#imagine listenin 2 music with him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artificialqueens · 6 years ago

Text

Elastic Heart - Part 4 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: Things are heating up. A bit. Like at least a simmer.

Brock was an emotional child. He said it on the show and it’s the truth. Growing up, he was labeled “too sensitive,” the little boy who rescued spiders instead of stomping them, who cried over books (don’t even get him started on Where the Red Fern Grows) and was quiet at birthday parties. It didn’t take him long as a teenager to realize that being that sort of person was not okay at all (what are you GAY or something?), and so brick by brick, he built walls.

You keep walls up long enough and you start to think they’ve always been there. That you’ve always been a private person, the kind that would make a joke instead of acknowledging a shared pain. The kind that would force a smile while the world was ending.

You start to think, maybe, you were born with those walls around your heart.

Maybe the walls are your heart.

But Brock knows that even brick doesn’t last forever. In Toronto you’d see the old buildings starting to crumble in the winter, damaged by water that froze and cracked their foundations. Brick walls can chip, can shatter. Brock’s spent his twenties and early thirties in perpetual maintenance because he knows (he knows) you let a little bit of emotion through, you lose a little bit of self-control, and you lose everything.

Sometimes he feels an odd sort of - not jealousy exactly, but something hungry around queens like Yvie, queens that can go places, be self-righteous and furious and vulnerable, without falling completely to pieces. Queens like Silky who can rage and shout and then move on like the storm never came.

Queens like Vanjie.

Episode 6 is a tough watch. Vanjie crying in the werkroom is physically painful, and Brock puts on a brave face, smiles for his friends and does not let his walls down. He can’t afford to.

Episode 7 is tough in a different way. It’s beyond uncomfortable watching himself talk about personal things on television, hard not to feel like the worst sort of demure Canadian stereotype. He watches Untucked at an after-after-party, and that’s even worse. Everyone seems to love his stupid face, mugging for the fucking camera (and he remembers being a little buzzed but nowhere near as drunk as the world seems to think he is. Those cocktails are more than half ice and probably watered-down vodka anyway.)

More than that, though, is the sight of Vanjie. He hates the way her eyes go dark with surprise and injury after Yvie calls her out. He hates the argument that follows. He even hates the sight of himself building a fucking pillow-fort (incredible legs aside, he’s not blind). It seemed funny enough at the time but now - not so much.

Sometime around 2 am, his phone rings.

Brock is not asleep. He fumbles for a moment on the side table, forgetting briefly that he’s in a hotel and not in his own bed. (He’s always in a hotel these days. And that’s fine. It’s fine.)

“‘lo?”

“Hi mama.”

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

“Hi papi.”

There is music in the background, dulled slightly but still Brock can make out the thump of a DJ, the thunder of a dancefloor. Jose must be in the dressing room of a club.

Brock imagines him, shining with sweat after a show, out of heels but still in lip gloss. If he closes his eyes he can see him, an image distorted by fantasy and loss, bright strokes of crimson oil-paint.

“How you doing?” Jose asks and Brock swallows down a million replies that are too painful to say.

Instead - because he bottles up his feelings like a normal person - he says “Good.” (There are walls around his heart, and they are wrapped in thorns.) “Good. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

Both of them breathe together, and it’s simultaneously too intimate and too distant. The last time they spoke - the last time Brock heard this voice there were tears in his eyes and bile in his mouth and ashes all over the runway -

“Good,” he says stupidly, and Jose laughs.

It’s a brittle sort of laugh, but Brock still wishes to God he hadn’t heard it. Jose’s laugh is something deadly, a poison-tipped arrow straight to the heart.

“Just watching the show tonight, girl. Thought I’d give you a call.”

“Okay.” Brock hesitates to respond, certain he’s going to fuck this up. It’s the first time in months he’s got Jose on the phone; fucking it all up is the only possible option.

“It’s a trip, hey, seeing it on TV. Feels like I’m watching someone else.”

“Yeah,” Brock says. Fuck, he’s really cementing those accusations of having no personality. Say something. Say something.

But he doesn’t. There is too much unsaid between them, all those words stacking up behind Brock’s teeth when he tries to speak, his throat when he tries to swallow. He’s imagined this conversation too many times to count, and now all he can do is listen in silence to the sound of Jose’s breathing, still audible over the music that’s pulsing like a heartbeat in another room.

“Loved you on Untucked, making all them faces. Must’ve been hard listenin’ to me go off in the background, feelin’ so embarrassed.”

“I wasn’t –“

“Gotta build a pillow fort to hide in or some shit. Real hilarious. Real comedy queen.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Brock interrupts, but now that he thinks about it – he can see how it might have looked that way. And he knows Jose was feeling sensitive already about that night, can remember the moment afterwards in his hotel room (“I wanna be better than that,” and his hand on Jose’s throat, sparks flying from their lips, his tongue -)

Stop.

He can’t think about that right now.

“Whatever,” Jose says at last. He sounds exhausted. “I’m not coming for you. Sorry, I’m working too much, not sleeping. You know how we do. I’m kinda fading out.”

He sighs, and Brock swears he can feel the ghost of that sigh against his neck. It raises goosebumps all up the length of his arms, his shoulder blades.

“Where are you?”

“NYC, baby. Where you at?”

Brock almost doesn’t want to tell him. “Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.”

“The fuck - that ain’t a real place.”

“Swear to God. It’s in Canada.”

“Ha, now that explains it. Didn’t know you got cell service up there, in your igloos or whatever.”

“You are such a dick.”

“Don’t lie, girl, we know you love -” Jose stops himself. Brock can basically hear the smile sliding off his face.

He’d forgotten how easy it was, when it was just the two of them. Forgotten how fast he could fall.

“Anyway, um.” Jose clears his throat. “I called because of all this online shit – I shoulda said before – it ain’t me. I didn’t want you to think - cuz I’m not postin’ shit right now, and –"

“Wait. What?”

“Yeah, I shoulda told you sooner. My manager’s paying someone for it, some toddler or something, right? I know we’re s’posed to be all nasty for the fans but it just –“

“It’s not me either,” Brock says quickly. “Someone else is writing it.”

There’s a short silence on the other end of the line. Then Jose laughs again, warm and real this time (Brock has to put out a hand to steady himself even though he’s lying down.)

“Girl, what? I didn’t know that! That’s crazy! Meanwhile I’m feeling so – all these queens tonight were reading me for it, and I was like ‘bitch, mind your business!’ This is some kinda twisted.”

Brock laughs too, helplessly. This whole situation is so fucking ridiculous, it’s unbelievable.

He’s riding the high of Jose’s laughter, feeling like he can breathe for the first time in months, and that’s the only reason he says: “It’s good to hear your voice.”

Jose stops laughing.

There is silence again, only broken by the bass thumping in the background. Brock thinks about how quickly he could be in New York if he caught a standby flight. If Jose asked him -

Say something, Brock. Fuck’s sake, say something.

“Thought you’d’ve heard enough of it by now.” Jose’s gone a bit quiet. Brock wonders if he has that crease on his forehead that means he’s upset. Wishes he could smooth it away with the pad of his thumb.

“That will never happen.” He can’t imagine a world where that voice doesn’t do something to him, doesn’t wake up some hidden place that hasn’t seen sunshine in years. “Jose -”

The music suddenly gets louder, and there’s another voice in the background. Jose says something that Brock can’t quite hear. Someone else laughs.

“Shit, girl, I gotta go. You be good now. I’ll -“ Jose cuts himself off abruptly. Brock waits. Waits. The rest of the sentence never comes, but Jose doesn’t hang up. Brock hears him swear under his breath.

It shouldn’t be like this, Brock wants to scream into the phone. You knew me. You knew me once. You left glitter on my pillow.

“Can I call you?” he asks instead. “Later. Or whenever. Just to –” He suddenly doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“To?”

“Plan,” is the first word that comes into his head. “Plan - for that episode. Like, how we’re going to react. What we should say.”

“Oh.” Jose takes a deep breath. “Sure, yeah. I gotta go, Brock. You – call me later.”

“Okay. Um. Try to get some sleep.”

“Not much chance of that, girl. But what ya gonna do?”

The call ends. Brock closes his eyes.

The sudden silence feels heavy on his chest, like one of those weighted blankets Nina’s always telling him to get. He puts his phone to the side. With his eyes closed he can still see that back-room in the club, Jose taking off his lashes, rolling his shoulders. Brock can almost feel sore muscles beneath his hands, and his fingers twitch against his sheets.

Oh if you were mine.

That’s from a song, right? He can’t remember which one, but it runs in his head as he doesn’t sleep, over and over like a pinwheel spinning.

(And Brock doesn’t know it now, can’t feel it, but somewhere in the walls he’s built, a crack is starting to form.

It spreads through his foundation, shifting it just slightly. Not enough that anyone would notice.

Not yet.)

* * *

The night after Farm to Runway, Brooke is wired and awake and trying unsuccessfully to get into a trashy thriller that her mom leant her - when there’s a knock at her door.

She doesn’t know what to expect when she opens it. Maybe a P.A. with a note from Vee, maybe a producer about to institute a strict “one-cocktail-per-Untucked” limit.

She’s not expecting Vanessa herself, wearing shorts and a loose t-shirt, looking more nervous than Brooke’s ever seen her.

“Hey mama. Can I come in?”

“Uh -”

Behind Vanjie, a little baby-lesbian with a badass haircut and Harry Potter glasses gives a short nod.

“This is Maya, she’s real sweet, she said we got five minutes. Bye Maya!” Vanjie steps through Brooke’s doorway, shutting it behind her.

“Holy shit.” Brooke just stares at her for a moment. “You’re breaking all the rules now, huh.”

“Yeah, just call me muthafucking Willam. This your digs, huh? Shoulda known you’d be crazy tidy. Bitch, you even got shit hanging in the closet? GIRL. You hang up your t-shirts? My Abuela woulda loved you, for real.”

The hyperactive and adorable narration isn’t totally abnormal for Vanjie and yet - something about it strikes Brooke as odd tonight. Uneasy.

“So - you came here to check out my room?”

“Nah, I just. Thought I’d come see ya. Didn’t get much chance to - to -” Vanjie’s hands flutter through the air, restlessly. “Wanted to talk in the van but you know, with Big Silky around, there’s not much chance of that.”

“Okay…” Brooke sits down on the edge of her bed. Vanjie can’t seem to stop moving, shifting from one foot to the other. “What did you want to talk about?”

“All that, you know, shit this evening.” The corner of Vanjie’s mouth twitches up. “Thought maybe you’d be feeling some kinda way about it. About me.”

