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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out.

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round.

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer.

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up.

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove.

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym.

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back.

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring.

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile.

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger.

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off.

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days.

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused.

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?”

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained.

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…”

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne.

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him.

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to.

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry.

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly.

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added.

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought.

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down.

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start.

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed.

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked.

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities.

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added.

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing.

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work.

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.”

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down.

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding.

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could.

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it.

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head.

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least.

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him.

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening.

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette.

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone.

“Hello?” Harry answered.

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit.

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up.

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face.

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him.

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest.

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off.

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing.

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness.

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good.

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys.

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him.

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.”

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by.

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out.

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter.

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner.

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed.

“Sure you guys are ready for that?”

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words.

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts.

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing.

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you.

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head.

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked.

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members.

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake.

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting.

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill.

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?”

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to.

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy.

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to.

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before.

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym.

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings.

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched.

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off.

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape.

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers.

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier.

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter.

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone.

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing.

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough.

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden.

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him.

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly.

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words.

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class.

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working.

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad.

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable.

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through.

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked.

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on.

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands.

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal.

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head.

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym.

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle.

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding.

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout.

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion.

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered.

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence.

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him.

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is.

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested.

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no.

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room.

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you.

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch.

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.”

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned.

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions.

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead.

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts.

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand.

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing.

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well.

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring.

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym.

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile.

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked.

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour.

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you.

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever.

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out.

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked.

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer.

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore.

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer.

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last.

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again.

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout.

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you.

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left.

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant.

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts.

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color.

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel.

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out.

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked.

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there.

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.”

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?”

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked.

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month.

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly.

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily.

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward.

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant.

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved.

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better.

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did.

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory.

“How long have you been boxing?”

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled.

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions.

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out.

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for.

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words.

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears.

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream.

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday.

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well.

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile.

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better.

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.”

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities.

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his.

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain.

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb.

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him.

“Really?”

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding.

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him.

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship.

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything.

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to.

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you.

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you.

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight.

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students.

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you.

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…”

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.”

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked.

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago.

“Is this about his mom?”

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.”

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted.

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed.

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out.

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied.

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him.

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?”

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added.

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all.

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.”

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner.

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout.

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked.

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing.

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face.

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry.

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door.

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side.

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay.

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you.

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.”

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous.

“Thank you, shall we?”

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly.

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking.

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs.

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift.

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.”

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that.

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you.

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you.

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive.

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you.

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours.

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts.

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested.

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you.

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened.

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him.

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say.

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile.

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily.

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it.

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever.

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day.

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you.

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside.

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…”

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-”

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside.

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.”

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you.

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you.

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you.

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break.

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky.

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car.

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before.

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags.

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there.

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands.

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in.

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears.

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy.

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you.

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder.

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck.

“Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him.

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.”

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible.

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on.

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter.

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut.

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears.

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer, Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened.

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled.

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly.

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added.

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment.

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.”

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him.

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections.

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.”

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over.

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of.

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone.

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer.

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days.

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you.

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows.

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top.

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry.

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before.

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted.

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground.

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you.

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle.

“Too busy for me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself.

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted.

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night?

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them.

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold.

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.”

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?”

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness.

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.”

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with.

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared.

Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you.

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you

intimidating whatsoever.

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one.

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong.

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?”

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted.

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry.

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion.

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both.

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him.

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for.

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good.

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him.

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch.

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them.

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…”

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration.

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.”

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met.

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…”

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees.

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar.

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground.

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him.

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.”

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new.

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late.

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around.

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream.

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt.

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up.

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well.

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face.

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?”

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better.

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak.

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you.

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears.

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again.

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips.

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you.

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you.

You giggled. “I love you, baby-”

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly.

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands.

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach.

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax.

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more.

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms.

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better.

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled.

“Want you,” you simply stated.

“You have me, angel.”

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins.

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you.

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it.

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you.

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands.

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple.

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.”

“Harry…” you blushed.

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs.

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.”

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle.

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?”

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him.

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan.

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently.

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body.

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them.

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see.

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed.

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.”

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence.

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.”

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again.

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster.

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact.

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body.

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter.

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure.

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed.

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it.

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch.

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.”

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs.

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back.

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now.

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go.

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive.

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor.

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off.

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum.

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more.

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing.

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard.

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness.

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan.

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy.

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out.

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job.

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin.

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…”

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you.

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high.

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm.

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago.

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again.

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest.

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look.

“And I love you too.”

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him.

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior.

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager.

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out.

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him.

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle.

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate.

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym.

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen.

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about.

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable.

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?”

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked.

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.”

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

#timetravelathon #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #boyfriend!harry #boxer!harry #harry styles solo #harry #harry styles #harry styles story

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fandomlit · 4 years ago

Text

secretive (shane madej x reader)

requested by anon “Could you do a Shane Madej x reader where he thinks the reader is cheating on him with Ryan. Like they whisper things to eachother and stop when Shane enters the room, they text all the time and hang out without Shane a lot. He ends up snapping at the reader about it but it turns out they were actually planning a suprise for him.”

summary shane madej has never been an insecure guy. but when it comes to you, that side can come out to play.

gif cred belongs to @ryanbergara

shane was rarely insecure. he had learned to become proud of who he is, lanky limbs and all. but of course, there was the occasional slip up--especially when it came to you.

when shane first met you, he was smitten. your dorky personality, stunning beauty, and unrelenting kindness drew him into you instantly, and he chased that feeling to the ends of the earth. and now, almost a year and a half into your relationship, he could honestly say that he has never been happier.

but of course, those pesky insecurities come out to play sometimes.

shane had volunteered to do coffee run that morning before filming unsolved. when he came back to the office where he had left you both, he saw you two sitting unbearably close at the desk, talking and smiling and ignoring everyone else in the room setting up for the shoot.

trying his best to brush it off, he entered the office and gave you both a smile. “caffeine time?”

you leaned away from ryan, clapping excitedly. “caffeine time!”

he gave a wide grin at your cheeriness and grabby hands, handing you the order he had memorized on your first date.

you stood up from the desk and giggled, “you can have your seat back. i gotta get back to work.”

“alright, have fun,” shane smiled. you gave him a quick kiss before skipping off to your workplace. after shane settled in his seat with his coffee, he said to ryan as casually as he could, “what were the whispers about?”

ryan gave him an entirely unconvincing confused look. “what whispers?”

“between you and y/n,” shane explained, motioning to the door you had just exited through.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ryan said, shaking his head at shane. before shane could press any further, you came back into the office.

“sorry,” you giggled. “forgot my phone.” you snatched off of the small table and then pointed to ryan with a serious expression. “text me, bergara.” and then you left, just as quickly as you had come.

ryan looked up from his prepared manila folder to the camera crew, not daring to glance at the unintentionally glaring shane, and spoke, “are we ready to roll?”

“who are you texting?” shane teased when he entered the living room to see you curled up, smiling at your phone.

“just ryan,” you shrugged. that didn’t sit right with shane.

“you two seem awfully close lately,” shane tried to comment nonchalantly. but if he implicated that anything was wrong in his tone, you didn’t notice. you just giggled as your phone buzzed with another text. shane took a sip of his tea with a frown.

after a while of smiling at your phone, you moved over to cuddle with shane as he watched a show on netflix.

you placed a kiss on his cheek as you draped yourself over him. “i love you.”

that did lighten his heart a bit. “i love you, too.”

ryan and shane got lunch together many days of the week. then he would come back to the office, pay you a visit in yours, and get back to work. but today, ryan had a different idea in mind.

“why don’t we eat with y/n today?” the shorter man proposed. that unsettled shane a bit. supernatural beings were nothing to him, but a guy taking invested interest in his girl friend as of late? that rattled him.

shane excused, “she’s usually busy during our lunch.. but we can check.” he shrugged. “no harm in that.” and though his thoughts betrayed his words, he led the way to your office.

you were on the phone when shane peeked in. you waved him in as you spoke, “it’s alright, lea.” you tapped your pencil against your desk as the boys filtered in. “yeah, just send it and we can edit and complete. it’s no problem. just relax and enjoy a day off, girl. of course. see you.” you hung up and gave the boys a smile.

“what was that about?” shane asked, coming closer to your desk to give you a quick kiss.

“was that the girl who hasn’t shown up for the past few days?” ryan asked, taking the seat across from your desk.

“yes,” you groaned. “im trying to be patient with her, she’s using some sick days so i can’t really get on her, but did she have to take off in the middle of this project?” you let out a huff.

shane was slightly bothered that ryan knew more about this than he did. but instead, he asked, “would it comfort you at all if we had lunch with you today? or is this girl taking up your schedule?”

you grasped his hand in yours. “please have lunch with me.” you reached out your hand to ryan, who laughed as he took it. you squeezed both of their hands, though shane’s lips were now tightly pursed. “this morning has been insane.”

“we got you,” ryan nodded with a grin that you returned sweetly. when you looked up at shane, he quickly changed his expression into a grin. he felt his jealousy rising second by second during the entire lunch.

shane had just walked into the breakroom to see you and ryan laughing as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “that’s actually not a bad idea, bergara. where’d you come up with that one?”

“i’ve got so much in this noggin, you don’t even know, l/n,” ryan responded easily, making you laugh again. shane still hadn’t been noticed, but he felt as if his heart was beating so loud that he surely would be.

“but yeah, shane stays late every thursday,” you continued, “so if you came over right after work, we should be able to get it all done and shane wouldn’t even know!”

“im a genius,” ryan praised.

“that you are,” you agreed, holding your cup out. he clinked his water bottle against it and you both turned to the door. shane was long gone.

you had stayed a little bit late that day, and so shane was stuck pacing your shared apartment as he awaited your arrival home, thinking of what to say.

his blood boiled as he thought of the implications of the past couple of weeks. you and ryan were definitely planning something. and with how close you two were lately, it was probably something that shane, your boyfriend, would not care for at all. and if his thoughts were right, then had this happened before? is he only noticing this now? he couldn’t even begin with what he needed to say to you.

you were the most important thing to him. from the moment he met you, he knew he had to be with you. and now that you could be cheating on him with his best friend? his heart was pumping and aching in his chest, and he didn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

when you opened the door, his head immediately shot up. “hey,” you smiled. after you closed the door behind you and took in his frantic state, you asked, “something wrong?”

“we gotta talk,” was all he could manage as he shook his head.

you furrowed your brow as you slipped off your jacket and dropped your bag. “okay..?” you stepped toward him. “what about?”

but your innocence just seemed to frustrate him. “i know about you and ryan.” you stopped in your tracks, but he didn’t dare glance at your reaction to his words. he was worried about what he’d find there. “i heard you guys talking in the breakroom earlier about meeting up when im not home, and how you two always text lately, and you’re always.. touching and..” he took a breath. “i know, y/n.” he finally looked up at you to see your face frozen in what seemed to be shock and concern. you stepped closer to him.

“shane, what?” he stood his ground, arms crossed as you moved in front of him. “shane, no.. no, i love you so much, i would never cheat on you.” you placed your hands on his arms and looked him dead in his eyes. but his expression remained stone.

“why should i believe that?” he spoke lowly.

he wished he hadn’t seen your heart break in your eyes. “shane, ryan and i are your best friends, we wouldn’t dare do that to you. we..” you let out a sigh through your nose and removed your hands from his arms to fish your phone out of your pocket. you unlocked it and handed it to him, revealing the texts between you and ryan.

scrolling up, he found:

boogara, 12:38pm okay, this might be a stupid question..

y/n, 12:42pm i love it already, do tell

boogara, 12:44pm alright do you think it would be at all possible to get balloons custom made as characters from the hotdaga?

y/n, 12:45pm OHMYGOD I LOVE IT WE ABSOLUTELY CAN IM LOOKING INTO IT RN

boogara, 12:46pm shane better appreciate this idea as much as you do when his birthday comes around

y/n, 12:48pm ryan, that man will celebrate harder than he’s ever celebrated before

boogara, 12:49pm he better

shane didn’t know what to make of that as he handed his phone back to you.