So that’s what this is. Brooke follows the movement of Vanjie’s hands - pulling at a sleeve, ruffling her hair, twisting together like rope.

“I don’t -”

“Don’t say nothing, lemme finish. I don’t know why it got so real tonight, fucking Yvie coming for me - but I’m not getting into it again, she has her own shit to deal with and we’re gonna - we’ll be good. But I clocked the way you were looking at me, there was a moment there - and I thought I had to tell you, you know, that I don’t do that shit on the regular. That’s not me.”

“Wait - you don’t have to apologize or -”

“I don’t wanna be that bitch. You know, I’ve been that bitch before, and I wanna be better than that.”

“Vanjie,” Brooke stands back up, stepping across the room and stopping the movements of Vanjie’s hands with her own.

Vanjie immediately looks up at her, tilting her jaw back like it’s a challenge.

Her fingers are warm. They slide gently against Brooke’s.

“I like the way you are,” Brooke says, and Vanjie does that odd, slanted smile that Brooke’s seen so many times in the werkroom, the one that makes something spark and stutter in Brooke’s chest.

“Who wouldn’t? I mean -” Vanjie does a little shimmy but doesn’t let go of Brooke’s hands. And self-deprecating is not really something Brooke thought she’d see in this queen, but that’s what this feels like. Whether the girl is shimmying or not.

“Yes, we all know you’re fucking gorgeous. But I don’t just mean - that.” Brooke’s throat is getting tight, and she flashes back to her conversation with Ru that afternoon (talking about serious things always makes me cry. It gives me anxiety just thinking about it.)

Fuck. Congrats Brooke on being the whitest person in Drag Race herstory.

“I mean. I like the way you are.” Brooke releases a breath, and if she gets teary-eyed now she’s going to throw herself off the balcony. She removes one hand from Vanjie’s grasp, lifts it to the side of Vanjie’s face. “Like, all of it.”

Something creases between Vanjie’s brows, a tiny flicker of pain that is instantly smoothed over. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then she leans her head into Brooke’s palm.

“Bitch, why your hands so soft?” Vanessa murmurs, and Brooke drags her other hand up over Vanjie’s throat, and wishes that the world outside that closed door could just go away for one night. Just give them one night alone together, give Brooke one night to touch Vanjie every where she wants to, memorize the freckles on her hips and the ticklish places on her knees and suck her off and hold her close and kiss her until she was drunk with it, kiss her until

- you know what, fuck it.

Brooke hauls Vanjie up, off the ground and into her arms. Vanjie laughs low and rough as she wraps her legs around Brooke’s hips, and Brooke walks them backwards until Vanjie is pressed against the hotel room wall and they are kissing, mouths open and hot and wet.

When their hips grind together, it feels like a gun going off. Brooke’s knees are shaking already.

Vanjie uses her tongue like it’s a weapon, kisses as demanding as her personality, and Brooke’s never felt like this, never. This isn’t a quick peck in the werkroom or backstage lounge, this is finally getting Vanjie where Brooke wants her, finally getting her alone.

“Will you fuck me?” Vanjie pulls back, eyes dazed and lips swollen. “I want you to, I been thinking about it -”

“Oh my god,” Brooke whispers, because yes to that, right now that is the only thing she wants in the whole world.

Vanjie’s hands are on Brooke’s t-shirt, pushing it up as she scrapes her teeth along the edge of Brooke’s jaw. Brooke frees one of her hands to fist it in Vanjie’s hair, tilting her head back so their mouths meet again.

“You gotta,” Vanjie says, “Please. I can’t stop wanting it.”

“Okay.” Brooke’s beyond reason at this point, can’t think about anything except the warm body writhing against hers and how to get them both naked as soon as fucking possible.

A knock at the door makes them both freeze.

Their eyes meet in horror - like they’re teenagers whose parents have come home too early - before the absurdity of the situation hits them both at the same time, and they start giggling like idiots.

“Start the clock, bitch!” Vanjie yells, and Brooke snorts with laughter, and then they’re kissing again, smiling against each other’s lips. Brooke waits for reality to kick in, hoping it will take its time.

But it doesn’t (the knock at the door comes again, slightly more insistent.)

“Damn it. Okay. Okay. Just -” Brooke reluctantly lowers Vanjie to the floor, both of them moaning at the delicious slide of contact between their bodies. “I’m not getting us kicked off Drag Race.”

“It’d be worth it, baby,” Vanjie purrs, batting her eyelashes until Brooke has no choice but to lean down and kiss her again, hands winding in her hair, Christ, she tastes like peppermint and cream soda and -

“Wait. Okay.” Brooke drops her hands, fists clenching. “No, don’t look at me like that. I can’t - “

“Like this?” Vanessa grins all sly and sexy up at her.

“Yes, like -” Brooke has to take a few steps backwards, putting some distance between them while she can.

“Ugh, you’re a monster, it’s not fair.” Vanjie straightens up her shirt, tries to pat her hair into something less obvious. “You get to look so fine, and send me packing?”

“It’ll be worth it,” Brooke says, not certain what she’s talking about. Worth the wait? Worth the prize? Worth a month in a sparkly warzone shooting glances at each other over sewing machines? “When I win, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Ha! Fuck that, Mary, you just try it. You can use some of my money to wipe your tears.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a dick.” Brooke shakes her head, and Vanjie winks.

“Yeah, well, you know you love it.” She crosses to the door. “Night night Brooky Poo.”

Brooke stares after her long after she’s gone, knees still shaking.

Mouth still sweet as peppermint.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #angst #canon compliant #smut #eventual happy ending #elastic heart #mia ugly #conceit welcome #submission #s11 #on set fic

82 notes · View notes

anasuisprisonwife · 5 years ago

Note

Oh same hhh i hated her before she seems bitchy and looks like she's ready to attack ren at any time but turns out she's just tired shr needs those extra mons man 😔😔😔 tokyo is too expensive for a single lady to live in and also i think her confidant has a lot of benefit (eat shit morgana im not gonna sleeb) but oof I also really liked Takemi since im a hoe for goths and her legs are prettyy😩😩😩 but i ended up picking kawakami for the valentines date she's bold i like it uwu 1/2

2/2 Im still waiting for p5r and manage to dodge all the spoilers (except the song of course hhh) but i dont think I’ll be able to play it later (i only manage to get a copy of p5 like a year later). Abba probably shits on my music choices (i listen to bubblegum pop for nostalgia and he hates it hhh) but he is a slut for anything jazzy, slow and bossa nova hhh also i hope you dont mind i keep being an anon here despite us being mutuals im too shy to come out yet 😔😔😔😔

this answer turned out long af so im shortening it here lmao

sexiness aside, imma Big Fan of kawakami’s level 10 confidant power????? in my opinion it’s the most helpful one to have in the game. omg so since u actually a fan of kawakami here’s a pic of me and my boyfriend omg lowkey lowkey we dressed up as joker and kawakami for san diego comic con we even had morgana and u can see my bf’s golden wind pin that he waited in line for 2 hrs for lmaooooo

OOf takemi’s legs. she also has one of the sexiest songs. i listen 2 it a lot nglWhen persona 5r comes out 4 the western peeps we gonna have 2 have a long talk anon.

Abbacchio usually can’t stand your tastes in music, but if you show him that you’re willing to give his music tastes a good listen, (u gonna be listenin 2 opera, anon) he’ll be willing to listen to whatever you play for him, but he won’t admit how catchy some of your favorite songs are…

i hope this isn’t too personal, but sometimes i imagine abbacchio trying to hide his taste in opera music from me, but i steal his headphones and show him that i love the sound of the full orchestra (i was a marching band bitch n i can’t help myself 2 some classical music)then i give him slow sex along to his fav tunes

also take ur time anon i want u to feel as comfortable as possible here! there’s no rush or pressure to reveal urself to me. i already love talkin 2 u tho hehe

#confession time

3 notes · View notes

allegories-astray · 5 years ago

Text

Condescending

by Markus Enns

Josh and Thomas weren’t exactly a couple of friends that you’d expect. Not only did Josh’s professional attire and rather serious demeanour contrast that of Thomas’ nonchalant tendencies, the two of them just never saw eye to eye on anything. That is except for their unified love for sex, money, of drugs; though the pair really only saw interest in the latter two.

“Are you f****** kiddin’ me, man?” Josh addressed Thomas, as he opened the car door and took a strong step in. “I’m outside doing all the damn work and you’re sittin’ your ass in here listenin’ to this s***?”

Thomas had been singing along to the song on the radio playing his air guitar at a concert in front of the raging audience he had been imagining. It was one of those 90’s old-school hip-hop song that everyone knows but can never remember the name.

“Umm, eh...” Thomas stuttered as he fixed himself on the car seat and pulled down his floral Hawaiian button-up shirt. He had been rudely interrupted and his imaginative concert was ruined.

Josh, being the more formal of the two, interjected again in the same annoyed tone as before.

“And what the hell are you wearin’, man? We’re supposed to be professionals, ya? You look more like a fun uncle than a f****** drug dealer.”

The two have been partners for just about a year and Thomas believed that Josh would just get over how informal he is. Thomas wasn’t going to alter the way he expresses himself through clothes or music preference just because of Josh, a man who he had been literally appointed with through the governorship of the boss, didn’t like it.

“Okay, mate, listen to me, ya? It’s been not even ten seconds since you brought your ass into this car and you haven’t stopped to catch a f****** breath. Just chill man! And why are ya callin’ this song trash? This s*** is fire!”

Josh looked in the rear-view mirror and put the car into reverse as he settled down. Though not completely content, he partially conceded his initial anger and asked Thomas in a more calm voice.

“Just do something right and do me a solid by putting on some ACDC or something. Something a little more,” he paused until he finished backing up the car. “A little more engaging than whatever the hell this is,” he finished.

Thomas abided with a cheap grin on his face and fired up Josh’s mixtape that they kept on the side door. The first song was always ACDC’s Thunderstruck. The song started playing.

“AC- Deez nuts.”

“Ya, real mature, Tom. Just change the damn song.”

“Ya, ya, if it will shut your dumb ass up for a damn second I’ll be right on it Mr Joshua “Man of the Year” Lee. But I ain’t puttin’ on any ACDC bull-”

“For the love of God, Tom, just turn off this f****** radio!” Josh interrupted Tom again.

Maybe that was Josh’s vendetta against Tom. He hated his style so much that interrupting him every time he wanted to express himself was like therapy for him.

An extended period of silence emerged while the pair continued down the road. They eventually made it onto the highway where Thomas interrupted Josh. Payback, perhaps.

“What do you call a snobby criminal?” Tom asked with a smile and jolly tone

“Oh for the love of God just shut the f-”

“What do you call a snobby criminal?” Tom now deliberately shouted towards Josh before he could finish his sentence.

Josh exhaled before, utilizing his self-diagnosed genius mind, he replied confidently.

“I don’t know. Condescending or something?”

Tom burst into uncontrollable laughter. It sounded more like a pack of hyenas crying rather than an Aussie man laughing in hysterics. Tom slightly glanced over at his partner and answered his rhetorical joke with “Joshua Lee, dumbass.”

Josh truly hadn’t expected that answer. He’s a logic and rational type of guy; joking never really appealed to him but this joke seemed to make him crack

“Alright, that was a good one, wise guy, but if ya want a real joke just look in the mirror.”

...

[Extend and finish the story by considering one (or more) the following idea(s):]

1. Who is the boss?

-Why has he hired the two men?

2. What is the purpose of Josh and Thomas’s vocation/job?

-Is it justified or outright wrong?

3. Do the two men develop a friendship?

-Why or why not?

[Or extend and finish the story by using one (or more) of your own idea(s):]

1 note · View note

starboyholland · 7 years ago

Text

Messy Drunk pt 3

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: you and Fionn pine over eachother for far too long and are reaping no benefits until Fionn finally snaps.

Requested: yes!!

It was 2:37 a.m. and you had been trying to sleep for hours now. You'd tossed and turned, adjusted your blankets, and flipped your pillows to the cool side so often that there was no longer any sides left to offer cool relief to your face. You reached for your phone blindly, wrapping your fingers around the familiar shape and squinting as the light bore shamelessly into your eyes. You sat up, beginning to scroll through your notifications.

There was nothing from Fionn. Usually, Fionn messaged you at least a few times a day. Since the morning after Harry's party, all you'd received was dead, heavy silence.

You couldn't help but wonder what you had done to deserve the silent treatment. You weren't the one that had confessed you wanted more than a friendship and then acted like it never happened. You didn't know what you could possibly text to bridge the widening gap between you. Not knowing what came over you, all your inhibitions suddenly fled your body, and you pressed the familiar call button that was next to Fionn's name in his contact.

The phone rang agonizingly slow, the tone seeming to mock you before suddenly the line connected and you felt your breath catch in your throat when Fionn's voice wafted from your phone speakers to your ears. "Heyy, YN, 'm s' glad ya called- thought you weren't goin' t' talk to me for a long time, because of what I said the other night- when I said I wanted to make love to ya-" He was drunk. You didn't know why you heart sank at the realization you weren't going to be able to have a normal conversation. You figured it had something to do with the fact that over the time you'd spent not talking to Fionn, you'd had time to reflect and realize that you probably (definitely) liked your friend as more than a friend. The phone was snatched away from Fionn before you had a chance to say anything at all, now Harry's voice filled the void, straining to talk over the loud background noises, country music and loud talking, the sound of shuffling feet and glasses clinking all at once like a chaotic symphony. "Hi, love," "Hey, Harry, you guys partying hard?" You were teasing but part of you was a little tender at not being invited out like you normally were. "He dragged us out to some shit country bar, and now he's drunk off his ass. He's been miserable, YN, the only thing he's consumed since he dropped you off at home is vodka-" "Excuse me, I've been doing shots, Har, don't make me sound effeminate," you could hear Fionn yelling in the background and some fumbling over the phone, Harry scolding Fionn and refusing to let him embarrass himself on the phone. Harry said something else about how alcohol had no tie to how masculine anyone was, and you had to smile at your friend, glad he was there to look after your friend- well, friend and crush, and love interest, you figured.

"He's out here makin' a fool 'f 'himself, says 'e can't go home 'cause everything there reminds 'im of ya," You sighed. "Why won't he just tell me how he feels, or at least what he's thinking, then? Until now I had no idea he even remembered hitting on me drunk at that party, or if he really felt that way," Harry paused, you could hear him telling Fionn to get off of something or other before he got hurt and you could only imagine the shenanigans that he was getting into. Maybe he was flirting with other girls just like he'd flirted with you. You tried to banish the thought because even thinking about Fionn hitting on other girls when you were just starting to think of him as more than a friend made you queasy. "Love, he's crying again, do you want to talk to him? I can't get him to come down from the table and the bartenders here are getting rather annoyed with him," you agreed quietly, and heard a brief moment with no voices, before Fionns voice flooded your senses. "Harry says I've got to get down, I don't want to get down- I just want to be high," with that your friend giggled and you hated to have to be the voice of reason that would shut down his drunken fun. You could hear in his voice that he had indeed been crying at least a little bit and you hated the thought of your best friend crying on your account. "Are you okay, Finn?" He replied quickly with no inhibitions:

"I like it when you call me Finn, makes me feel special, I like it when you call me love, too, you only call me nice names like that when we're drunk, though," he spoke into the phone, you could hear Harry coaxing him to do something in the background. "Alright, love, just listen to Harry and let him get you home safe, okay?" He whined your name and you could nearly see him throwing his head back, always one for the dramatics. "But I want to sleep with you again, my bed feels like shit without you, that's why I'm out s' late, I can't sleep anymore, and I look like a damn lightweight out 'ere b'cause I can't eat and I can't talk t' ye because I'm too nervous around you when 'm sober nowadays," his long, run-on sentence had you feeling slightly jarred, yet warm at the same time. "Finn, you don't mean that you're just drunk, let Harry get you a snack when you get home and you'll sleep like a baby-" "No, YN, you're not listenin' t' me! I fucking love you, YN, and I can't even talk t' you anymore because I can't keep secrets from you and all I do is mope around and I'm only happy after I've had some shots and I can stop pretending not to be in love with you-"

You could hear his voice growing slightly frantic and you rushed to calm him down in a soothing voice. "Finn, can you please tell me this when you're sober, I think I like you but-" "Ya think? YN I just told ye that I'm in goddamn love with ye- and ya can't even tell me ye flat out like me?" The line went completely dead before you could even get a syllable out of your mouth, the monotone noise haunting your ears.

Unable to sleep, Fionn raced through your mind faster than ever before, his broken voice, his drunken giggles, his confession of being in love with you and his heartbroken tone after you tried to tell him how you felt. You tried and tried to send him a text that would convey how you felt but nothing you typed felt good enough so you settled for texting Harry, who you correctly assumed was with Fionn still. You asked how he was and Harry replied that your mutual friend would be fine besides a hangover and bruised pride. You got up the nerve to ask if Harry believed Fionn's feelings were genuine, or if he was just allowing the alcohol to create an illusion. Harry replied that he thought you should trust your feelings, and that things really couldn't get much worse then they were now. Harry then reported that Fionn had now locked himself in Harry's bathroom to cry. The two of you agreed over text to call it a night and you found yourself finally falling asleep as the sun was coming up. When you finally awoke it was mid-day and you only had a few texts, thankfully among those in your inbox sat one from Harry, as well as one from Fionn. +Fionn: so I guess we should probably talk about whatever this is before I get alcohol poisoning +Harry: TALK TO HIM!!!!!!! HE LIKES YOU!!!!!!!! JUST TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL!!!!!!!! GOOD LUCK!!!!

You responded an eye rolling emoji to Harry's, knowing it was definitely the easier of the two messages to answer. You then shuffled around your phone to text Finn back. You created and deleted multiple drafts before finally sending one. +YN: yeah that might be good, the doctors will not view your drinking habits as kindly as a bartender... +Fionn: sorry for hanging up on you last night all of a sudden I guess I'm just turning into more and more of a messy drunk, as you say +YN: it's okay, are you free today? We could talk over hangover food? +Fionn: that sounds amazing, I'll be over with drive thru food if you want to get take-out delivered to yours?? +YN: I'll see you soon then, drive safe!!! +Fionn: anything for you, see you soon YN You'd thought you were ready for Fionn to walk through your door, you'd never cared how you looked in front of Fionn before and you couldn't fathom why all of a sudden you would care even slightly more now. You put on a cute pair of sweats and made yourself look as though you'd slept soundly though the previous night even though both you and Fionn knew neither of you had. Fionn had had a key to your apartment for as long as you'd had one, he almost contemplated moving in with you but had decided against it at the time. Now thinking back on it you wondered if he'd had feelings for you way back then. You shouldn't have jumped in surprise when your door gently swung open with the rustling of plastic bags, you were used to Fionn coming in this way, it happened at least once a week when Fionn wasn't out working on some project. Fionn noticed and cringed slightly, but pretended he didn't, looking down to take off his shoes while trying to balance the weight of the plastic shopping bags on his arms. "Oh, here, let me help, I can grab some-"

You hopped up quickly from the couch and over the back of it to get to Fionn. The second your hand touched his arm, you both suddenly stopped what you were doing for just a millisecond, distracted by the obvious feelings you both got from being in contact, a product of the long time apart paired with the tension between you. The pause wasn't long, just long enough for Fionn's voice to halt in the middle of his sentence. "Oh no I've got-" He trailed off. You both looked up at each other from what you were doing, and Fionn hung his head, lifting up one arm with the least amount of groceries and using his hand to comb back his hair firmly. He continued to talk, your arms falling limply at your sides. "I've really fucked things up, 'aven't I?" He exhaled heavily and you were quick to insist that he hadn't, but you knew your voice sounded weak and you weren't even sure of your own words. You didn't believe Fionn had ruined everything, but you knew things couldn't go back to being just the way they were before and for a moment that terrified you before you reminded yourself that you wanted things to change. Fionn had made you aware of your feelings for him unknowingly, and now you had to find the courage to tell him. "No, I mean things are different now- we're being all weird, trying to act like I didn't tell you that I loved you last night drunk over the phone, and that a few nights before I didn't hit on you, fuck, YN, I'm sorry-" You tried to catch a break in his words to speak your mind but Fionn shook his head desperately. "No, YN, please let me say this while I have the nerve. I know you don't feel the same way, I just got a little sore over it for some reason and you know me, I can't keep anything in for shit with you- especially not when I'm drunk. You have every right not to want to be friends anymore, you don't have to have me over and I can give you back my key and-" "Finn, shut up," you couldn't help but see him for a moment the way that you did before any of the events leading to this moment had even begun. You saw your friend looking tired and defeated and you hated it. You didn't know how to possibly make it better instantly so you just hugged him, your arms wrapping around his neck. The two of you were no strangers to this position and it felt more natural than anything else between the two of you in the last few days. "Love, just stop for a minuet, okay," you spoke softly Fionn was terrified that this was some kind of goodbye. Within a second, all of the bags were on the floor and Fionn's arms were wrapped around you. "You only call me that when-" He started to speak but you only hugged him tighter, it was effective in getting him to halt his seemingly constant stream of words. "Finn, I've been wanting to call you love when we were both sober for longer than I even knew. I'm not mad, I don't want you to leave," "But last night-" "Fuck last night, I would have told you how I felt, I was just scared it was the drinks talking again but I talked to Harry and I thought about it and damn it, Finn, I think I love you," Fionn had never, ever thought he'd hear those beautiful words fall from your mouth, at least not directed at him. He felt as though he was in some sort of fever dream and even if he was, he'd rather sleep forever than ever leave this moment. Now things were moving at lightning speed and neither of you seemed to care.