“we were planning a surprise party for your birthday,” you sighed, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “that’s why we’re so.. secretive.” you twiddled with your hands nervously. “but i guess not anymore.” shane didn’t know what to say. you looked up to him sadly. “you thought i was cheating on you..?”

shane’s heart burned with guilt. softly, he spoke, “i did, yeah.” your frown deepened. “but not because i don’t trust you,” he explained, taking your hand in his. you looked to your hands instead of his desperate eyes for a moment. “but because i just..” you looked up at him, and the words spilled out, “i don’t know, im just always in awe that i get to be with you and... i guess i got scared that maybe you thought i wasn’t good enough for you, because god knows im not.”

“shane,” you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. “you’re perfect for me. ryan is definitely one of my best friends, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the love i have for you.” he offered you a short smile. “i only have eyes for you, dork.”

“im sorry,” he whispered. you pulled him in for a tight hug.

“i am, too,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. “will you still act surprised for your birthday..? ryan’s pretty proud of himself.”

“i’d do anything for that little guy,” he sighed, pulling away from you to gaze at your sweet smile. “let’s go watch drunk history.”

forever tags <3 @bombardia @simonsbluee @ari-shipping-stuff @cheshirecat107 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

#bfu x reader #buzzfeed unsolved x reader #bfu fanfic #buzzfeed unsolved fanfic #shane madej x reader #shane madej fanfic #youtubers x reader #youtuber fanfic

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soup-du-silence · 3 years ago

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yes hellööö - i see an ask game, i jUMP- 3 and 4, and aaany other you'd like, for God Only Knows perchaaance? 👀💛

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

oh oof. here's a bunch i guess.

Three days ago you would have bitten her fingers off if given the chance.

When your mind tries to pull up an image of his face, you end up with an amalgamation of your favorite things about him: big, luminous honey-amber eyes; a bashful smile full of razor sharp teeth; sun-reddened cheeks and freckles across the bridge of his nose; his soft, fluid frills and fins; that ridiculous way his hair forms a perfect sfogliatella curl in the middle of his forehead.

the whole "Three things happen in breakneck succession." section ooops lol

I want to kiss you like no one's ever done in a movie because the only movies they make about people like us are monster movies and monsters don't get kissed.

Hope is three hundred scratches in a crumbling lighthouse wall, and you don't have any left to spend on Luca.

If he tried to touch you right now you think it might feel like the serrated edge of a scaling knife, scraping layers of you away, but it would hurt in a way that would make you beg for more.

...he gestures vaguely around him; the moon, the stars, the galaxies; literature and poetry and history and mythology; photosynthesis and metamorphosis and cumulonimbus clouds and somma-stratovolcanoes. Things he tells you about but you don't retain very well, but you listen anyway because you're in love with the way he says them to you.

His eyes rattle in his head as you shake his skinny, fragile, breakable body, and you have a dawning realization that if anything ever happens to him you will go fully, irredeemably, violently insane, but until then you will be an embarrassing and unapologetic worrier, and maybe you and Daniela have more in common than you thought.

A skinny girl standing there with her tits out is not even in the same league as the wet edge of a beautiful boy's tongue flicking a green grape back into his mouth, his pink lips closing softly around your fingertips, his eyes pinning you in place, exposed and tissue-paper fragile like a butterfly behind glass.

damn this thing really peaked in chapter 2, huh?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

another bunch

"Where did these muscles come from? You were made of twigs last time I saw you. Arms like grissini. Now look at you." (alberto arms appreciation squad)

all the stuff from the horny monster fucker. he's awful but i thought his dialogue was good. "What does the sea monster have in his pants, I wonder? Are you built like a human boy, or is it something else? Let's find out, hm?" hahah fuck off, creep.

"You are my son...It's never difficult to love you."

All of Alberto and Kjell's inside jokes. They're small but they're important.

"Oh, he is a little angel. Look at him! His hair just does that?" Kjell's a good boy. All his dialogue was super easy to write even if Im still not sure he had an interesting personality

"The thing is, I can read a book anywhere. I can talk to people and ask questions without sitting in a hard chair in socks and shoes for six hours a day, while humans teach me all the awful ways they treat each other and call it history. I can go outside and look at things myself, or I can trav-" He stops himself. "I want it to stay fun. I don't want to be told I'm stupid because I had a late start or their rules weren't made to accommodate me. That's not fair." I think i might be one of only a handful who thinks school isn't going to pan out for Luca, and its not because he's not smart or unwilling to work hard, but because the system is rigged. Maybe that's just cus Im an American though. Our school system would chew him up and spit him out in no time.

"I think where I screwed up is...I think you'd be happiest if we didn't know each other at all anymore."

and for both questions: maybe the whole last section of ch4 that wasn't letters, because even though i don't think it compares to what other people are writing, I really enjoyed making Luca the obviously horny one. this is a truth you'll never take from me.

#sorry im not good at spicy stuff lol i tried

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morizoras-cave · 5 years ago

Text

The Story Of Many (Request)

Chris Evans x younger sister!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Request Description: reader is Chris Evans younger sister/co-star and she is staring in a role that is very emotionally draining (like Tom Holland in Cherry or Zendaya in Euphoria) and the role gets to much for her mental health and Chris comforts/reassures her

Warnings: child abuse (in reader’s role), depression, anxiety, pills

(A/N): some of you guys started sending requests and im super duper excited!! hahaha,, i just realized that some of your actually read my shitty authors notes oh shit

It was rare that you and your family could all be there for dinner, and it was always rather enjoyable. Your sisters of course had their own lives, and things to take care of. Chris and Scott, your older brothers, always had busy schedules, requiring them to be far from home. Now you had joined that circus, as you had also turned to acting.

Naturally, being the youngest in the Evans family, you’d gotten a lot of attention. Although, you felt like you had gained popularity on your own, and you were proud of your accomplishments.

Lately, you’d been filming a movie surrounding the topic of child abuse. You played one of the teens that were being abused, and there were some pretty heavy scenes in it. It was meant to showcase the toll it takes on a kid. And it had certainly taken a toll on you.

Being a very method actor, it was hard for you sometimes to get out of that headspace. The mind of a tortured child, someone who no one loved, and someone who lashed out at others because they had nothing else.

You’d secretly started taking some antidepressants, just for the time being. You just couldn’t bear going home from set and crying yourself to sleep, or numbly watching television until 3 AM. But you didn’t want to let your family worry. It would all stop when you were done with the move anyway.

“Y/n?” Chris’ voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you with those protecting blue eyes, worried as always. Your other siblings and parents were still talking, completely unaware of the bubble of seriousness that had entrapped you and Chris. “You okay?”

You nodded simply, picking up your fork to grab some of your untouched food. Chris didn’t seem convinced.

“You’re just not very talkative lately..” he mumbled, piercing his own food. “How’s the role? What are you working on?”

“Uh, it’s a movie about child abuse. To shed more light on it. I play one of the kids,” you saw flatly. You avoided diving into the more sensitive parts of your role, afraid that you might shatter in front of your brother. For once, you didn’t want to be the younger sister, you just wanted to be Y/n Evans.

When you told him what it was about, something seemed to click with Chris. He had certainly experienced something along the same lines as you, and said with a small smile of understanding: “I get it. Those roles can really mess with your mood. Don’t let it affect you too much though.”

That was all you and Chris said on the matter the rest of the dinner. You tried to enjoy it as much as you could. Everything just seemed so dull and gray. When dinner was over, you scurried to the bathroom. Soon everyone would leave and go to their respective homes.

You looked in the mirror and something, the part of you that could’ve enjoyed dinner, just withered away. So many kids couldn’t enjoy a dinner with their families. So many kids had terrible parents, parents who despised them. Parents who did horrible things to them. You closed your eyes, leaning over the sink. As tears dribbled down the drain, you felt like nothing but an unloved child, broken and with a head in a storm.

Shaking, you reached out your hand to grab your pills. They rattled in their plastic bottles.

“Y/n?” it was his voice again. Chris. Panicking, you sniffled trying to compose yourself. You sniffled, knowing he could hear it from the other side of the door, let go of the pill bottle and wiped your tears. Looking in the mirror, you knew it was still painfully obvious, and the thought only made you want to cry more.

“Y/n,” he repeated, “Open the door.”

He had that voice, that serious one that he only used when those boys pranked you in fourth grade, or when you fell from a tree and hurt yourself in kindergarten. He wanted to protect you.

Ashamed, you opened the door to the bathroom, and Chris wasted no time striding in.

“Y/n..” he mumbled, embracing you in a hug and pressing your head into his chest. You gasped and cried again, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered.

There was nothing better than being hugged by your brother. His arms just blocked you off from all the harm in the world, all the hurt children, and the evil parents, and the pills. Your breathing calmed slowly.

You stood like that, so peacefully, until you felt him move his arms from you. You flinched at the sound of rattling pills. You pulled away, taking a step back.

Chris looked hurt. Betrayed. He clenched the pill bottle in his hand, shaking his head, utterly speechless.

“Y/n, you can’t not tell us about this. You- You.. Does mom and dad know?” He was outraged, eyes glistening. You shook your head in shame. His hand clenched the plastic container harder, knuckles whitening, before he threw it angrily.

The container hit the wall with a rattle, and then bounced back onto the floor, lying there alone on the reflective tiles.

“It’s just this role. God, it’s been.. It’s been so tough on me. And this is the story of one family! But at the same time it’s the story of so many families. I just go there and act these things, and I feel like I’m rotting away, Chris. I don’t know what to do!” You yelled, lip quivering. Your knees buckled and you feel down on the tiles. Chris jumped to help you, but you scooted away, hugging your knees and hiding your head. You felt pathetic.

You heard shuffling and then felt a hand on your knee. His thumb brushed over it gently and calmingly.

“Look.. Roles can do that to you. I’ve never experienced it like this, but.. It just means that you’re a phenomenal actor, trust me. What’s not so phenomenal, is that you’re bringing these feelings with you home,” it was only in moments like these, where you could really appreciate Chris’ voice. He had a way of always sounding so calm, like he knew precisely that everything was how it was supposed to be.

“Chris, I can’t.. I don’t know how to keep them away,” instinctively, at the sound of your vulnerable voice, Chris wrapped his arm around you again, pulling you into him. You sat on the bathroom floor together.

“I think the best thing you can do, is talk to a therapist. They’ll be able to teach you how to put those things away better than anyone else. I promise you it’ll be worth it, N/n.”

You nodded, agreeing with him. It was so crazy, you thought, how your problems seemed to melt away, when Chris got his hands on them. He rocked you back and forth, and for once, you were so content being his little sister, just because he would help you like this, just because he could.

“Should I set that up for you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, and I don’t want to hear no nonsense about any pills anymore, alright?”

“Alright.”

Once that was declared, you just sat there, you just stayed, peacefully, and you knew for the first time in a long time, that everything would be all right. With Chris by your side, everything would be okay.

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #avengers #avengers cast x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #captain america x teen!reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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mightbewriting · 4 years ago

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So I came to W&H and B&E in an odd way. I'm a long time Dramione fic reader who like many of us doubled down on in 2020 to find comfort in a bananas year. I kept seeing W&H on everyone's rec list, but for whatever reason kept putting it off. Then I heard about the prequel and decided to wait for that to be finished, read it, then do W&H. But once it was finished, I saw you recommended W&H first so I was like okay I'll do that. I struggle with impulse control but am trying to do better so when I saw the audiobook for W&H I was like perfect, I'll listen rather than read that way I won't gobble it up in a day. Ha well that did not work, I listened to the first 3 chapters (at that time those were the only chapters they had recorded) then instantly ran not walked to A03, reread said chapters, then continued on. At Chapter 4 of W&H, I thought hmm maybe I'll read them simultaneously. I continued that way maybe through Chapter 13 of B&E and Chapter 7ish then fully committed to W&H first. I cannot imagine reading these fics in real time because reading them in full, back to back was the most intense glutenous binge and it's taken over my life in the best way. I have been living in your fictional universe for the past two weeks. I started a list of all the parallels and callbacks and eventually had to call it because they are innumerable. I'm awed. In literal awe. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Your writing - the individual words of your vast vocabulary, the way you string said words together into hilarious, heart breaking, heart stopping, beautiful, and visceral feelings is astounding. It's hard to explain but even good writers (and/or an intriguing plot) sometimes do not create an overall immersive feeling. But the feelings your words evoke are all encompassing and truly universe building. Like it's not just the wording or the plot or the charters but all of it together come to make something even greater than the sum of their parts. Your writing, your universe of W&H, S&S, and B&E live in my mind and heart and in an embarrassing amount of screenshots of passages on my phone and in voice memos to myself as I don't have anyone irl to fan girl with. When I think of your words and the world you built, I'm reminded of a Taylor Swift lyric: "it cut deep to know you, right to the bone". That is how I'd describe your writing's effect on me, but in the best way.

Your brain's capacity to plot, plan, and flawlessly deliver W&H THEN B&E? Idk how you kept all the threads and plot points and moments and timelines in check. My head aches just thinking about how you wrote these stand-alone but also inextricable works of art. Like how does one's brain function in such a level? And it's especially telling in B&E because we knew where we were going but I still gasped, screamed, squealed, giggled, had to put my phone down, clutched it to my heart, fist pumped, stopped half way through just for a minute to breath and take it all in, and overall looked and acted as an utter idiot during each and every chapter because while I knew where we were going I also had no idea! I'm just floored you managed to keep us at the edge of our seats with a prequel? Who does that? You do!

The texts in the final chapter of W&H devastated me, literal chills. I think about that daily. It's exactly what H and we needed. Just like a reminder of what they went through. It reminded me of Chapter 41 of B&E. Like a summary of where they had been and where they are now.

The other thing that rattled in my brain is the motifs of choice and time, life kind of boils down to those two things huh? But choice especially. It's funny because choice is so prominent but at the same time how W&H and B&E give off soulmate vibes even though this is not a soulmate fic (also are the rumors true...?!) because despite time turners, breakups, and lost memories, they always come back together. But more on choice: it's just as Draco says - in a million scenarios he'll always choose her and he feels lucky she chose him just once. But of course with W&H, she does it twice. And she does it in both timelines of B&E, and of course that's the problem when Draco realizes he has not done the same hence heartbreak 1.0. And just god - he wants her to have a choice with the potion, a choice with her memories, and stops the timey wimey madness by realizing he's taking her choice (and in a way H started it by taking away his choice and leaving the first time). And then those parts about how he chose her, she chose him, but they could not chose each other. This motif, these callbacks. I'm flabbergasted. It's just hitting me now that you extend the choice to us as readers - we get to choose whether H get her memories back or not.

Theo in all your Wait and Hope universe, but especially S&S broke me. Blaise asking who is taking care of Theo when he's taking care of everyone else? Theo's literal and figurative demons? Yikes. Those were unpleasant looks in the mirror for me. I'm glad Theo has his Blaise. Where's mine haha? Also just shout to your underrated Blaise. The fact that he might be my favorite of the Slytherians in your stories says a lot since he doesn't say a lot haha. But he packs such a punch in all your works.

Okay, after singing your well deserved praises and fan girling and marveling at your works (god this is so long, I'm so sorry!), at long last my ask. I still cannot get this out of my head: what did Theo mean in Chapter 1 of B&E when he suggests to Draco “I know that. Maybe you could—tell her some of—” some of what? I zeroed in on this as soon as I read it and it's been rattling in my brain ever since.

um. hi? holy shit. i dont know how to process this. i am resisting the impulse to cringe away from the level of praise happening here because i really need to learn how to take a compliment but oh my god? i am not...this is just...wowzers. you are very literally too kind to me. i have melted into a puddle of feelings in my reading chair here.

so, first things first: thank you. these are some of the nicest things i’ve ever heard about my writing and i can guarantee i will come back to this ask when I'm feeling like i suck and need a motivation boost. i can’t deny...it feels really nice to know that at least one person out there caught and appreciated some of the insane attention to detail i forced upon myself lol. so thank you. truly, thank you so much for saying such amazingly kind things that have short circuited my brain!

and im sure my friends at @etl-echo-audiobooks will be over the moon to know that their recording work was such a hit! your trajectory reading these stories is so fun and hilarious and probably the most unique reading experience i’ve heard so far xD

also, please be advised that your analysis on choice in these stories is probably going to live in my head rent free for the rest of my life. i feel seen, you know? you just...picked up what i was putting down and it feels really nice to know that it worked for you!

and ok. your question. that little dash of ambiguity i was planning on leaving open ended. but let it be known i can be plied with compliments. i can’t just *not* give you something in return for such a lovely and kind and thoughtful dose of joy you had absolutely no obligation to give me today.

so, in my mind, after draco’s house arrest ended and before he went abroad for his mastery, he and theo had an extensive (most likely drunken. also blaise was probably there too) night of reflection where they kind of just looked back at their childhoods and the war and the history of blood purity and just sort of went: “what the fuck?” i imagine draco probably confided in theo that when he went abroad, he planned to just try and pretend like none of it mattered, to see if that was really true. and draco probably kept him updated via owl (even though draco did not write enough and theo had feelings about that) so that by the time draco returned and we have theo asking that sort of trailing question, the implication at the end is “what if you told granger some of your realizations about it all?” so...not all that exciting? but there you have it!

in conclusion: thank you! you are too kind! i appreciate your thoughtful commentary SO much! i’m so happy you enjoyed these stories. and i hope the explanation of what theo was going to say wasn’t too underwhelming.

#thegirlwhowatchedeverything #asks #death by kindness #my death #i am dead #oh also yes #they rumors are true #im writing a soulmate story next #i intend to hurt you #you being ALL of you #*evil laughter*

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vampcubus · 5 years ago

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just because im obsessed with izuku's thighs,,, imagine just.... teasing him in public with your hand on his thigh, or sucking his dick and palming his ass. i just- thAT MAN GOT C A K E

A/N: Ay, you get me on a spiritual level 😍💦

Warnings: nsfw!!, thigh-lovin’/appreciation, public spicyness.

Words: 1000+ (can u tell how passionate i am about his thighs??)

. . .

Teasing + Izuku’s Thighs Appreciation™ | Scenario

Teasing Izuku was always fun.

He would startle, he would gasp and stutter, blush so dark you feared he’d turn purple. But the best part was the whine that would escape his lips whenever you moved out of reach, apologized like it had been an accident despite you both knowing that was far from the truth, or pretended to be oblivious.

Before Izuku became intimate with you, he had been very insecure about his body. Shocking I know, he’s sculpted like a god with the most adorable freckles cheeks and forest green eyes. But the way you worshipped him made him choke on his insecurities, forget them in the moment your lips would touch his body, finger dancing over every raised scar. You were very much a giving lover and he wondered every day what he did to deserve you. You spoiled him with compliments when he couldn’t meet your eyes. You showered him in kisses and reassurance with every passing day, even when he himself didn’t even realize how anxious he was really feeling.

But you were such a damn tease!

Izuku shivered and cut himself off with a shuddering gasp mid-sentence when he felt your fingers touch his thigh under the table at a cafe you always went to with the rest of your friends. He looked to the side to meet your eyes, which are trained on Ochako as you continue your pleasant conversation like nothing had happened.

“Is something wrong, Midoriya?” Todoroki’s cool-toned voice inquired, and the green-haired hero snapped his attention back to him.

“Oh n-no, I’m fine, just a… I just spaced out for a moment there.” Midoriya laughed sheepishly, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Please, continue.”

For a while your hand remained still and tame, only resting on his mid-thigh. He almost forgot that it was there. That is until you started to slide your palm across his thigh, caressing the plushy muscle beneath your fingers as a shudder rattled his bones under your touch. What were you doing?

Izuku gulped down his suspicion, attempting to maintain conversation with his two-toned friend. Although he was only half-listening, his body hyper-aware of your teasing fingers drifting up and down his thigh. He swore that each time you rubbed back up, you moved a bit higher up. As your fingers inched ever closer to the space between his amazing thighs, he felt himself twitching to life. He couldn’t be getting hard with all these people watching! Still, he felt himself swell and grow within the confines of his now tight pants. But, just as your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the zipper, your hand drifted back to his knee, rubbing soothing circles around it.

He felt a pang of both disappointment and irritation spark within his chest as you only continued to tease. Shifting his eyes to the right, he met your own glinting with mischief as you gazed at him in your peripherals. There was a dull flame ignited behind your eyes, pupils blown larger than before as you watched him fidget.

Your hand slid back up his thigh, this time not hesitating to press down on his half-hard cock through his pants, drawing a harsh intake of breath from your boyfriend as he bit down on his lip to discourage any more noise from escaping. Your fingers kneaded the spot, index finger and thumb stroking the shape of his length through his pants until his hips started to twitch up into your hand. The moment his hips bucked your hand left. He barely held in a whine, thighs shaking as he stubbornly tore his gaze from you and back to Todoroki to continue speaking with him. He stumbled over his words a great deal more but otherwise put up a decent fight. Meaning you would have to step up your game.

Izuku’s lips parted and his face exploded with color as your hand groped at his erection more directly, eyes foggy and unfocused. And that’s how you left him for the rest of the time you spent at the cafe, your hand absent from his needy body as you innocently smiled and talked with your friends. Not fair. Not fair at all.

. . .

Another time you had him pressed against the cold lockers of a dim hallway, lips skittering across his freckled cheeks and jaw. You had a knee pressed between his twitching thighs, grinding against his crotch as your hand squeezed a handful of his ass. His breathing was labored and erratic, hands grabbing at any inch of you he could reach, starved for something. He didn’t know what exactly he was begging for, but you seemed to be intent on keeping it out of reach as you chuckled and teased him with your honey-sweet praises and inquiries of what he wanted. Every time you would ask he would blush and turn his head away stubbornly, lips sealed as his embarrassment kept him from giving you the pleasure of his response.

With your tongue dragging up the shell of his ear, your hands palming his ass and your hips rocking against his, thigh grinding against his cock, he felt his breath quicken. His resolve began to crumble as his hips began to rut against your thigh.

“Still not talking huh, Izzy? Fine then, I guess I’ll let you go back to class then.” And with that you pulled away, taking the friction and warmth with you as you untangled yourself from him.

Even you were surprised when he practically threw himself at you, pawing and tugging at you, desperate pleadings for you to stay tumbling from his lips as the tears finally started rolling down his cheeks. You smiled and his begging silenced by your lips pressing against his. But you weren’t going to indulge him until you heard him say what you wanted. He knew the rules.

“I’ll ask you again, Izuku. What do you want?” You asked, eyes burning into his own as your lips brushed against the bruise on his jaw.

You’d never heard him beg like he did in that moment, so shameless and honest it even made you blush.

#ashi rambles #thirsty thursday #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #n/sfw #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #deku #bnha #mha #sinnamon roll izuku #baby got back #izuku x reader #bnha scenario #thighs #i bet you he has freckled on his thighs #fight me

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gigis-ff-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Hey might as well.

A Little Slice Dreams: The Meta Knights Play a Fun Game of Uno

What could go wrong? Those poor knights asked themselves this question as if nothing could.

But Everything. Everything could, will, would, and did absoluteley go wrong.

They sat around a giant round table in the lounge of the Halberd, soaring at least 200 feet above sea level. The night was cold, crisp, and dark. Sword, Blade, Captain Vul, and Sailor Dee sat on one end of the table. Across from them were the four main Meta knights: Axe, Javelin, Mace, and Trident.

Sailor and Mace were determined in their craft. It was down to one of them in their anxious, sweat driving game. The winner would receive a delectable frozen trophy. The looser would have to watch in tears as the winner took the glory.