"Finn, I don't want you to give me the key back, I want you to stay as long as you can because I've missed you like crazy," And with that Fionn released you slightly from his grip, his hands hanging on your hips, your own remaining around his neck. "Can I kiss you? Is it too soon, you can say n-" and with that you brought your hands to either sides of his face and you kissed him. It took him no time at all to respond and neither of you pulled away until you were in need of air with butterflies in your stomachs and your lips feeling purely electric.

"I love you, YN, I have for such a long time, told Harry that last night while I was cryin' like a baby, he told me I'd better tell you that, I'm so fuckin' glad I did," "Me too, my love," And that was that. The two of you broke apart and began to set up your evening as always, but this time it felt better than ever. Little did either of you know, Harry figured this had happened and was doing a victory lap around his apartment at his success as matchmaker.

140 notes · View notes

islareeveswriting · 7 years ago

Text

World of Our Own | Harry Styles Uni AU | Chapter 2

PREVIOUS | NEXT

STORY PAGE HERE

LISTEN TO Here Alessia Cara I'm sorry if I seem uninterested Or I'm not listenin' or I'm indifferent Truly, I ain't got no business here But since my friends are here I just came to kick it but really I would rather be at home all by myself not in this room With people who don't even care about my well-being I don't dance, don't ask, I don't need a boyfriend So you can go back, please enjoy your party

INSTAGRAMS

Word Count 7.5k

Normally people had no problem speaking to her, she prided herself on being someone who was easy to talk to, she looked friendly, she was friendly. It wasn’t out of line for her to think she was just one of those people that others knew they could talk to. She’d been told by enough people throughout her life, she liked it about herself, that people came to her with problems or just to talk without worrying about what she might think of them. So the fact Harry remained near on silent in her presence was odd to her and she found herself overthinking it, something she didn’t do very often for the exact reason she was remembering then. It panicked her.

In the, nearly, two weeks since she’d arrived, Rae could probably count on her fingers the amount of conversations she’d had with Harry. Maybe even on just one hand. She couldn’t work out his quietness and it bugged her somewhat. Not because she wanted him to spill his guts to her, but because it made her feel uneasy.

Yellow, fading lights, illuminated the kitchen of the house Rae found herself in. People flitted in and out to refill their drinks or to make their way out to the garden, occasionally they stayed to chat to someone they bumped into, but mostly people left as quickly as they came in.

Apart from Rae and Harry.

They’d been stood there for a good half an hour now. They hadn’t said much to each other, but it wasn’t awkward. Even so Rae found herself looking down in her cup, filled with vodka and lemonade (the only thing on offer that she liked the sound of), and twisting it around in her fingers in attempt to make it appear she wasn’t racking her brain, trying to find something to say to Harry.

Her first week of university had been fairly uneventful. She’d had a few lectures and seminars, she was working on her first project and enjoying it. A self portrait project. It was a subject she’d never looked at in any depth before, herself. Rae always took in faces, the structure of them, their eyes, the way their jaw cornered into their necks. But she’d never taken time to really take her own face and features in. Now she was doing it she found it quite interesting and weirdly enjoyed discovering the best way to shoot herself.

Other than that, the whole university experience was going almost exactly how she’d imagined it in her head. She’d been on a few nights out with people she met on her course, every one of them thinking it equally bizarre and cool that she was living with a bunch of second year boys. Her nights out had ended, so far, by about 2 a.m, when she snuck back into the house as quietly as she could not to disturb anyone, but always finding Harry still awake watching his politics show.

Every night she’d pop her head around the door and say goodnight, and he’d return the gesture before she wandered up to bed. Every time she’d gotten into bed, flicked the bedside lamp off, and then she’d hear Harry taking the steps up to his top floor bedroom. Rae had laid there one night, after a few too many Jaeger Bombs, wondering if Harry was actually waiting up for her. She literally laughed at herself, out loud, as soon as the thought entered her mind.

Of course he wasn’t, he just liked the politics show.

She’d walked in from university that evening, soaked from rain that she hadn’t anticipated when grabbing her leather jacket from the bannister, rather than her hooded coat from her wardrobe. The boy’s had laughed at her ignorance to how quickly British weather could change. She’d forgotten in the years she’d been away, and no one had reminded her. Even Harry had chuckled as she’d moped into the kitchen looking like a drowned rat, teeth chattering. She asked if they could put the heating on for an hour through shivers and, to her surprise, Harry was the one to stand from the table and turn it on, though he didn’t say anything else much to her, apart from a quiet thanks when she handed him one of the three mugs of tea she’d made.

It was then that Niall mentioned the party. Rae hadn’t realised he was asking her along at first and when she did she was a little unsure she’d be welcome, but Niall had assured anyone was welcome. Of course she wanted to go, Rae wasn’t one to turn down an invite to a party. Parties were rare in the middle of nowhere, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get her fill while she could.

However, as she stood in the kitchen in virtual silence, (if it wasn’t for the booming music that she was more than unfamiliar with) she thought she might have made the wrong decision. She had a black, long sleeved, bodysuit on, the poppers in between her legs meaning she hadn’t yet been to the toilet all night after being informed there was no lock on the door. She’d paired the figure hugging top with her baggy, boyfriend jeans rolled up at the ankle, her dirty, white Converse on her feet. Every other girl was in a dress, or skinny jeans, but either way paired with heels of some variety. Maybe, much to Rae’s displeasure, her sister had been right when she’d said the heeled boots would be a necessity. Rae felt out of place to say the least.

A boy, she assumed was in second year, based on the fact it was a friend of Niall and Louis hosting the party, was stood in front of her talking. She couldn’t say what about, she wasn’t particularly listening. She nodded politely when she thought appropriate, and let her lips curl up slightly when he laughed at a joke he made that she hadn’t heard. The loud music drowned out his voice anyway, even if she’d been interested enough to hear what he was saying, she didn’t think she’d be able to.

Rae didn’t feel like she belonged in that house. Apart from the boy talking to her then, and the boy’s she lived with, no one had so much as said hello. No one cared to try and make her feel welcome and she couldn’t help but feel she’d have had a better night at home on the sofa watching Cars and eating vegemite on toast by the gallon. That was her comfort, and she’d always come back to that.

‘So you want to come and dance?’ The question caught Rae’s attention, and she finally moved her eyes, from the space of kitchen wall behind his head, to his eyes. They were ice blue, and narrowed, a thin smirk gracing his face that made her uncomfortable. She swallowed and tried not to visibly sneer, even though her stomach was tumbling with the beginning of feeling trapped into something.

‘Nah I’m good ta.’ Rae dismissed with the sweetest smile she could muster, lifting her plastic cup to her mouth and taking a sip.

‘Ey? Come on, come and dance with me.’ It was clear the young lad couldn’t believe he was being denied. He had a cocky quality that sat uncomfortably with Rae. She had a feeling he wasn’t used to being told no, and it was obvious he didn’t like it.

Rae didn’t dance at the best of times, sometimes she would, if she was comfortable in the company, but really it just wasn’t her, and nothing about that boy made her want to dance with him. He was built like a brick shit house, as her dad would say (mainly about Rugby League players on a Friday night when the NRL was on), and his neck was thicker than her thigh. He made her cringe, and if she’d been alone in the room with him she knew she’d have felt even more uncomfortable and a little insecure.

‘I said I’m fine thank you.’ Rae spoke sweetly again, biting back the part of her that wanted to shut him down quickly and aggressively.

‘Frigid bitch.’ He spat puffing his chest and moving closer to her. It was almost like he was squaring up to her, and she pushed herself back into the worktop away from him.

‘Sorry?’ Rae asked narrowing her eyes and jutting her chin into her chest, wanting to be as far from him as she could.

‘What did you just call her?’ Harry asked over Rae, his voice like daggers as he spat towards the other boy pushing himself off the counter. Rae couldn’t deny, no matter how forward thinking she liked to think she was, she was glad for Harry’s presence then as he moved his body between her and the other boy. She relaxed behind him as he guided the boy back who was shrinking away now Harry had intervened. Harry seemed to double in size and she felt her breath hitch in her throat as she witnessed it.

‘Harry don’t.’ She pleaded quietly, reaching out for his arm and latching onto it. Harry fell back to her side, still staring relentlessly at the boy whose eyes were fixed on Rae now Harry was out of the way. Harry still seemed like a giant and she was thankful she wasn’t on the receiving end of his glaring eyes. ‘Just go and enjoy your party yeah, I don’t want to dance with you so get lost.’ The boy snorted and shook his head before walking away. ‘What a pleasant guy.’ Rae dropped Harry’s arm and he leaned back against the counter, visibly relaxed from his slightly tensed up state.

‘Yeah, that’s Connor Youngs, he’s a twat.’ Harry mumbled lifting his drink to his mouth. Rae could see his jaw tightly set as he took a mouthful of whatever it was he was drinking.

‘I think I’m gonna go outside for some air, you want to come.’ Rae suggested walking backwards towards the open back door. The cold air was already hitting her and she was trying to prepare for it, knowing nothing would really make her ready to be surrounded by it.

‘I’m alright thanks, it’s freezing out there.’ Harry chuckled and Rae just shrugged, turning on the heel of her converse and stepping out of the door into the small alleyway, down the side of the house, that led to the back garden.

Harry was right it was freezing, and she wondered how the girls that had been passing in and out of the door, bare legged, had been doing it. Even with her covered arms and ankle grazer jeans she shivered enough that the drink in her cup vibrated like an earthquake was afoot.

The garden was lit up by a single spotlight, hung, precariously, from the back wall. It’s clinically bright glow, didn’t even reach the end of the garden. Rae could see the shadow of a shed in the far corner, but other than that, the far of the garden was pitch black. If it was anything like the garden back at her uni house, she thought she might find an unusable BBQ in desperate need of a clean, empty flower pots that could definitely not inhabit flowers and a few sport balls of different varieties, at least one of which would be burst and pointless to keep, but there nonetheless. She was too scared of the dark to wander down and have a look, so she just hummed amusement at the thought of it.