It was down to two cards for each player. But it was Sailor's turn. The fee slammed down a turn skip card And gave a sickening grin at Javelin.

"No...NO!" Mace shivered in his seat.

Sailor started cackling as they held up their last remaining card.

"I hope you have good cards looser!" Shouted Sword, while Blade babbled in an incomprehensible accent, basicly stating the same thing.

"This is too much! I think im gonna drop dead!" Axe flailed around the table.

"I think you and Mace gonna have simultaneous strokes after this." Javelin said in their robotic tone.

Yeah your screwed, signed Trident.

"I'll be right back I'm gonna go get the reward for Sailor." Vul stated in an almost certain tone.

Sailor ceased their cackling and drew a deadly glare at Mace. As if their eyes shot daggers through Mace's soul.

"Uno..."

Sailor slammed a draw four on the table, prompting Mace to dramaticly scream "no" and cry, slamming his fists on the table.

"I-I was so c-c-close...WAAHHHH!"

"You challenged Sailor in uno. You knew what grave you were digging yourself into," Axe said, "and speaking of digging into things!"

Vul brought out Sailor's reward. An ice cream parfait stacked a mile high, dripping with fudge and marshmallow coating. The frozen Vanilla custard sat delicately above the hot brownies under it, and under that, the crunchy crumbs of canoli crust. Chocolate decoration perched itself on top of the display like a fine peice of jewelry. The reward was perfect in every way. Fitting for a satisfyingly sweet victory in an uno game.

Mace continued to cry as Vul handed Sailor the ice cream. As the glass was handed to them, Sailor's eyes lit up.

"Thank ye Captain!" They elongated every vowel in appreciation for their edible trophy.

"I'd say you earned it, 'Sir Uno champion Sailor Waddle Dee.'" Vul spoke to Sailor but looked at Mace as he continued to weap at his loss.

Blade and Sword cheared on Sailor as they scarfed down the whole desert like Kirby inhales a whole feast, while Tident, and Axe sighed in second hand defeat and consulted Mace as he sobbed. Javelin cheared on Sailor as well.

"WOOO! GO SAILOR!"

"H-H-Hey! Y-Your supposed to be rooting for m-m-me. Sniff."

"You didn't win."

As Sailor finished the dish. They realized they left the chocolate decorations for last. They thought that this would be such a great time to rub it in Mace's face that he lost with the chocolate.

"Hey Mace."

"H-huh?"

"Look."

Mace thought he knew what was going on. "YOU WERE THE NICE ONE DON'T TOURTURE ME LIKE THIS!"

"Here." Sailor gave the knight a chocolate decoration. "For you, because ye played good."

Mace's eyes lit up. "R-really?" He stifled a sniff. "For me?"

"Yeah. For you."

"Oh your too kind. I..."

As Mace took the chocolate, a hint of fear went into his eyes. The symbol on it sent a chill down his spine.

"Vul..."

"Yes Mace?"

"Which freezer did you get this ice cream out of."

"Why the one in the lounge of course"

"The mini blue freezer or the big silver freezer?"

"The mini blue one with all of bosses ice creEAAM OH SWEET NECRODEUS WHAT HAVE I DONE?"

Blade turned sharp to Vul and panicked, falling backwards into an incomprehensible blabber.

Sword shook. "THATS BOSS'S ICE CREAM FRIDGE!"

"You stole Meta Knight's ice cream?" Cried Javelin.

Trident signed an oh no in shaking paws.

"We're all gonna be dead by dawn in our stone graves! And the writings gonna say we died cold and chocolatey!" Axe shouted.

"He's gonna kill me the most I ate the damn thing!" Sailor squealed and almost started to cry. They sweated up a storm in their anxiety.

Vul attempted to be reassuring. "He will not kill us for one mess up." The captain wasn't to sure of this. "I'm sure everything is going to be-"

A door slammed open to reveal an enraged pair of golden-red eyes and a maskless, meta knight wearing them, and pink bunny slippers and a fluffy robe.

"Who..."

"Oh no."

"WHO!"

The shout sent echoes through the room. Cracks formed on the floors, walls and cealing. Some of them went tumbling into the hallway, others flew out of their seats. The glass that contained the ice cream hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces like a golden glass mirror.

Sword, like everyone else, was horrified of consequence. He jumped up on the table, cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled "SCATTER!" As though it were some kind of party with alcohol and the police just got there.

Everyone ran in different directions. Sword and Blade searched for hiding places, Mace and Javelin jumped to the ceiling. Trident and Axe tried to break a window so that they could fall into the orange watters below. Vul and Sailor darted into the hallways, not looking back to the flapping sounds that echoed through the battleship.

Sailor took a sharp left and shakingly pulled out a phone from their hat. They searched through their contacts to find people that could save them from whatever punishment they would face.

Kirby was unavailable, probably sleeping. Bandee was also probably sleeping. Or training at three am like an insane person for that smash bros invitation. Dedede was the only person that picked up. In the background you could hear some trash comedy in the most of a clear crunching of popcorn.

"Yo."

Sailor spoke in a hushed yet anxious tone. "Sir, ye gotta get over here and help I think we're gonna die!"

"Did you steal his ice cream?" A crunch was heard clearly.

"It was an accident we were just-"

Vul's scream came blasting through the halls.

Sailor had a mild panic attack. "OH SHIT! CAPTAIN!"

The phone dropped to the floor and rattled. Dedede, on his end, looked at the phone with utter confusion and hung up.

Vul was backed into a corner by the furious borb, spoon in one paw.

"Do you know how long it took me to make that? THREE DAYS!"

Vul took hold of a nearby pipe and found to it for dear life. Eyes wide fearing death.

"I was saving that for today specificly! I was going to watch Mama Mia!

"Oh God sir I'm sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't give me back my ice cream Vul!"

"WAIT!"

Sailor came running out of the halls and in front of Vul to protect him.

"It was an accident sir. We were just playin a game and he grabbed the wrong ice cream. Don't hurt em!"

"Why... would I hurt anyone...I'm just angry."

"You look like you're gonna f%#king kill someone!"

Vul stepped out of his "gripping onto the pole for dear life" position just to scold Sailor for swearing. "Hey! What did we talk about?"

"Oops. Sorry." They turned back to Meta Knight.

"I... apologise if I seem a little harsh. It's wrong to terrify someone in the middle of the night over something so minuscule." Meta knight held his paw out for Vul to shake."Is all forgiven?"

Vul was more than relieved. "Absoluteley sir!"

Meta knight looked at the bird andd produced a laugh, but in the middle of it they stated most seriously that "You owe me another bowl." This didn't ease the captain's fear.

"We still have the ice cream we didn't eat in oyur fridge," Sailor stated, "you can have that."

Meta Knight turned. "What flavor is it?"

"Vanilla with chocolate and marshmallow swirl."

"I'll take it...but..."

Sailor was confused. "But what?"

"Due to my outburst I would find it fair that I would have to earn the desert, rather than just taking it. Besides, I'm DVRing the movie so I can watch it later."

"Wait wait wait. Earn it how?" The captain let go of Meta's hand and looked down at the small, Kirby esque orb.

"I'm thinking...Uno?"

Sailor's eyes sparkled. "Now that's a chalanged! You're on!"

#kirby #waddle dee #Meta knight #the meta knights #king Dedede #let's see how this one goes #then I'll post the second chapter #please read and comment #feedback is always appreciated #hope yall like it #:)

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macbookpro-hard-drive · 5 years ago

Text

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.5

why is it almost 9 and im tired already smh

anyway, i almost titled this part 5 because i dont know what numbers are

update im a dumbass bc this was, indeed, part 5

warnings: uhhh sick moments. hospitals. guilt. squip aftermath. mentions of nightmares.

You woke up days later in the hospital.

The first thing that happened was a blur of motions: you trying to rip out your IV as you panicked, and a nurse who just opened the door grabbed you by the wrist to stop you before you did any true damage. Then came a thousand questions from a thousand people, all trying to pinpoint the when and why and how and what happened that you could barely remember at that moment. When your breathing picked up and panic set in, the room was cleared save for a single person taking vitals. When he left, you were alone. The room felt cold. The room was silent-

Wait.

The room was silent.

Oh, god, the room was silent.

It was gone. Your thoughts were your own again, yet it still felt as if a piece of you had been snapped off. Broken off. Crumbled away over time, yet - yet... how long had you been out? Hours? A day? You couldn’t completely recall. You remembered someone asking you the date, the time, the anything, but... it slipped your mind far too quickly as a thousand other questions followed suit. You squinted at the whiteboard on the wall across from you, stamped into the corner, and red dry-erase marker spelling out the date.

Barely two days. That was good. You were... you were fine. You were okay. This was okay. Two days was okay. Two days was much less than what Rich dealt with-

Oh. Fuck, Rich - had he woken up? He must still be in the hospital - was - were you in the same one? Fuck, you felt foggier than ever. Like the pieces wouldn’t connect, yet lined up perfectly. Every little bit of pressure merely popped the piece apart again, and it left nothing but frustration to fill the space between. You’d have to see him as soon as you could.

The first person who came to see you (not quite counting your parents) was Christine Canigula with a pretty bouquet of sunflowers in her arms. Her purse bounced against her hip with every step around the room (mainly due to her trying to find a nice place to set the flowers down), and she finally gently sat at the end of your bed and talked to you happily about everything that had gone on within the past few days. She opened her bag, fishing out a small little bag of assorted goodies that she placed in your hands.

“I thought you could use something nice,” she smiled, “I hope you get out of here soon.” When you couldn’t muster up anything past a weak smile, she continued, “Rich actually asked about you, when I saw him earlier.”

You looked up. “He did?” You asked, voice quiet and broken.

“Yeah!” She chirped, “he woke up the other day, actually,” she drummed her fingers against her leg, “

The second was Michael. Michael, who had a ball of emotions choking him as he searched for the right thing to say to you. Worried and angry and upset and... relieved. All of it evaporated as you told him everything. Every detail, every action explained - and he realized what lied beyond the glimpse you’d given him while you looked as if you were trying to escape his house. He sat on the edge of your bed in stunned silence, just staring at the floor as you felt guilt creep into your stomach.

“Michael?” You finally said, voice quiet. “I’m... I’m sorry.” You paused, “for everything. You - you don’t have to forgive me, but...”

“You used me.” He said. You could hear the underlying anger dripping from those three words alone.

“I know.” You swallowed your emotions. “I’m... I know it was awful and I should have fought more to not do that, but...”

He finally looked back at you. “So,uh... how much of that was real, then?”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to stop for a moment, looking away. “I... I don’t really know,” you said, voice cracking and giving you away entirely. “Shit.”

“I mean-” He said, “you were - it was weird, [y/n]. One minute you’d be one way, and then... you were, y’know, you. It was like things never changed.”

That hit you hard. “Michael?” You choked out his name, before continuing, “please don’t tell Jeremy.”

“What?” He stared at you, “[y/n], he deserves to know-”

“No! I mean - he does,” you clarified, “I just - I need to tell him this myself.”

He bit his tongue for a moment. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna have to tell him some things before he loses his shit, [y/n]. He was fuckin’ freaked when the ambulance drove off.”

After a moment of stunned quiet, you mustered up a quick nod. “Right. Just - don’t tell him everything, alright?”

The conversation had died there. After a few more minutes of silence, Michael stood and made his way to leave - rattling off the usual “get well soon” message that you expected.

“Michael?” You called out, and he stopped. “Thank you for coming to see me. I... I appreciate it.”

His smile had faded, and he nodded a little. “Yeah...” He looked back at you, and he looked so soft and genuine that time. “Later, [y/n].”

The next day, Jeremy was shoved into your room without much of a chance to gather his bearings. True to his word, Michael had explained a few things while leaving Jeremy pretty in the dark on what had happened. The hardest thing was looking at Jeremy and telling him the rest of your story. That you had wasted six hundred dollars on a stupid, shitty pill that you thought would help you. A pill that you thought would help you essentially get Jeremy to reciprocate the feelings that you bit back and hid underneath everything. You lied through your teeth that you had just wanted him and Michael back. You couldn’t just... admit that you had a crush on him, could you?

He reached out and laid a hand on your own. “Michael told me.”

Shit. Fuck. Nope. You nearly hit the button for a nurse in that moment to try and see if you could get him out. What the fuck, Michael? “He told you...?”

“Look,” he said, “I’m flattered, [y/n], I just... I like someone else. I mean, you’re - you’re cool and all, but-”

“I get it, Jeremy.” You said. “I... I understand.” You paused for a moment, “but... I did miss you and Michael, y’know.”

“Why’d we stop hanging out?” Jeremy asked.

�� Something inside of you hurt at that question. “I don’t know.” And that was true, to say the least. You had your suspicions, sure, but at the end of the day, the why rested without an answer.

He stared at you. “Wait...” He trailed off, before looking away. “Oh.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “shit.” He looked back at you, “hey, uh, I’m - I’m sorry for dropping you like that- I just-”

“I get it.” Which was sort-of the truth, at least. “You don’t have to apologize, Jeremy.”

“... Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in school,” he stood, “feel better soon-”

And then he was gone.

Three months later, and you were still haunted by a voice in your head every so often. You started therapy shortly after you were released from the hospital, the mystery of what happened to you remaining as such. You started medication soon after, your depression having grown worse post-SQUIP (and your father had been glad for you getting help, since he’d admitted it hurt him to watch you suffer for so long while being unsure of what to actually do to help you). You attended group therapy outside of Metuchen.

You had Rich. Rich, who picked you up on Thursday nights to drive you to group and back again. Rich, who knew how you felt and hid his guilt for pulling you into this shitty world of trauma and pain that’d haunt you for who knows how long. Rich, who slung his arm around your waist casually when the two of you were hanging out and was touchy with you in a way that made you feel safe and secure. You had Rich at your side, the friend that you honestly had never expected to have but were glad for at the end of the day. While you wished he didn’t feel the pain that you did, it was almost... nice to know that someone else understood.

At two in the morning, one mid-February day, he called you.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yeah... you?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yep,” he dragged the word out. “Uh - do you...?”

“You go first, Rich.”

His phone must have been on speaker, because you heard the sound of him shifting in bed - blanket swooshing as he probably turned over onto his side. “Same old shit.” He began, “I, uh, was in Jake’s house, and... it was on fire. My, uh... It was there.” He paused for a moment, “y’know. Saying the same shit.” You didn’t have to see Rich to know he was touching his neck, fingers running along the scars there. “What about you?”

Your phone was lying beside your head. Shutting your eyes, you took a breath before exhaling slowly. “It was, uh, actually... good for once. I mean - it started good. I was... I was with Jeremy. I... think we were dating? I don’t know - we were holding hands and I had let go and walked ahead only to notice he was standing still, and - it... it’s weird, Rich, but - I swear there was some kind of stupid circuit pattern that, like, trailed down his neck - and... and his smile, Rich-” You paused, taking a shaky breath, “and then I heard it.” Another long pause. “Then I woke up.”

You heard Rich suck in a breath. For the longest time, there was silence on the other end. Despite not hearing any chimes to indicate it, you thought that maybe he had hung up. But then he spoke, voice quiet and broken, “why did you say yes?”

“What?”

“To - to buying it, [y/n].”

You stared up at your ceiling. Soon enough, you kicked off your blankets as you grew too hot for comfort, shifting against to try and find some sort of comfortable position. “You sold it pretty well, I guess.” You started, before biting your lip for a moment, “I thought it could help me.”

“... With?”

You changed the topic. “Why’d you take it?”

No response.

“Rich?”

“Gretch is gonna fucking suck tomorrow.”

“... Yeah.”

“You wanna skip?”

No, you wanted to say. But you shrugged. “Yeah. Where are we doing?”

“Fuck, I don’t know - Wawa?”

“Sure.”

Rich’s truck was like a second home to you, between the times the two of you skipped classes and every drive to and from therapy. The two of you skipped class too often - sometimes morning classes, sometimes afternoon, it always depended on how the two of you were doing. Sometimes you’d sit in the Wawa parking lot, eating breakfast or lunch, enjoying the rebellious freedom that came with skipping class. The guilt would stay in the backseat, a constant reminder of your fuck-ups, but... you were glad to have a moment to breathe.

Rich’s hand found yours that morning. He squeezed it. For a minute, there were just two broken teens sitting together, holding hands, trying to feel less broken together.

Over a week later, you texted Rich after hearing it - or, at least, you thought you did. He told you to call Michael - closer to you, and carrier of the Mountain Dew Red at you and Rich’s mutual request. Your finger lingered over Michael’s contact information when a thought struck you, hard and heavy. Why call him? Why not let it come back and fix what it had done? You felt broken enough - how much more damage could it do to you? Besides... now you knew how to take care of it. Maybe that knowledge would be enough to help you gain some sort of control over it.

An hour later, Rich texted you saying Michael hadn’t heard from you. Another hour passed. He told you he was coming over. You couldn’t respond, staring at your phone blankly as tears began to well up. Thirty minutes later, rocks hit your window. Five minutes later, Rich was sitting on the end of your bed as you curled back up, the bottle sitting on the bed between the two of you. He looked tired, running a hand nervously through his hair as he didn’t meet your eyes.

“I know.” He said, breaking the silence. “Just - don’t fucking do it, okay?”

You broke your gaze away from the bottle. “What?”

“I... I’ve thought about it too,” he said, quieter this time. “But... I think...” He paused, “it’s just a bad idea, alright?”

“It can’t-”

“It can.” He stressed, before grabbing the bottle with one hand and your hand in the other. He pressed the bottle into your hand, curling your fingers around it in a cliche action. “Just - fucking drink it, [y/n]. I’m tired.”

“You can stay here tonight.”

“Nah,” he stood. “I... need to get home soon. Just... drink it, alright?”

He didn’t leave you until you finally obliged.

The chill in the air that came with early March was no match for the chill you felt whenever you were around Michael. But Michael had the soda, and Rich lived farther away from you, so he became your lifeline whenever you felt the prickly feeling that came with every nightmare of it and he, thankfully without much complaint, would show up on your front lawn. You sat next to him in silence, an half-empty bottle of Mountain Dew Red sitting in your lap as Michael quietly looked up at the stars. The feeling in your stomach almost seemed to weigh you down, keeping you in place until Michael decided he’d had enough, until he gave up on sitting with you.

But he didn’t. He just sat there in silence, wearing his signature red hoodie in an attempt to keep himself warm. His breath colored the air with a puff of white as he exhaled. It was too cold for this shit, and yet... he sat with you.

“What was it like?” He began at one point, slowly looking over to you. “Y’know... the...” He paused, before tapping his temple, as if you hadn’t understood before. But you understood the why there.

“Like I was a puppet,” you said, echoing back something you’d said before in therapy. Almost completely subconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “I... I could disobey, but... it would get mad, and - and I didn’t like that, so I just... I did what it told me to. Sometimes, it would...” The ghost of a shock silenced you, and your breath hitched for a second as you try to regain some control over yourself.

When Michael’s hand landed on your forearm, you flinched immediately. But before he could fully tear his hand away from you (having only just pulled it away slightly), you immediately shifted closer to him. Almost as if he understood, he opened himself to you, and - after hesitating for too many moments - you nearly collapsed into his arms, wrapping your own around his torso and burying your face in his neck. At first you had just wanted the comfort. The warmth of another person. But your breath went shaky, and before Michael could say or do anything else, he heard you choke back a sob before you clutched at the fabric of his hoodie. Every soft, broken apology sent pain rippling through him. He’d been so pissed with you before, and now...

Now it was as if Michael was a child again, having seen the aftermath of hurricanes through Florida on the news. Or like the car accident he once witnessed, only staring before one of his moms tore him away from the sight, picking him up with ease and keeping his face turned away. He understood, all within that moment. He knew you were hurting, and in turn, he felt that pain too. He had hurt. He was in so much damn pain when he found out you’d originally just been using him, and now... he understood that maybe (or, perhaps, definitely, but a definite wasn’t quite there yet in his book) nothing had been your idea. Part of him wanted to look away from you, to give you some kind of privacy, and yet... you clung to him. You kept your face buried in his neck, hot tears wetting his skin, and you shook in his arms as you kept stammering out apology after apology for things that did and didn’t involve him.

That was when Michael decided that forgiveness was back on the table. Neither of you were ready to have that talk, but... the fact of the matter was that he let that option exist again. Every glimpse of you that had come flooding back to him when he visited you in the hospital seemed to haunt his memory once more. The real you. The you he hadn’t seen in so long. And, if he were honest, the you that he genuinely had begun to miss when your presence disappeared all that time ago.

He was ready to try again, if you were there to meet him halfway.

The following Wednesday came with a disgusting feeling of dread the moment that thunder clapped during your last class. You’d left your umbrella at home - clear skies, your weather app had lied - and chances were you were going to miss your bus when meeting with the guidance counselor quickly after school (because, of course, shit never worked out in your favor). So you clenched your jaw and pulled your bag close to you, taking off as the rain pounded against the pavement. You almost slipped, you could barely see through the rain, and you were already soaked to the bone by the time you were a fourth of the way home. When you heard a car coming down the street, you thought nothing of it until it slowed down, pulling over towards the side of the road and steadily crawling alongside you.

Well, fuck, if you were about to die, at least you wouldn’t deal with-

The car honked. When you turned, you immediately recognized the P.T. Cruiser and the two boys inside of it. Immediately, the passenger side window rolled down. “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping-”

“Michael-” You started to say, only to stop as you weigh your options. Get in the car and face Michael and Jeremy - or keep waking home in the rain. You barely even considered the latter as you pulled open the back door, throwing your bag in and immediately slipping into the warm car.

The backseat was comfortable. It had always been comfortable, actually - that much was certain. Even when you were shivering endlessly, sopping-wet backpack lying in the floorboard between your legs as you rub your arms in some attempt to get warm, you felt strangely at home sitting in the back of Michael’s car. The sticker was still on the head-rest of the driver’s side. Jeremy kept looking back at you every so often as Michael made his way towards your house. The moment he turned onto your street, you went for your keys.

And, of fucking course, you must have forgotten them that morning. So you ended up in Michael’s house, sitting on his bed in some of his spare clothes while your clothes are being oh-so-lovingly laundered by the ever-so-gracious Michael Mell. You toyed with the fabric of tee-shirt you were wearing, some indie band logo printed across the chest - something that felt so Michael, when you thought about it. Of course he’d have some obscure merch. You sat there with one of your class binders in your lap, working on homework when you finally get to geometry. As if to make the day even worse, you realized you were missing your calculator.

“Shit,” you said, “fuck-” You looked up to Michael and Jeremy, “can I, uh, borrow a calculator? I think I left mine at school-”

Jeremy stared at you for a split second before immediately going for his own bag. He stammered through a sentence, before he finally pulled out a familiar purple case and held it out to you. “I, uh, was going to give it to you tomorrow - I meant to give it back earlier but I, uh, forgot-”

You took it gingerly from him, before kind-of smiling in return. “It’s fine,” you said, “thank you-” and then you cut yourself off with a sneeze, your arm flying to cover your mouth.

Michael chuckled a little as he laid back, stretching himself along the foot of his bed. “If you needed a ride, you should have just asked, ya goof,” he smiled at you.

You nudged him with your foot. “Come on, Mell,” you said, “I thought I’d be fine.”

“You’re lucky Jeremy saw you, y’know,” he said, “I didn’t notice you crossing the street earlier, so...”

Jeremy flushed at the comment. Your gaze flickered from him back to Michael, “I thought you were driving, Michael.”

“I was!”

“Aren’t you supposed to pay attention?”

“I was!” He said again, sitting up, “you weren’t even crossing in front of me!”

“Thank god for that,” you said.

“Wh- I wouldn’t hit you!”