There was a group of people hanging around near the spotlight, a few sat on plastic chairs Rae didn’t think she’d trust, but mostly standing. They were smoking something and the sweeter than tobacco smell told Rae exactly what it was. She knew it would be around somewhere, it was university, and it was Brighton.

It was something she’d dabbled in secretly, not something she was in anyway proud of and something her father would have made her walk the thirty minute water run from paddock to paddock (at the least) if he’d ever found out. She rarely touched it now, but even so the smell made the part of her, that had told her to try it the first time, come back out. She knew all too well what it could make people think they were capable of, and it should have put her right off, but as a sixteen year old the thrill had intrigued her and set her mischievous eyes alight. As an eighteen year old the memory of the intense relaxation she’d personally felt from it, was all she thought about it. She could go in for that.

‘Hey you’re the girl who came with Louis’ lot right?’ She was so entranced by watching the small group that she hadn’t noticed one of them staring at her. Rae looked to the voice, a tall lanky, boy-man. She knew none the males around her were boy’s, but they weren’t men either, maybe they thought they were, but she wasn’t fooled. He had a shaved head, a khaki green bomber jacket on and blue Levi’s rolled up over the tops of his clunky, black, Dr Marten boots. He looked like a throwback from her dad’s Mods and Rockers photos from his youth, and Rae had to chuckle.

‘That would be me.’ She admitted a little shyly, delving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. This was the first unfamiliar person to say something to her, that she didn’t feel offended by, all night, and it threw her a little off kilter.

‘Nice, come join us.’ He smiled brightly, a row of perfect teeth gleaming in the light. ‘Rae right?’ Rae nodded with a half smile, ‘I’m Cal, I share a couple of lectures with Louis.’

‘Oh cool, I don’t think he’s mentioned you.’ Rae admitted, thinking odd Louis might have mentioned her to Cal, but she didn’t know how else he could know her name. She leant against the, probably rotten, wooden garden table next to Cal, the edge of the table digging into her back, just above the waistband of her jeans. The rest of the group glanced at her as she made herself comfortable, but said nothing, sliding back into the conversations they’d left for a second. Rae did the same. Taking each person in for a brief moment, but turning attention quickly back to Cal.

‘No he probably wouldn’t we’re not in the same circles really apart from a few lectures.’ Rae nodded thinking there was something going unsaid, but not questioning it. ‘I hear you’ve come all the way from the land down under.’

‘You heard right.’ Rae smiled looking up to Cal from her height disadvantage. Cal nodded like he was impressed with that fact as he took a drag on the homemade joint laced between his fingers. ‘Can I have a puff on that?’ Rae asked motioning to it.

‘Sure thing, go crazy.’ Cal handed it to her and she lifted it to her mouth, inhaling deeply, the taste taking her straight back to the last time. ‘Keep it, I can get another.’ Cal informed her with another impressed smile.

‘Ta.’

‘So what made you want to move to good ol B’Town for uni?’ He asked, both hands leaning on the table, making it wobble a little, but steadying it with his feet so the pair didn’t tip from it.

‘I used to live down the road, Shoreham, when I was little, was always gonna come back for uni.’ Rae explained for the first time since doing so with the boy’s she lived with. She hadn’t even said it so explicitly to them. She’d been speaking about somewhere local and they all looked at her like she was talking in riddles, then she had to explain she knew the area relatively well. Or at least her parents did and they still spoke of it fondly.

‘Where are you from?’ Rae asked, enjoying getting to know someone new. She wasn’t afraid of new people, she liked getting to know people, and she thought that was where her love of taking people’s portraits came from. She loved people, as far as she was concerned there wasn’t a person alive who was boring, everyone had a story and every story was different. The buzz she got from talking to new people, getting to know people, taking someone’s photo, was addictive and overwhelmed any of the things that made others nervous around people they didn’t know, and made her blind to the signs that people looked to judge a person on.

‘New Forest area.’ Cal hummed bobbing his head from side to side.

‘Nice.’

‘Bit quiet for me.’ Rae laughed and nodded.

‘I know that feeling.’ She admitted thinking back to her very quiet home. She knew what it felt like to be from somewhere isolated and feel suffocated by it. Her nearest neighbour was ten minutes up the road, the nearest town was a forty five minute drive away, and even there you’d only find a butchers, a grocery store, a pub, a doctors and a service station. That was it. If you wanted more you were looking at, at least, an hour and a half drive.

Her best friends were calves she’d raised by the bottle, and the dog her parents bought her when she was old enough to learn responsibility. Of course she had human friends from school, but most lived miles away, literally, hundreds of miles and seeing them was rare. The only party she’d had in the last year was the annual medical centre fundraiser where her and her sister had to sneak out the back with one of her sister’s old school friends to do what she was doing, so openly then, under the shadow of a water tank. She’d had one puff that night and stopped herself. She knew what it could do to people, and that night it had scared her. Now it made her feel alive.

‘Oi Rae,’ Rae looked over her shoulder to Liam. He was poking his head around the back wall of the house, his leather jacket tight across his broad shoulders and rolled up at the arms. He looked like something out of Grease with his slicked back hair, it suited him. ‘What you doing out here? Come in have some fun.’

‘Seems like you’ve been summoned.’ Cal jested with a laugh. Rae chuckled and handed him back the smoke in her fingers.

‘Seems that way.’ She laughed, and stood from the table. ‘Maybe see you later.’ She caught Cal’s eyes again as she spoke, blue splashes in a pool of green looking back to her. She always noticed the colour of someone’s eyes, they were always different too.

‘Yeah see you around.’ Cal smirked watching after as she walked away.

‘Come on jeez, you’re always moaning about the cold and you’re sat out here.’ Liam called wandering slowly back up the alleyway.

‘Alright I’m coming keep your knickers on.’ Rae joked picking up her speed a little. The cold had gone unnoticed by her as she sat with Cal, but now it was back in full force and biting at her.

‘You don’t want to be getting involved with Cal, he’s a twat.’ Liam mumbled as she caught up with him, and he stepped aside to let her step back into the house again. Harry was still stood in the same place she’d left him, but he was joined by two boys she didn’t know, their backs facing Rae. Harry laughed loudly and it took Rae a little by surprise, but made her smile before she turned to Liam again.

‘Is there anyone around here who isn’t a twat?’ She questioned thinking back to Harry’s description of Connor earlier that night.

‘Me.’ Liam shrugged to which Rae simply narrowed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I’m joking, look come join in the shots.’ Rae rolled her eyes and groaned loudly as Liam took her hand. She looked over to Harry one last time as Liam pulled her out of the kitchen. Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes were what she met rather than the side of his face. He was wearing a wide grin, that didn’t falter when they locked glances. The feeling inside her that she was getting used to noticing every time she caught his eye, was more intense then as she kept Liam’s pace down the hallway of the house.

In the living room she was met by a relatively large crowd of people standing around a table. On top a round board spinning and holding an array of shots each one different.

‘That’s dangerous.’ Rae commented with a laugh, watching as people took the shots, of god knows what, that landed in front of them.

‘You were just out there smoking weed.’ Liam sneered and it made her hope none of the other boy’s found out, and reminded her what a bad choice it was and one she swore to herself then not to repeat.

‘I mean I’ll be ill.’ She explained, referring back to the game at hand and trying to distract Liam from her, not quite habit, that clearly disgusted him, but also from the disappointment she felt in herself. Liam winked, taking her hand more firmly, and pulling her through the crowd to the spinning board. Niall was kneeled beside it, a gleeful smile on his face and a cheer escaping his mouth at the sight of Rae.

‘Come on fresher, come play with the big boys.’ Liam shouted, and Rae laughed as the board stopped spinning, a small glass, filled with something that looked too much like black Sambuca for her liking, in her place. Niall laughed loudly as she creased her nose at the sight of it, several other people, aside from her and Niall, picked up a shot, but it was her that Niall clinked his glass of amber coloured liquid with.

‘Sláinte.’ Niall cried loudly and Rae didn’t pretend to know what it meant, but lifted the glass to her mouth flicking it back and swallowing quickly. The bitter taste of aniseed burned all the way down her throat and she grimaced as it did so. A large pair of hands smacking onto her shoulders shook her, half from shock and half from the force, but when she turned to Louis’ friendly face she relaxed.

‘Having fun?’ He asked, his accent stronger and words slurred in his nearly inebriated state. Rae laughed and nodded. ‘Good, everyone seems to like you.’ Rae furrowed her brows, she’d spoken to two people other than her housemates, and only one would have possibly told Louis he liked her. She ignored the comment and turned back to Niall calling her name ready for the next round.

Harry stood in the doorway of the living room, leaning heavily on the door frame, his head a little heavy from the tequila and lime he’d been drinking all night, in quantity a little larger than normal. He watched on, with lazy, hooded eyes, as his friends and housemates fed the new girl a variety of shots. Each one made her wince and cough after swallowing them down. Harry couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as Rae and Niall’s faces mirrored each other with looks of disgust; squinted eyes and crinkled noses. He felt ok stood there then, but when Will and Ben had left him alone in the kitchen, it had taken a fair bit of psyching himself up to wander out to the living room, even with the Dutch courage.

New people were not Harry’s thing. He struggled to make conversation, struggled to know where to start, anxiety would kick in and he’d be so focused on not making a dick of himself that he’d end up just being quiet. He knew how it came across, a little rude, made him look a little snobby but he couldn’t help it. His mother had been trying to get him out of it since he was little, but no matter how she tried, Harry was still shy and reserved until he knew someone better.

Over the, near on, two weeks since Rae had arrived he’d been getting more comfortable. They spoke, she encouraged it out of him, not explicitly but gently, and he didn’t mind so much, the way he normally did when people tried to coax him into something that made him feel awkward. There was something about her that made him feel easy, not quite so worried about what she was thinking about him, because it didn’t feel like she was thinking anything about him apart from what she was hearing him say.

She seemed to get that he was quiet and let him be, let him come to her but at the same time try to keep him going once he started, and that was what really encouraged him into warming to her. He found himself smiling a lot with her, and not in the nervous, please don’t talk to me way, he’d perfected over the years. As he watched on at her, taking shots with their other housemates, and a few other people she didn’t know, he realised she might just have that thing that made people smile. There wasn’t a person around her who didn’t look happy to be there.

When Louis had come into the kitchen and announced he’d found a new housemate, Harry had felt sick. As much as he knew they needed a someone to fill the fifth room so they could actually afford the place, he’d hoped no one would take it and they’d be forced to make it work, cut back on the branded food and the alcohol, and wait until the last possible moment to put the heating on in winter. If it meant Harry didn’t have to go through the throws of meeting someone new, worse than that, living with someone new, he’d make it work.

Harry had gone silent and not really heard Louis tell them that it was a first year girl who was moving over from Australia and whose accommodation had been messed up. From that moment until the morning she’d turned up Harry had begged Louis would get an email, or a call saying she’d changed her mind and had found other arrangements. She never did though, and now Harry was in the process of working up to being himself around her.

He was getting close he could feel it. He didn’t look away when she caught his eye as Liam dragged her through the kitchen, he didn’t flinch when she grabbed his arm, he’d actually considered going outside with her for a second and not shut it down straight away. They were all good signs for Harry. He didn’t like being a shy person, he didn’t feel it was really him, but the anxiety that coursed through him when he forced himself to be open with people straight away was unbearable.

More often than not his hands would shake, he’d be sick and he’d feel on the verge of passing out. Most people got bored of trying with him too quickly to find out what the real Harry was like. His housemates knew he wasn’t cold or boring or quiet, really, his family knew, his friends from home knew, his colleagues from the tea rooms didn’t know and Rae didn’t know, but unlike others she didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t ask why he was so quiet or make jokes about him being dull. He appreciated that.

Harry saw Rae shake her head as Niall lifted another shot to her. Typical Niall tried to insist, and where most people would give into his Irish charm, Rae stood her ground and turned it down again backing out of the circle. Harry saw her stumble a little, she wasn’t drunk, she could hold herself, but she was clearly tipsy and had obviously decided enough was enough. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, for the first time she looked warm rather than chilly with teeth chattering and arms wrapped around herself. Harry noticed the feeling, similar to relief, that he felt with that observation. She squeezed her way out of the room, through the crowd that didn’t really seem to notice as she left the table, though Harry did and watched her as she moved. She was walking towards him, and even though she didn’t seem to have noticed him, Harry’s heartbeat was speeding up.

‘Harry mate.’ Harry turned to Ben’s voice, glancing out the corner of his eye to see Rae leaving the living room and heading for the front door. ‘You not joining in?’

‘Nah not tonight.’ Harry laughed as Ben did the same, both of them thinking back to the last time Harry was on shots and how it had ended rather messily. ‘Might head home in a bit, got heaps of work to do before Monday.’ Harry groaned, making an excuse to get outside and make sure Rae was ok. He’d seen her grab her head as she walked past him in the doorway and he just felt like he should check on her.

‘Fair enough.’ Ben nodded before saying goodnight and pushing his way into the room, taking the space around the spinning board that Rae had not long vacated. Harry downed the last of his drink and put the empty plastic cup on the floor. Normally he might have found a bin but tonight he just wanted to get outside. He might be shy and quiet, but he was still a decent person and he knew he had to check on Rae.

The front door was open and letting cold air in, but it didn’t ready Harry for the bitterness of being outside. His bare arms became instantly dotted with goosebumps as he scanned outside for Rae. There was no one about, and apart from the dull sound of the music from inside and the occasional loud laughter, it was silent. Street lights illuminated the road, bouncing of the roofs of various cars and windows. They were dim but bright enough that Harry spotted Rae walking down the pavement, alone, away from him, a dark silhouette but still recognisable as Rae. She hadn’t got that far, about two houses down, and Harry felt certain she’d stood outside assessing her options for a few moments before beginning her walk away from the party.

‘Where you off to?’ Harry shouted after her and Rae instantly turned clearly a little startled. He took steps towards her and saw her relax as she realised it was him. He wasn’t relaxing though, his heart was beating wildly inside his chest, but he pushed on. She began walking backwards away from him, but slowly enough that he could catch up with her easily.

‘Home.’ Rae informed him confidently, still walking backwards. Harry wished she wouldn’t. Her feet weren’t completely stable and it made him nervous she was going to fall over backwards as she walked narrowly, as if on a tightrope, each foot finding space right behind the other as she moved.

‘Not on your own.’ Harry declared and Rae shook her head.

‘I’ll be fine, go back inside.’ Rae instructed turning back away from him just as he joined her side. The pavement was narrow and they walked closely, slowly.

‘No you can’t walk home on your own, I’ll walk you.’

‘Harry it’s fine.’ Rae told him strongly, ceasing to walk but Harry continued without her, taking steps away from her.

‘Come on, it's freezing.’ Harry instructed cheerfully, not looking back to her, but nodding to the rest of the road ahead of them. Harry heard Rae sigh and the next second she was back at his side, matching his pace easily along the pavement.

The walk back to their house wasn’t long, ten minutes straight down the road the party had been on, left at the end, four streets up and then their road. Every second of it was silent though, and Harry couldn’t help but feel awkward. He got the feeling Rae wasn’t saying anything for his benefit, she’d obviously caught on that he was quite shy by now and didn’t want to push him but Harry couldn’t help but feel, considering he’d offered to walk her home that he should be making more of an effort with getting to know her.

He was going round in circles of talking himself up to saying something, taking a breath to start but choking and going silent again. Everytime, Rae glanced at him and gave him a soft smile, but didn’t say anything before she turned her head back to look at her feet. He felt like an idiot and was internally kicking himself for it.

‘You don’t say much huh?’ Rae commented as Harry rounded the small wall around the tiny patch of grass at the front of their house, heading for the front door. ‘More of a thinker?’ Harry shrugged and he heard Rae giggle. Maybe she wasn’t as patient as Harry had thought. Maybe she was about to get bored of him too. ‘I don’t bite.’

‘It’s not you it’s-’

‘Wow pulling that line already.’ Rae jested and Harry chortled loudly, Rae looking up to him, her eyes wide and sparkling. ‘You have a really lovely smile.’ Rae complemented unabashed, though Harry’s cheeks got warm suddenly and, he was sure, visibly rosier.

‘Thanks.’ Harry mumbled turning his key in the lock and pushing the door open. Rae followed him into the house, kicking her converse off in the hallway as Harry shut the door. ‘I think I’m gonna go straight up.’ Harry announced as she turned to him again. He was fiddling nervously with the keys in his hand and Rae could see frustration on his face when he finally shoved them into his pocket, as if it was the keys he was annoyed at.

‘I’ll follow you.’ She told him and Harry’s eyes went a little wide for a second. ‘Not all the way don’t worry.’ Rae reassured motioning for Harry to take the stairs first. Harry chuckled before turning to the stairs. Rae smiled again at the bright grin that took over his face when he laughed, and how much more at ease he looked when he was smiling. It was like he was a different person and she was intrigued by that. She wanted to get to that person and have that Harry all the time. She liked Harry as he was, he was kind and sweet but she got the feeling the quiet, reserved Harry wasn’t really Harry.

‘Knew I could smell bacon.’ Rae looked from the frying pan, that did indeed contain bacon, over her shoulder to Niall who was padding into the kitchen. He was shirtless, a pair of baggy basketball shorts hanging from his hips loosely. Some might have felt a little rosy cheeked at the sight of someone they hardly knew shirtless that early in the morning, but Rae didn’t think anything of it. Taking in Niall’s tired appearance, his blonde hair wild and untamed, his eyes heavy and resting in deep, dark circles.

‘Your nose has not deceived you young Mr … Niall.’ Rae paused and creased her brow as she thought about, but failed to remember, Niall’s surname. Niall chuckled loudly but quickly stopped and reached for his head. ‘Like that is it?’

‘Hm.’ Niall grumbled filling a glass of water from the tap and downing it quickly. Rae was thankful she wasn’t feeling like that. She had done once in the past, but promised herself it wouldn’t happen again. She hated feeling out of control from alcohol in the first place but the raging headache and nausea was enough to seal the deal. ‘What time did you leave?’ Niall asked taking a seat at the dining table.

‘No idea just left.’ Rae shrugged moving the bacon around in the pan, trying to avoid the spits of fat that fired off it.

‘Was about 1.30.’ Rae turned again to Harry’s voice, who followed the same ritual as Niall grabbing himself a glass and filling it from the tap before sitting down at the table.

‘How do you know?’ Niall questioned, clearly confused. Rae could hear it in his voice but when she turned and looked at the two boy’s sat at the table it was written all over Niall’s face as well.

‘Walked home with her.’ Harry shrugged taking a mouthful of his water.

‘Oh I see.’ Niall winked and Rae chuckled leaning against the worktop and watching as Harry shook his head in response to Niall. ‘Warming up quick to this one ey bud?’

‘Shut up Horan.’ Harry scalded and with that Rae turned back to the pan, concentrating on not letting the bacon stick and taking the eggs from the fridge to add to the pan later, rather than Niall and Harry’s snidey exchange. Rae heard the footsteps coming down the stairs and as she looked to the door Louis and Liam wandered through it. Louis headed straight for her, standing next to her at the hob and looking into the pan.

‘Ooo breakfast, for all of us?’ He asked with hopeful eyes.

‘Nah I've cooked all this food for me.’ Rae chuckled sarcastically.

‘Now, now young Raymond no-’

‘Raymond!?’ Rae interjected Liam’s admonishment sharply, turning to him with wide eyes. ‘Sorry that's not happening you can forget that right now.’ She chastised, but Liam simply chuckled.

‘Well after that reaction it's not going anywhere.’ Louis informed her, and she rolled her eyes, huffing loudly.

‘Should have ignored it.’ Harry mumbled smiling shyly towards her. Rae rolled her eyes again and turned back to the stove ignoring each one of the laughs that followed.

Idle chat bubbled around the kitchen along with the frying bacon that was crisping up nicely. Rae listened in but concentrated on the food she was cooking, adamant nothing would be burnt and breakfast would be perfectly cooked. Though, she did listen in for the end of the conversation. Waiting for a lull before clearing her throat to ask the question she’d been dying to ask for a few days now.

‘Erm I was wondering who's is the guitar.’ Rae asked shyly. She’d noticed it the night she’d arrived but hadn’t wanted to ask about it in case she was overstepping a mark, but now she’d started to get to know her housemates she felt it was ok.

‘Mine.’ Niall’s voice was obviously, easily distinguishable amongst the others. Rae didn’t know why but she’d expected it would be Niall’s. ‘Whys that?’ Rae dithered around it for a moment, humming to herself and bobbing her head from side to side. ‘Oi bud whys that?’

‘Had to leave mine at home, couldn't afford to bring it over with all the other stuff.’ She explained a little timidly, her words falling out so quickly she was almost breathless by the time she got to the end. She couldn’t explain it but she felt like she was under a spotlight and it made her feel uncharacteristically shy. Even though she’d gotten to know them, she didn’t know if what she was hinting at was too much to ask. She missed her guitar, picking it up, and playing something familiar, or setting her mind to something new.