“That’s what they all say, Michael.” You smiled a little, “no, dude, I totally wouldn’t kill my wife, who would do that? Not me. I wouldn’t kill my wife-”

“[y/n]!” Michael poked you in the leg, “come on - I don’t think I’d be that obvious-”

“Are you seriously trying to say you’d be able to get away with that?” You said, only to notice how silent Jeremy had gone. When you looked back to him, you noticed that he had just sat there, watching you and Michael playfully bicker over his totally not real plans to murder someone. When your eyes meet his, he blinked, awkwardly smiling as he looked away and towards his phone. You barely get a glimpse of the time before you realized that your parents should be home.

So Michael drove you (and Jeremy) home at long last, leaving you to thank him a thousand times on the way there and as you got out of the car. You barely had time to wave back at him before you crossed your front lawn to get to shelter, rain pelting you the entire time as you head inside with plans to tackle your homework.

The next morning, you felt like shit. At three in the morning, you woke up with the grossest feeling taking hold of you and forcing you out of bed and to the bathroom. With a disgusting taste left in your mouth, you sank back, your senses completely muffled as you realized what had happened. Fever. Fuck. You pressed your back against the rim of the bathtub, and you breathed. Shit. Shit shit shit shit- you didn’t need to get sick. You skipped enough class as it was - this was only going to make shit worse.

You didn’t realize you passed out shortly after until your dad stumbled across you. He woke you up gently, before helping you to your feet and helping your sluggish form back to your bedroom after pressing a cold hand against your forehead. Shaking his head, he walked you to your bed, leaving the room and returning with a cup of water to leave on your nightstand. He told you that he would be at work, but that your mom would drop by during her lunch break to check on you and hopefully bring some medicine. You barely processed it before you fell back asleep.

The next time you woke up was around lunchtime. You still felt hazy and hot with fever, but the sound of your phone going off was enough to capture your attention. Michael. He had asked where you were, and you barely have enough energy to type out what you thought was just a simple “fever” - thankfully, auto-correct caught you - before you turned back over with the intent of going back to sleep. Barely ten minutes pass before your mom came in with a plastic bag in her hands, rattling off the contents of it before she felt your forehead. She told you to get some more rest. You happily obliged.

The next day, after a night of bland soup and forcing down your meds with ice cold water, you see a newly formed group chat with you, Michael, and Jeremy, poised proudly at the top of your messages.

Michael: u guys need anything or

You stared at the message. You guys? You barely have time to try and question it further when a text bubble popped up.

Jeremy: i’m good

You: what

You: you ok, jer?

Jeremy: no im sick

You: what

You: how???

Jeremy: you

Michael: jeremys being a little bitch

Michael: hes always like this when he’s sick

Michael: you need anything, [y/n]??

You: idk some good soup would be rad

You: my dad brought some gross shit last night and it sucked

You: parents got medicine.

You: send me love.

You: and tissues

Jeremy: please let me sleep

You: sorry jer

Michael: kk

Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. You forced yourself out of bed, managing to get the front door open only to see a little plastic bag sitting right outside of it. You looked up to see Michael standing outside of his car, and you could only assume that he rushed back to his car to avoid exposure. He waved at you, only budging from his spot when you wave back at him.

Bless Michael Mell and the soup he brought you. You’d have to thank his mom. Or maybe both of them - they were both goddesses in your eyes. You only knew that Michael couldn’t cook for shit.

At midnight, you woke up again, a dull hunger restless in your stomach. You had left some soup for later, and you were fully ready to heat the rest of it up and devour it. You shoved the Tupperware bowl into the microwave, punching in a number before you swayed into the counter, leaning against it to keep yourself standing as the microwave buzzed. Strangely enough... it almost felt internal after a minute.

Then you heard it. Your own name being cooed in a voice that sent shivers and a ghost of a shock through you. Glitching in and out. You panicked. You bolted, dashing to your room to find your phone. Your hands were shaking as you went to unlock it, fucking it up the first two times before finally getting it the last. You didn’t think. You went for the first number you saw.

The moment someone picked up, you spoke. “Michael,” you said, voice caught in your throat, “shit - dude- it’s - it’s back-” You took a breath, trying to calm yourself before continuing, “just - I need the Mountain Dew Red. Please-”

You heard a distant, groggy “...what?” on the other hand as a hand fell over your own, causing you to slowly lower the phone as it appeared before you.

It stood tall as ever, eyes gentle, manipulating your senses as you swore you felt warmth from it’s hand over your’s. “We can fix this.” It said, voice quiet. Soft. Gentle. “We can start over and make everything right.”

“I...” You whimpered, attempting to take a step back. Instinctively, you dropped your phone and shut your eyes and covered your ears in an attempt to drown everything out. “No.” The word spilled past your lips once, twice, too many times as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Fingers grazed your cheek almost lovingly. “Just let me fix this, [y/n].” It said softly, almost kind, and you felt your stomach drop. “You can reboot me - just - another dose of regular Mountain Dew-”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m - you’d-”

“I’ll fix this. I promise-”

The sound of frantic knocking at your front door was enough to force you to your feet as you rushed to answer before anyone else could wake up. “Michael-”

Jeremy stood there, soaking wet and panting like crazy as he clutched a bottle of salvation within his right hand. He straightened up a bit, holding it out to you. “Sorry - Michael, uh, gave me a few bottles as back-up so I ran-” He said.

He shut up the moment you flung your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, completely ignoring the soda he carried in favor of comfort. Just for a second. That’s all you had needed. He stiffened up underneath you as you clung to him, only for you to pull away almost immediately after.

After you took the bottle and unscrewed the cap, downing the drink with nothing with a minor headache following in it’s wake, Jeremy could only stare at you. “You... You really heard it, huh?”

You winced, breath hitching as you swayed slightly. Jeremy’s hands found your shoulders, steadying you as you looked back up at him. “I-” You started, only to stop immediately, “thank you- I’m- I’m sorry you had to run here.” You paused, “I... didn’t know it was raining, or I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine,” he said, letting go of you as he took a small step back. “I’m - I’m gonna head back home-”

Thunder clapped. Lightning flashed in the distance. You reached out and caught him by the wrist, “stay here.” You said, “it’s - it’s late, and... and I don’t want you walking home in the rain.”

He almost debated with you, but another growl of thunder was enough to debunk whatever argument he was formulating as he followed you inside. You locked your front door back, retreated back to your room to find some clean clothes that would hopefully fit him (thank fuck for all your baggy shit, still hidden away in your closet), and handed him a towel. The microwave chirped for what you could assume was the thousandth time, and you rushed to stop it - only to have to punch in more time. You could hear the shower running from the room over. The hum of the microwave, the smell of spices tinting the air... and you felt alive. You were there. Breathing. Heart pumping. Mind... going, at least - even if there were moments of betrayal there. You were still there, and it was strange to think about that sometimes.

The water shut off abruptly, and you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you stopped the microwave just a second before it was meant to go off. As you seated yourself at the kitchen table, Jeremy emerged and made his way over to you. He pulled out the chair nearest to you, and slowly sank into it.

“You feeling better?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I, uh, I should be asking you that.”

“You were sick too, Jeremy,” you said, “why’d you run here?”

“You sounded scared,” he shrugged, “besides - I’m better-” Immediately he was cut off by a cacophony of coughs, as he turned away from you. “I’m fine. What about-” He finally looked back at you, still embarrassed of the shades of red he’d turned, “what about you?”

You suppressed a smile. “I’m... decent.” You shrugged, “I’ve... never really seen it before tonight.”

“You haven’t?”

“Nope.” You paused, “I dunno. Maybe being sick like... weakened me or something.” After another pause, you noticed Jeremy shiver. “You can take my room, Jer. It’s warmer - I’ll just - I’ll take the couch-”

“It’s fine, [y/n] - I’ll just - I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“You are not sleeping on the floor, Jeremiah,” you feigned offense, “you are a guest! You’ll take my room and I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“You’re still sick too, y’know,” he retorted, “just - I’ll take one side of the bed if you want-”

“Fine.” You frowned as you stood, “if you insist.”

After leaving the bowl in the sink, filled with water in the classic “it has to soak” manner, you lead Jeremy to your bedroom. You snagged your phone from the floor, plugging it back into charge as you took one side of your bed - making sure to stay as close to the edge as possible while Jeremy took the other. The room was almost silent, the sound of Jeremy breathing quiet enough to merely tint the air.

Right as you started to fall asleep, you turned onto your back. “Jeremy?” You said, stifled by a yawn. When he hummed in acknowledgement, you continued, “thanks for coming here.”

You barely caught his soft, almost hesitant “yeah, uh, no problem” as you fell asleep.

#mj's writing corner #be more chill x reader #be more chill reader insert #bmc reader insert #bmc imagine #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine

44 notes · View notes

emmerrr · 6 years ago

Note

heyyyy if you wanna write a pynch vday fic, how about one where they're like... both trying to be sneaky about planning sth for valentines day and so both think the other has forgotten about it and they're both like ://// but it all uhh works out in the end?? x

what a top notch suggestion, absoLUTELY i can write that 💕💕 (uhh heads up this got kinda long, i’ll put it on ao3 too and reblog with a link later)

Adam sat alone in a corner booth of Nino’s, History notes open on the table before him. He’d written VALENTINE’S DAY?? in the margin, underlined three times. He frowned at the words, wondering why he was fixating on them, and turned his head to stare listlessly out of the window instead.

Blue was there working, but she’d been too busy to come and say hello so far, simply offering him a harried wave when she spotted him walk in, pointing him towards the table he was now seated at. The other staff at Nino’s never bothered them anymore, knowing Blue would cover their table. Adam had heard them being referred to as “Blue’s Boys” on more than one occasion.

He was currently the only one there, having beaten Henry and Gansey out of the school gates. He assumed they’d got held up by a traffic light or two, and Ronan had further to drive than the rest of them so would likely arrive last anyway.

Thinking of Ronan immediately returned Adam’s thoughts to the words written in his notes and he scowled at the parking lot. On the surface, Valentine’s Day didn’t seem like it would be Ronan’s thing. Adam wasn’t even particularly sure it was his thing. But the fact remained that Valentine’s Day was a week away, and Adam didn’t know what, if anything, he was expected to do for it.

He tried to think back to previous years and remembered receiving an anonymous card from someone back in the seventh grade; a generic heart-shaped thing that simply said ‘Will you be my Valentine? x’ inside. He was fairly certain the sender was a girl in his English class who had never said a word to him but blushed every time she caught his eye. Adam didn’t see how he was supposed to answer whether or not he’d be her Valentine if she never told him she had sent it. And of course, she never owned up, and he didn’t want to suggest it was her in case he was wrong, and he didn’t actually want to be her Valentine anyway. So it was never mentioned again.

The difference here was that Ronan was his actual boyfriend. Didn’t that mean that they were each other’s Valentines by default, then?

Adam didn’t know. He’d never navigated Valentine’s Day before. Not like this.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Henry and Gansey approach until they were right there.

“Oh, History notes,” Henry exclaimed. “Can I borrow them?”

Adam turned his head to see Henry already sliding the notebook towards him. “Your notes are always make more sense than mi—” Henry cut himself off, eyes widening at something on the page. Too late Adam remembered the VALENTINE’S DAY?? in the margin and slapped his hand over it, snatching back his notebook.

Henry was grinning at him. “Big plans?”

“No,” Adam muttered. “No plans at all.” He stuffed the notebook into his messenger bag.

Gansey had slid into the booth opposite Adam and watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. “What have I missed?”

“Nothing, apparently,” Henry said easily. Adam was grateful that Henry clearly wasn’t going to push it (at least not with an audience), but reasoned he could perhaps use some advice.

“So,” he started. “Valentine’s Day. Thoughts?”

“I’m glad you asked, Parrish,” Gansey said. “It was originally a Western Christian feast day honouring a couple of early saints called Valentinius—”

“Yes, thank you, Captain Wikipedia,” Henry cut in. “I’m not entirely sure that’s what he meant.”

A jug of Iced Tea was plonked onto the table without ceremony and they all looked up to Blue Sargent as she handed out glasses.

“It’s a dumb holiday invented by Hallmark to sell more cards,” she said, obviously having heard the tail-end of the conversation.

“Well, obviously there’s that too,” Gansey said, beaming at her.

Adam sighed. They were all monumentally unhelpful.

“Why the interest, Adam?” Blue asked, a knowing glint in her eye.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just…okay, with Ronan, do I just treat it like any other day? Do I get him a card? Will he think it’s stupid? Do I think it’s stupid?”

There was a short silence as the three of them blinked back at him, and then Blue carefully said, “Do you think it’s stupid?”

Adam wasn’t sure how to answer that. The truth was that he sort of did think it was stupid, but he also thought he wanted to acknowledge it anyway. He thought doing nothing at all kind of made him look like an asshole.

In the end, it all circled back to Ronan, and whether he would care. Did he have anything planned? Was he having an internal crisis over it as well?

In lieu of an answer, Adam shrugged again.

“Speak of the devil,” Henry said, and nodded towards the entrance.

Ronan, dressed all in black (of course), had just stepped inside. He scanned the restaurant without turning his head but when he spotted Adam, his shoulders relaxed, and he smiled just a little.

Adam didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that.

“Oh god, you two are the worst,” Blue scoffed as Ronan started to make his way over.

“What?” Adam said without looking at her.

“You know exactly what, Adam Parrish. You and Ronan with the googly eyes. Jesus Christ, you’re in public. Tone it down.”

“You tone it down,” Ronan said jovially, hip-checking Blue as he drew level. “What are we talking about?”

“The origins of Valentine’s Day,” Gansey said delicately.

Ronan snorted derisively. “Valentine’s Day,” he said with as much scorn as he could muster, “is capitalistic bullshit invented to sell cards and flowers and chocolate.”

“Hey man, that’s exactly what I said,” Blue said, sounding pleased, and she and Ronan fist-bumped. Adam rolled his eyes. They really were two sides of the same coin.

“You’re in my seat, Cheng,” Ronan said.

“Sit by Gansey, I was here first.”

Ronan shrugged. “Fair’s fair.” He stepped up onto the seat and over Henry and squeezed into the spot between him and Adam.

“Ronan Lynch,” Gansey hissed. “You’ll get us kicked out!”

“Calm down, Dick, no one noticed,” Ronan said. He had both arms stretched out across the back of the booth, and Adam and Henry were both leaning into him a little thanks to the lack of space.

“This is cozy,” Henry said cheerfully.

It was Blue’s turn to roll her eyes and she pulled her little notepad out of her apron pocket. “Alright, I have to actually do my job now, what do you want? Gansey, I’m assuming you want your usual half-avocado monstrosity?”

“You’re a millennial, Blue, you’re supposed to like avocados.”

Her disgusted expression was answer enough. The rest of them rattled off their food order and then Blue went off to put it through.

“Doesn’t anyone want to come and sit by me?” Gansey asked. “It’s lonely over here.”

“Oh, don’t pull that face, Gansey, you’re making me sad,” Henry said, swapping sides. He scooched right the way over to Gansey and draped an arm around his shoulder before sighing loftily. “It’s hard being this popular.”

“But someone has to do it,” Adam said drily, earning him a quicksilver smile.

“And I do it so well.”

Ronan was stopping at Adam’s for the night, but they had each come to Nino’s in their own cars so separated in the parking lot to drive over to St Agnes in a convoy.

Ronan was already peeling out of the lot by the time Adam reached his shitbox, and he was held up further by Henry calling his name. He turned and Henry jogged over, Gansey nowhere to be seen and most likely still inside saying goodbye to Blue.

“Oh, sorry,” Adam said. “You wanted my History notes, right?”

“No, that’s not — well, yeah, actually, thank you,” he said, taking them when Adam handed them over. “I actually came over here to give you some unsolicited advice.”

“About the Valentine’s Day thing?”

“That’s the one.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s not entirely unsolicited. But anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You heard him.”

“Yeah, I heard him. Sounds like posturing to me.”

Adam tilted his head to the side. “You think?” Ronan certainly was prone to posturing.

“Sure. I mean, I have no doubt that he really does think Valentine’s Day is what he said in there, but I wouldn’t let that put you off doing something, if you wanted to.” Henry waited for a response, and when Adam didn’t offer one, he prompted, “You do want to, don’t you?”

Adam smiled wryly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you know what to look for,” Henry said, but before Adam could think on that too much, he continued. “Look, I don’t know Ronan as well as you do, but even from the outside, it’s clear how he feels about you.”

Feeling himself blush, Adam immediately looked down at the ground. He did know how Ronan felt about him. It was often whispered to him in the middle of the night when it felt like they were the only two people in the world. It just took him off guard to hear it so plainly from someone else.

“Think about it, Adam. Regardless of how Ronan personally feels about what Valentine’s Day stands for, do you really think he’s going to let a day when he’s practically green-lit to be as obnoxious as possible about you just pass him by?” Henry shook his head. “Not the Ronan Lynch I know.”

Well, when it was put that way. “Did he say something to you? Do you know something?”

“Not a thing,” Henry said, and Adam believed him. “It’s just an observation and an educated guess.”

“Huh,” Adam said thoughtfully. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them in the air, catching them again, ideas already forming in his head. If Ronan was going to be obnoxious, Adam could be obnoxious too. “Thanks, Henry. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t lose my notes.”

“I will try my level best.”

Adam gave himself three rules for Ronan’s Valentine’s gift:

1) It had to be heartfelt.

2) It also had to be in good humour and not take itself too seriously.

3) It had to be cheap.

He was too sensible to spend money he didn’t have on some arbitrary gift Ronan wouldn’t appreciate. Not to mention that Ronan was impossible enough to buy for as it was; firstly he was rich enough to buy himself pretty much anything he might want, and secondly he could literally manifest his dreams. It was going to make future birthdays and Christmas’s an absolute nightmare.

(But what a wonderful problem to have.)

What it all basically meant was that Adam had to go homemade, and given that he had school and work (and Ronan) to work around, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to do it.

He borrowed Gansey’s laptop during lunch-break on Monday at Aglionby and made Ronan a mix-CD of the cheesiest love songs he could think of. It featured such classics as You Make My Dreams by Hall & Oates, Heaven by Bryan Adams, True by Spandau Ballet, and many, many more. It wasn’t even remotely Ronan’s kind of music which made it funny, but as embarrassing as some of the songs might have been, they did actually somewhat echo Adam’s own feelings. He got to be a sap in the guise of it being a joke, and Ronan would get a kick out of it.

Obviously, he also added the Murder Squash Song for good measure.

Next up was a card. He could have bought one — his budget would have allowed it — but all the store ones were godawful and Adam couldn’t even imagine giving one of them to Ronan ironically.

Luckily he had an ace up his sleeve.

The first time that Ronan had stayed over at Adam’s after they were together in the very early days of their relationship, Adam had woken up to a frozen Ronan with a handful of strangely lovely flowers, the exact shade of blue as Adam’s eyes.

Adam had kept them in a cheap vase on the windowsill until they died, but unbeknownst to Ronan, he’d also taken one and pressed it to make a little print; his own private memento.

He was obviously keeping the original for himself, but he took it into the school library a couple of days before Valentine’s Day and scanned it, printing it out on some high quality photo card he’d ‘acquired’ from one of the Art rooms.

Once the ink was dry, he folded it down the middle as carefully as possible and put it inside his heaviest textbook to keep it folded and flat until he got it home.

He spent longer than probably necessary trying to decide what to write, but in the end, he went with:

Ronan,

I think maybe it was always you. I think it always will be. Happy Valentine’s Day (gross).

Love, Adam x

He didn’t have a nice envelope to put it in, so it had to go in a bigger manila one that Adam still had lying around. He slipped both the card and the CD inside, and wrote Ronan’s name in capitals on the outside.

He looked at his offering. It somehow didn’t seem enough.

Valentine’s Day was on Thursday, so on Wednesday— after school but before a shift at Boyd’s— Adam found himself in the kitchen of 300 Fox Way. He’d bought everything he needed to make chocolate brownies before he’d realised he didn’t have a tin in which to cook them in. He was also severely lacking in several other kitchen utensils, to be honest. One panicked phone-call to Blue later, and he had everything he needed and a helping hand.

Well, ‘helping’ was a strong word.

“Why brownies?” Blue asked from where she sat perched on the kitchen table.

“Because brownies are the best,” Adam said, frowning at the recipe he had printed out.

“Alright, can’t argue with that,” Blue said reasonably.

Adam was aware of her watching him while he slowly got out everything he needed and started weighing out ingredients. He felt unreasonably nervous about it, even though he knew that provided he followed the recipe, everything would be fine. Baking was a science, after all, and Adam was good at science.

But looking at it all now with Blue scrutinising his every move, he felt flustered and unmoored.

“I thought you were going to help,” he said pointedly.

“I am helping. I’m supervising,” Blue said.

Adam smiled at that. “I see. Are you the kind of supervisor who can grease this tin for me?”

“I suppose so,” Blue said loftily as she launched herself off the table.

Blue started chattering away after that which helped Adam calm down and focus on what he was doing, and it didn’t take long to make the mixture after that. Adam tilted the pan while Blue used a wooden spoon to scrape the mixture out and into the brownie tin.

After that, they just had to put it in the oven and wait.

Blue brewed up some of Maura’s least offensive tea as they sat and waited, and Adam finally asked what he’d been dying to all week.

“Do you know if Ronan has anything planned?”

Blue smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, Adam, I have absolutely no idea. He hasn’t said a word. I’ve barely seen him though, and never really without you there.” She shrugged. “If he’s got a plan he’s keeping it close to his chest.”

Adam nodded; he’d assumed as much. “I just want to know if I’m doing too much, or not doing enough? I dunno, it’s stupid. It’s only Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, but it’s your first Valentine’s Day together,” Blue said, not unkindly. “I get it.”

“What are you and Gansey doing?”

“I made him a card and found him a couple of ‘slovenly’ t-shirts at the thrift store. I’m gonna hazard a guess that he’s getting me flowers, and he told me to keep the evening free so he’s probably taking me somewhere. Wherever it is, it better not be expensive.”

Adam grinned. “Maybe it’s Nino’s.”

“God, don’t even joke, I’d murder him. Again.”

He started to laugh, and after a couple of seconds Blue joined in. When it died down, Blue put her hand on his arm.

“Don’t overthink it, Adam. Ronan will love whatever you give him, because you’re the one it’s coming from. It’s not about the gifts you get or the meal you have or how much money you spend. I think it’s more about the gesture. That’s what’ll mean the most to Ronan.”

Adam managed a small smile. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Blue opened a drawer and gasped, then pulled out a heart-shaped cookie cutter. “Oh my God, Adam, you have to.”

She held out the cookie-cutter towards him and he took it, sighing. “Really?”

“Yes! This way, they’ll all be exactly the same size and I get to eat all the cut-offs. Y’know, as my fee for helping.”

And that’s how Adam ended up with nine perfect little heart-shaped brownies.

Adam didn’t see Ronan that night, thanks to finishing late at Boyd’s and then having homework after.

When he woke up in the morning, he was hit by the realisation that he and Ronan hadn’t even arranged to see each other that day at all.

He half expected Ronan to show up at St Agnes unannounced with a bouquet of dream flowers and some donuts or something. But that didn’t happen, and Adam slowly packed his messenger bag for school, remembering to include the Tupperware of Valentine’s brownies and the envelope with its enclosed card and CD.

He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to give them to Ronan, but it was better to be prepared.

Adam walked down to his car, scanning the parking lot and the street to see if there was any sign of a shark-nosed BMW. But there was nothing, and there was nothing on the way to school, and Adam made it all the way through to lunch without seeing or hearing from Ronan.

Obviously, he had no phone, and Ronan hated his own phone. But Gansey had a phone, and Ronan could have got in touch that way if he had felt so inclined.

Adam didn’t know what he’d been expecting; that Ronan would show up at the Aglionby gates with a boombox over his head blasting out Lionel Richie songs? That he’d get back to his car after school and find out his favourite hooligan had broken in and left him a giant teddy bear and a box of chocolates?