‘Ah you play, I see.’ Niall deduced with an understanding tone. ‘Well pick it up whenever you want, every other fucker does.’ Rae chuckled and thanked him wishing she hadn’t been so shy and stupid about it now that Niall had told her it was ok.

The smile that would onto her face from Niall’s approval to use the guitar stayed with her as she moved around the kitchen. She grabbing a loaf of bread from the side, checking it for mould and preparing it for toast. The last time she’d cooked breakfast for a bunch of men had been the morning before the big yearly muster. Her breakfast always went down a treat with a group of farmers who were about to spend the morning on quad bikes moving a bunch of cows slowly to the yards. She hoped it would be the same for a bunch of hungover uni boys.

‘Rae, your phone’s ringing.’ Rae turned to Louis who had her phone in his hand, outstretched to her. She sighed and took it from him looking at the screen, it was a facetime call so she saw her own face on video as she looked to the screen, her sister’s name rolling along the top. She had a cracked egg in one hand, the leftover white, that hadn’t left the shell fully, running down her fingers. She put the shell on the side, wiping her hand on her leggings and answering the call.

‘Raeeeee.’ Elsie’s voice was bright and far too alive for the time of day Rae was existing in, but she knew it was late evening where her sister was.

‘Alright Es, how’s it going?’ Rae asked moving bacon out of the way for the spreading egg.

‘Good all good, beautiful and sunny in Brissie today.’ Rae rolled her eyes, she knew the only reason her sister was telling her that was because she knew it would make her jealous.

‘Shut up, it’s freezing here.’ Rae grumbled leaning on the worktop with her elbows, bending at the hips, not thinking anything of the four young men sat behind her who were all definitely checking her out as her black yoga pants pulled tight over her backside. ‘Don’t look at me like that it is, like at least minus ten.’ Rae heard a quiet giggle behind her, but she ignored it focusing on her sister.

‘You’re so dramatic it’s ridiculous.’ Elsie scalded with a knowing look. Rae didn’t need to be told. As the youngest sibling she’d found being overdramatic from time to time got you the attention you needed, and she’d run with it even into her teenage years. People called her out on it more now, but it was all fun. ‘What you up to?’

‘Cooking breakfast, burning breakfast.’ Rae grimaced quickly moving the bacon that she noticed getting a little well done.

‘About right.’ Elsie quipped, but moved on quickly. ‘You on your own?’

‘No, why do I need to be?’ Rae asked with a glimmer of concern .

‘No, no just wondered, who you with?’

‘Just housemates.’ Rae shrugged looking to her side where she could just see Harry out of the corner of her, resting back on his chair and looking at the phone in his own hands.

‘Oh the cute guys you were telling me about.’ Elsie winked with a mischievous smile.

‘Nah not them, just the regular ones.’ Elsie cackled as Rae jested playfully.

‘Hey, less of the regular.’ She heard Louis scald and Rae chuckled looking over her shoulder and winking at the boy’s only two of which were looking back at her, Louis and Harry, but the other two with amused smiles on their faces.

‘You know you won’t embarrass me Essie and that was a poor attempt.’ Rae would never not use the nickname her sister had earned from Rae’s own inability to say ‘Elsie’ as a child. It had stuck and the whole family used it more often than not. Elsie nodded knowingly. Of course she knew her little sister was one of the hardest people to embarrass, and she should have thought about it more before trying to make her blush in front of the people, Elsie knew, she was trying to impress a little.

‘Would it be better to call later, have a chat?’ Elise asked, and Rae nodded standing up straight and checking the pan filled with two eggs and heaps of bacon.

‘Yeah probably, if that’s ok? I’ll message you.’ Rae told her quickly busying for plates so that she could get the eggs out of the pan before the yolks went hard. Eggs for Harry and Niall, they liked their eggs runny she’d remembered, Liam didn’t care and Louis was a hard yolk person. Rae didn’t get that but each to their own.

‘Ok, have a good day, enjoy your breakfast, don’t poison them.’ Rae heard chuckles again and she rolled her eyes. Little did the boy’s know it was more of a joke than it sounded. Rae was the best cook in the family, after her dad. Elsie was the one more likely to poison someone, probably with undercooked chicken which she’d served once and then gone on to refuse to cook for her family ever again. ‘Love you.’

‘To the stars and back, bye.’ Rae called in tradition before the conversation ended and Rae put her phone on the side to dish up the first two breakfasts.

‘Your sister?’ Harry asked, his voice still docile but Rae thought more from sleep, or lack of, rather than timidness. It was still husky too, a little rougher than normal and Rae couldn’t help what that tone stirred up inside her.

‘Yeah, she’s nuts sorry.’ Rae laughed pushing away the sensation that Harry’s morning voice had washing over her.

‘S’alright, didn’t know you had any siblings.’ Harry commented looking up to her as she placed a plate in front of him. Harry thanked her quietly and saw her face shut down a little so didn’t say anything else. Rae just nodded and kept quiet. Now wasn’t the time.

Ah, so close but so far ey? What do we think of this Harry and how Rae is with him? What do you think of them both in general and where do you think it’s headed? I’d love to hear all your thoughts I’ve loved all the messages I’ve got so far and they really do make my day so never be a stranger, pop a little ask/message/review over. My ask box is ALWAYS open!

Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs etc so far they really mean a lot!

You know it goes @harrysmeadow and @cuddlemusclestyles have been bae’s as always with this and read it through months after they originally did to help me get the last couple of niggles out of it and they know I love them but I LOVE YOU THANK YOU! Go check them both out because they’re both writing killer fics that deserve all the love and praise and attention!

Enjoy xx

#wooo #world of our own #chapter two #new fic #harry styles #harry styles uni au #harry fic #1dff #harry styles fan fic

99 notes · View notes

aghostpost · 8 years ago

Text

Heatwave Pt. 2 (Frank Castle x Reader)

A/N: Okay here’s part two (part one if you missed it)! Just so there’s no confusion this was only made to be a two part story so please don’t expect/look for a third part or more! Enjoy! ♥

Warning(s): NSFW, language

Word Count: 4088

What a rollercoaster of a visit this was. From arguing with me and my ex to fixing my air conditioner to now showering together. And let’s be real, showering was all we were doing since the space reduced to a quarter its size the moment he stepped in with me. Not to mention shower sex was impractical, uncomfortable as hell, and only happened in movies with the help of some Hollywood magic.

We started from the top and worked our way down, pouring shampoo in his hand. He ducked his head under the stream to wet it and worked a lather into what was now a grown out haircut. He was military, that much was painfully obvious, and when we first met his hair was low to the scalp. Now it had grown a few inches to a pile of short, dark curls. Meanwhile I took my time washing his back, my eyes on every soapy peak and valley of his muscles; if possible I’d do this forever. He turned around to tilt his head back and rinse, so I washed his chest but found it impossible to navigate around the mess of bruises. I didn’t know which were still fresh and tender, which ones didn’t hurt so much anymore. After running his hands through his now suds-free hair he stared at me, noticing my aversion, and took the cloth and soap from me to wash himself. He had less regards for his wounds than I did, washing without a wince as if he was in perfect condition and there wasn’t a wine-colored stain in sight.

It was my turn now. I stood in front of him so he wouldn’t block the shower spray and to also makes thing a bit easier for myself. I was doing a good job at keeping my eyes above the belt but I could only fight this internal struggle for so much longer. I felt a rough hand sweep across the back of my neck, brushing my hair towards my front and out of the way. It was the first time he touched me so softly, I couldn’t help but notice. A touch like that I would have remembered.

The time to battle with temptation was cut down to a third, and I wasn’t winning.

He poured some of my bodywash in the cloth and put it to my back. My eyes closed and I just basked in the moment, not remembering the last time I was touched this way. “I overstepped,” his voice seemingly boomed over the calm sound of the water, snapping me out of my reverie. “You’re right, it was none’a my business. I had no right stickin’ my nose in it.” He took the cloth over my right shoulder and massaged the soap into my skin in circles, his hand firm and applying just the right amount of pressure. “... You gonna say somethin’ to me?”

After one final rinse of my face I was ready to get out. “You need to condition.”

“What?”

I turned around, rinsing my back and handing him my bottle of conditioner. “You shampoo then you condition, unless you want dry hair.” I stepped out and grabbed my robe, leaving the towel I planned to wrap around my head folded by the sink for Frank. Walking to my bedroom I already noticed a difference in the temperature of the apartment, fucking thankfully. I went to the living room to close windows but Frank seemed to have taken care of it already, leaving the fan turned off and on the floor by its respective outlet. I cracked open the door to Landon’s room so it could cool off and noticed this window hadn’t been touched. He hadn’t bothered my son’s space out of respect. I looked around the room and felt myself smile at the drawings and toys strewn about. Never have I felt my heart swell with so much love for anyone, not even Jason. No, the love for my son was something else entirely.

After closing his window I headed back to my room, grabbing my brush before my hair could dry a tangled mess. I watched myself in the mirror, examined every crease and pore in my face. I looked stressed. The only thing I wanted right now was a plate of ribs, maybe two more beers and a nap. That sounded heavenly. The shower stopped running and when I looked to my left I caught Frank walking towards me with his clothes in his hands, towel wrapped around his waist.

“You hungry?”

He shrugged. “I could eat…”

After taking his clothes from him I went to toss them in the washer for a quick clean, since I didn’t tell him to shower just to throw on dirty clothes. And I didn’t have ribs, but there was some chicken I had marinating for me and Landon to have tonight. I got it into the oven and took out a bag of frozen green beans before heading back to my room, where Frank was staring out of the window.

“You givin’ someone a show?”

“Didn’t know you smoked.” He looked pointedly at the pack of cigarettes sitting on the windowsill and the small flower pot full of butts and ashes. There was an orange marigold in there at one point but it died many moons ago.

I shrugged. “Every now and then. I like to go out on the fire escape, clear my head at night.” He looked back out the window, cocking his head to one side. “You concerned about my health now?”

“Just makin’ observations. Gettin’ to know you and all, hm?”

I moved to stand behind him, wondering what he could possibly be looking at. I didn’t have much of a view from here unless I was out on the fire escape, so I couldn’t imagine what was keeping his interest. “What’re you looking at?”

“Not lookin’, listenin’.”

I understood that. I loved listening to the sounds of the city; the horns blaring and sirens passing by, music blasting in passing cars. Hell, even my neighbors arguing just to have makeup sex right after was a treat. My hand found its way to his hair as I successfully redirected his attention. “What do you hear?”

“S’at you tryna see if I, uhhh... conditioned?”