It all seemed stupid now, and Valentine’s Day was stupid, and Adam was irritated that he’d let the pressures of the day get to him. It didn’t matter. It was a meaningless day.

So why did he feel so deflated?

At the end of the day, he caved and asked to borrow Gansey’s phone.

First, he sent a text that said: it’s adam, i’m about to call you so answer the phone

He gave it a minute until he’d seen that Ronan had read the message, and then pressed the call button.

“Parrish,” Ronan said in lieu of a hello.

All at once, like always, Adam was happy to hear Ronan’s voice. And yet he still couldn’t quite shake his irritation, even though the one who’d got his hopes up was himself.

“Hey,” he replied. “Listen, were you planning on coming over tonight?”

“Nope.” It was a little difficult to tell, but Adam thought Ronan’s tone was just a little off. “You come here.”

Adam sighed. “Ronan, I have school tomorrow so I wouldn’t even be able to stay that late. Can’t you just come here?”

There was a long pause. “Opal wants to see you.”

“So bring her with you.”

“Are you kidding, Parrish, she’s filthy. She’ll mess up the interior.”

The BMW wasn’t exactly spotless inside so this seemed a flimsy excuse. Adam started to wonder whether Ronan even wanted to see him at all.

“If you don’t want to see me today that’s fine,” he said, tone clipped.

“I didn’t say that,” Ronan said, tone just as clipped.

It felt like they were heading for a fight. Adam didn’t want to fight. He wanted to give Ronan the stupid sentimental CD he’d made. He wanted Ronan to make fun of him for the brownies. He wanted a hug.

Adam was abruptly exhausted, and it didn’t matter that he’d gone to the effort and Ronan hadn’t. He just wanted to see him.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna go home and shower but then I’ll head over to you.”

“Okay, good. See you in a bit,” Ronan said, and hung up.

The sun was down by the time Adam pulled up at the Barns. The heating in Adam’s car was dodgy enough on a good today, and today wasn’t a good day. It had barely come on, so his hands were like ice as he got out of the car.

He walked straight in when he got there and made his way to the kitchen. He hovered in the doorway; Ronan’s back was to him, a tea towel strewn over one shoulder, straining pasta over the sink.

Adam rapped his knuckles against the door-frame and Ronan turned around.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Adam replied. “You cooked?”

Ronan shrugged. “It’s just spaghetti.” He gestured to Adam’s messenger bag. “You brought homework with you?”

All that was in the bag was the Valentine’s gifts for Ronan, and he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay,” Ronan said with another shrug. “Sit. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Adam pulled himself a chair out, and it scraped against the floor noisily in the otherwise quiet. He waited for Ronan to finish serving up and then asked, “Where’s Opal?”

“No idea. Haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

Adam took a bite of his food. It was good. “I thought you said she wanted to see me.”

“She always wants to see you,” Ronan said smoothly. “I’m sure she’ll turn up when she spots your car.”

They finished eating in near silence, Adam waiting for Ronan to say something— anything— to acknowledge the day. But he didn’t, and the longer the silence dragged, the harder it seemed to break it.

Adam started towards the sink to do the washing up afterwards, but Ronan stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Just leave it, Parrish.”

“But—”

“Leave them. I’ll do them in the morning.”

Adam sighed, uncomfortable in the tension. He didn’t know what to do now. Did Ronan just want him to leave? And if so, why had he told him to come in the first place?

“Look, do you know what day it is?” Adam asked, unable to take it any longer.

“It’s Thursday,” Ronan said, chin jutted out, arms crossed. Adam glared; Ronan clearly knew exactly what day it was.

“Okay, great,” Adam said tiredly. He opened his bag and pulled out the Tupperware and the envelope. “Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.”

He put them on the table and stepped away, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He watched Ronan’s face, the expression on which had softened immediately. He looked to Adam, stricken.

“Parrish, I—”

“It’s fine, Ronan, just open them.”

Ronan snapped his mouth shut, and pulled the envelope over to him. Adam immediately felt self-conscious about his meagre homemade gifts.

“It’s not much,” he said quickly.

Ronan’s only response to this was a slight furrow in his brow. Then he took the CD out, quirking a smile at Adam’s inscription: LYNCH’S CHEESY LOVE SONG SINGALONG. It was surrounded by lots of hand drawn love-hearts that Adam now thought seemed excessive.

Ronan looked up and raised an eyebrow at Adam, a half-smirk on his face. “No track-list, Parrish?”

“It’s a surprise,” Adam said, smiling weakly, but relieved. “You’ll have to play it to find out.”

“I’ll do that,” he said with a sage nod. He put the CD down and reached for the Tupperware, pulling the lid off and tossing it aside. He looked inside and snorted. “You’ve really stuck with a theme here, huh, Parrish?”

“Hey, Valentine’s Day is all about the hearts, apparently. And to be fair, the heart-shaped brownies are Blue’s fault. She found a cookie-cutter and insisted.”

“She knew about this?” Ronan said.

“Yeah, she helped me make them.”

“That little sneak...” Ronan trailed off and let out a sharp laugh. “I asked her if she knew whether or not you were doing something, and she swore blind she had no idea.”

Adam thought about asking why Ronan had even wanted to know, but instead he pointed at the envelope. “There’s a card in there, as well.”

“In here?” Ronan turned the envelope upside down and the card slipped out into his hand. Adam watched as he took in the flower on the front, smiled a little, then did a double-take, glancing at Adam. “Hold on. Is this what I think it is?”

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh, I pressed one, before they all died. I wanted to keep it, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, something akin to awe in his voice. “I dream about them all the time.” He opened the card and read what Adam had written there, then dropped his face into his hands.

“Parrish...” he mumbled. “I feel like a fucking asshole.”

Adam went over and gently pulled the card out of Ronan’s hand, sitting down on Ronan’s lap. Ronan’s arms circled his waist automatically and he tucked his face into Adam’s neck.

“You are a fucking asshole, Lynch. I love you anyway.”

Ronan grumbled something incoherently against Adam’s skin, and Adam smiled. “What was that?”

Ronan lifted his head so he could be heard. “I said I love you right back.”

“Good,” Adam said.

“I thought you’d forgotten. And I didn’t...I didn’t want a big deal, and this day is a fucking joke or whatever, but you didn’t mention anything. And I even thought you might borrow Gansey’s phone and like, text me or something this morning? But then you didn’t and when you finally called me you sounded annoyed and I didn’t know why, and I didn’t even think you wanted to come over. So then you finally got here and you seemed mad, and so I was mad and...I’m sorry. I was here thinking you didn’t give a shit and you made stuff for me?” He hung his head, penitent. “I love my gifts. These lame brownies smell great. I’m fucking sorry, Parrish.”

“Hey.” Adam cupped Ronan’s head in his hands. “It’s fine that you didn’t get me anything. Honestly I think I just let this whole day get into my head as having to mean something when it doesn’t. I don’t need a special day to let you know how I feel. And I’m sorry if I seemed mad. I just didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

He leaned in and kissed Ronan briefly. “And Lynch, you cooked for me. You made me a whole meal. I’m pretty sure we’re even.” He kissed him again, until Ronan pulled back and covered Adam’s hands with his own.

“Um...you should come with me,” Ronan said, and he almost sounded sheepish.

They stood up and Ronan swiped the mix CD off the table and shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie, before taking Adam’s hand and leading him out the back door.

Confused but intrigued, Adam followed closely behind, clutching tight to Ronan’s fingers. It was cold outside and neither of them had their coats on, which Adam was about to point out when they walked around the corner of the nearest barn and he was rendered speechless by the sight before him.

In the middle of the grass was a small gazebo tent, the base of which was covered in luxurious looking blankets. There was a laptop in the middle of the floor, hooked up to a projector which was pointing at the outer-wall of the barn. A precarious tower of DVDs was piled up next to the laptop; Adam couldn’t see the titles from here but imagined Ronan had assembled a variety of choices. There was a big thermos, contents unknown (coffee? Hot chocolate?), and various other treats; big bags of marshmallows and Hershey’s Kisses and Reese’s Mini Peanut-Butter Cups.

And everywhere, there was light. Ronan’s twinkling little dream lights, some in jars under the gazebo, others hanging in the air, changing colour, like little fireflies.

“Ronan,” Adam finally managed hoarsely. “What the fuck?”

Ronan smirked. “You thought I hadn’t done anything.”

“Uh, yeah, because you let me think that!” Adam said. He was struggling to process how cosy and romantic it all looked. Let it never be said that Ronan Lynch wasn’t an absolute sap.

“I didn’t let you think anything, you jumped to that conclusion all on your own.”

Adam scowled. “Now I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“Don’t,” Ronan said, pressing a kiss to Adam’s temple. “Anyway, this is nothing.”

“It is so far from nothing,” Adam said. He stepped forward and took a turn around, taking everything in as he walked in a slow circle, stopping when he was facing Ronan again. “I thought Valentine’s Day was capitalistic bullshit?”

“Oh, it is,” Ronan said happily. “But for one, I didn’t spend a penny. And two, a whole day where I can spoil you as much as I want to and you don’t get to complain about it? Sign me the fuck up for that.”

Adam burst out laughing. “You’ve just reminded me of something Henry said.”

“What did he say?”

“I told him that I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d do anything because we hadn’t talked about it, and he said, and I quote: ‘do you really think he’s going to let a day when he’s practically green-lit to be as obnoxious as possible about you just pass him by?’”

Ronan was grinning now. “Cheng’s pretty smart.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. He caught one of the floating lights in his hand and then let it go again. “Just for the record, I think your dreaming abilities give you an unfair advantage when it comes to stuff like this.”

“Excuse you, Parrish, the only thing I dreamt up was the blankets because they’re heated. Oh, and the projector. And the gazebo. But that’s it.”

“‘That’s it’, he says.” Adam rolled his eyes, then accusingly added, “You dreamt up the lights.”

“Well, yeah, but not for this. I already had those. And the food was stuff I already had in the house, and the DVDs are ones I already own. I didn’t want to go overboard.”

Adam stared. “You are ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Come here.”

Ronan went, without question or hesitation, and Adam wrapped his arms around his neck.

“This is the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Ronan whispered, kissing a line up Adam’s neck and across his face, the tip of his nose, his forehead, “for the brownies, for what you wrote in the card...Jesus, Adam. It’s the same for me. You know that, right? It’s always you.”

Adam squeezed tighter, feeling dangerously overcome. He breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of Ronan, and then released his grip. “And for the CD, obviously,” he said.

“Of course,” Ronan said, and smiled sharply. “Speaking of...” He pulled it out of his pocket and walked over to his laptop. “I’ll let you pick a movie in a bit, but first, I wanna listen to my present.”

He popped the CD into the drive and pressed a couple of buttons on the mouse, and a moment later the opening track started to play: I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.

Ronan laughed, once, soundlessly, then came back over to Adam and held his hand out.

“Well?” he said when Adam didn’t move. “Are you dancing?”

Adam grinned. “Are you asking?”

“I’m asking.”

“Then I’m dancing.” He took Ronan’s hand and together they swayed, far too slowly for a song this upbeat, but Ronan didn’t seem to mind, and Adam certainly didn’t.

They didn’t speak while they were dancing, both perhaps a little shaken at the near-miss of an argument, both relieved they hadn’t let it get that far. Both content to be in each other’s company, away from prying eyes and expectations.

It was still early days. They were still learning how to do this, navigating firsts and futures and each other, but they were both quick studies, and Adam couldn’t think of anything more worthwhile than building a foundation— and a life— with Ronan.

There were trickier days to come, but for now, they’d survived their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. As they lay curled together in a blanket watching The Princess Bride projected onto the side of a barn, Adam thought he’d have to mark this one down as a win.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Parrish,” Ronan whispered into Adam’s hair.

“Ugh,” Adam said, and kissed him. “Happy Thursday.”

#the raven cycle #pynch #tumblr prompts #lesbianparrish #adamparrishes #trc

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