At that I cracked a grin. “Shut up,” I mumbled, fingering his hair for a moment more before dropping my arm, walking back to my dresser for a pair of underwear. I caught my face in the mirror again. I needed a reason to get pretty, to dress up and throw on more than just chapstick and mascara. It seemed like outta nowhere I was too busy with Landon, work, and the rise in temperature to fix myself up; too worried the heat would just melt off any makeup I wore. “How do I look, Frank?”

“Now Y/N, usually when a woman asks that it’s never a simple good or bad, fine, pretty… That’s a very loaded question.” He scratched the back of his head and turned from the window to look at me. “You want a certain answer in particular?”

“Just an honest one. If it’s one thing I know you can do it’s honesty.”

He folded his arms and leaned against the window frame, eyeing me up and down. “Fatigued.”

“Fatigued,” I repeated.

“Like you need a vacation.”

My brows shot up in agreeance, shocked at how spot on he was. “A vacation… Time away from Hell’s Kitchen? Sounds about right.”

“Where would you go?”

I sighed, sitting at the foot of my bed. “Someplace quiet. Not too hot, not too cold, no hustle and bustle of the city. I wanna smell fresh air; look up and see stars at night, not apartment buildings and smog.”

“Yeah? You know, sometimes I have dreams too,” he replied with half a smug grin.

“Such an asshole-”

“-Hey, you wanted honesty, didn’t you?”

“You shooting me down isn’t honest, it’s you being a wiseass.”

He sat on my windowsill and extended his legs before him, crossing them at the ankles and leaning back against the glass. We stared at each other silently before I looked away to focus on keeping my breathing even. “So… Is honesty the only thing I can do?”

“I said it’s one thing that I know for certain.”

“Hm,” he said with a nod to himself. “You sure about that?”

“Well, apparently you can fix an air conditioner.” I gave him a quick lookover. “Is there a specific compliment you’re fishin’ for?”

“No.”

Back to staring in silence. He was very comfortable looking at me without saying a word for what seemed like hours. I on the other hand couldn’t stand being under his steel gaze. The silence wasn’t the issue, but looking at him and feeling him burn a hole through me? My thighs clenched. I cleared my throat. “You mind if I get dressed?” I rose and said no more, hoping he caught my drift. I was in a weird space right now with Frank. My upset from earlier was now only a lingering memory, overshadowed by my attraction to him in this very moment. Him, wrapped in a towel, half naked, dripping fresh from the shower, hair a mess, muscles and all. But I couldn’t let him get off easy, even if it meant a little sexual pain and suffering for myself. He stood and walked pass me as I dug for a pair of shorts in the dresser. I heard my bedroom door close and turned to my left, seeing him leaning against the doorframe.

“I don’t mind at all. Get dressed. Let’s see how far you get,” he challenged. That being said I knew I wouldn’t get far. The moment my hands went to the belt of my robe he pushed himself off the wall, but I shook my head and dissuaded him from making any further advances.

“You think I should have sex with you, Frank?”

“Is there something else you’d rather be doing right now, Y/N?”

“Yes, getting dressed. Enjoying cool air before that shitty AC breaks again. Lying down since, as you pointed out, I’m so fatigued.”

“Right.” My words fell on deaf ears. I knew I failed to convince him sex wasn’t an option because with Frank it was always an option; he was a hard man to say no to. He came to me and untied my robe, black eyes on mine. “You’re not very good at fighting this side of you.”

“Fuck you,” I shot back with very little bite, his close proximity making me nervous. I was pathetic and he probably knew it as an arrogant smile broke his lips. I was prepared to knock that arrogance down a peg by embracing some of my own.

Or at least faking it ‘til I made it.

I grabbed the tucked in edges of the towel wrapped around his waist, looking him in the face. He didn’t take my robe off but simply left it open and rested his hands on my waist. “I did use that conditioner shit, if you were wondering,” he admitted.

“I appreciate your candor,” I replied coolly, my eyes not breaking from his. “Can I offer my moment of truth now?”

“Don’t see why not.”

“... I hit you earlier.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I was there. I remember it.”

“I should apologize, don’t you think?”

“I think you should never apologize if it isn’t genuine.”

“You wanna know what I think?” I pulled at the towel until it fell to the floor. He didn’t respond, but I knew I had his attention. “I think you liked it, Frank.”

“S’at right?” He spoke just loud enough for me to make out the words, stepping closer to me and challenging the authority I’d taken here. We were standing so close I swore I could feel the hairs on his legs tickling my exposed thighs. “If I did?”

“If you did,” I spoke, my fingers itching to reach out and grab at every inch of him, “then that speaks very interesting volumes about you.”

“Does it?” He pinched the back of my robe and slowly began pulling it away from my body, the thin cotton sliding at slug-like pace down my shoulders.

“Explains all the bumps and bruises you’re covered in. A human punching bag? Maybe you’re in some kinda fight club or somethin’...”

“Maybe. Maybe I manage to piss off women all throughout the city and these are my battle scars.”

“After today I’m almost inclined to believe you.”

He smirked and looked me up and down before sighing. “You ready or what?”

“For?”

“Me to remind you of the other thing I can do for sure...” Whether I was ready or not didn’t matter since he didn’t wait for a response to tug my robe the remainder of the way off and flinging it to the corner. He held onto my waist as he turned to take a seat at the foot of my bed where his lips forcefully tangled with mine. My hands instantly flew to his freshly conditioned hair as I felt his lips burn holes wherever they landed; my lips, my jaw, my neck and shoulders. When his mouth found my breast my back arched towards him, pushing myself further into him and not wanting his tongue to ever lift from my skin. His dick was sandwiched between our bodies and I felt it begin to swell, and without a single doubt in my mind I was throbbing between my legs for him. It was funny and also incredibly annoying, how my pussy ached for Frank whether he was coming or going. It ached before sex in anticipation and it sure as hell ached after. He was vanilla through and through so he wasn’t necessarily rough with sex, but a man of his size, in body and dick, couldn’t help but naturally put an exhausting pounding on you.

A large hand crept up my neck and to my jaw before a finger slipped between my lips. His forehead pressed to mine as those obsidian eyes watched intensely as I sucked the appendage. After pushing a second finger in, his lips found the corner of mine, kissing me before moving to scrape his teeth along my collarbone. The hot air escaping him raised goosebumps on whatever stretch of skin it hit and I salivated as a result, from both pairs of lips. Without warning he removed the slicked fingers from my mouth and slide them inside of me, all the way to the bruised knuckles of his middle and index fingers. “Holy shit,” I breathed.

“Ride ‘em,” he commanded. He held his hand completely still as I worked my body up and down. I clung to him, wrapping my arms over his shoulders and burying my face in his neck. He smelled just like my shower gel; I smiled amidst the pleasure with a chuckle. “What?”

“You smell like me.”

“Is this a bad thing?”

“It’s… an odd thing.”

He smiled to himself and kissed me with an uncharacteristic sweetness. “Ride.” And ride I did. While Frank may not venture on the kinky side often, he knew more than enough about denying an orgasm. It’s like he had a sensor that went off the moment I even thought about cumming. Just as I reached the brink of climax he removed his fingers from me, returning them to my mouth. “Tastes like you too, huh?” I bit down at his arrogance and he laughed, pulling his fingers from my mouth and kissing me as he lifted me onto his now erect cock. Good thing too, I was getting bothered by it jabbing me in the gut. I sighed into his mouth as he proceeded to swallow my moans whole, his grip on my waist increasing as I eagerly bounced on him. Guess he wanted me to be as bruised as he always was, give me battle scars of my own.

And he couldn’t have been more right: this was without a doubt one thing I knew he could do. Fuck me into another plane of existence. He rolled me over onto the edge of the bed hooking my legs around his waist, driving himself deeper into me with each thrust. All ability to form words flew out the window since the most I could utter was extremely broken English and cries for anyone in the heavens to send help. I managed to pry my eyes open to stare at him; he was looking at my body like a vampire eyeing a throbbing neck vein. He wanted to sink his teeth in and drain me for every drop I was worth, but for whatever reason was exercising self control. The kinda self control you manage to develop after serving in the military with intense training. Part of me wanted him to lose control just to see the other side to Frank, but the other part, the one that took him in for his size and scarred body? That part warned me it was probably best I didn’t push him. “I’m sorry,” I managed to spit out.

“What?” he choked out between ragged breaths.

“Sss, for hitting you.” He paused, which I was somewhat grateful for because it gave me a chance to catch my breath. I looked at his confusion riddled face. “I shouldn’a done that. I crossed a- Frank!” With an eyeroll and a signature annoyed grunt he lifted me from the bed and I crashed against the wall. Quickly he resumed slamming himself into me, holding my thighs around his waist. The air conditioner hadn’t been running long enough to cool off my room, so in addition to the physical activity the beads of sweat travelling down his forehead made sense. My nails dragged across his back, surely vandalizing his body even further, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead of complaining he hiked my legs up even higher, pushed himself deeper and harder.

“Don’t apologize again.” His voice husky and demanding, telling me and not suggesting.

No. In moments as such, rarely did Frank suggest things.

“F-Fine,” I moaned, my body working overtime to say just that one word. My hands tangled in his hair as I kissed him, tasting him and savoring the flavor. Hell, I savored every part of him that I could while I could. I fought to keep my legs tightly around him so I dropped one to the floor. He took the other and straightened it to rest on his shoulder, but at that angle and with that kind of access I instantly cried out. “Fuck!” It was entirely too much and there’d be no way in hell I would last more than two seconds. I buckled at the knees and fell, causing us both to collapse to the floor and taking the curtain rod on the nearby window with us.

“Shit,” I laughed, now on top of his chest, rapidly rising and falling as he panted.

“You pull a muscle or somethin’ there?”

“Fuck you, you were tryna split me in half.”

“And I thought I was outta shape,” he cracked with a grin.

“I can show you how outta shape I am…” I teased, sitting up and slowly starting to ride him.

He sent a sting to my ass with one powerful smack. “Show me...”

The wild origami position against the wall that hit every spot imaginable nearly killed me, but this? Cowgirl, I could manage. A position this simple gave me the sustainability I needed to deal with Frank, someone that seemed to last a fortnight. It was a welcomed change of pace for a while, but it bored me, and I knew he sensed that. He picked up on the fact I wasn’t as sexually reserved as he was. I liked sex and I liked it as hard as I could get it. From the very beginning I told him he didn’t have to be delicate. Maybe he thought he needed to hold back, him being so much bigger than me. But I wasn’t intimidated by it, which he found out very soon.

He shot up and winked before lifting me to turn my around. “On your knees.” Ah yes, the final blow. I grabbed my discarded robe and laid it down before me so my face wouldn’t touch the carpet. As soon as I was on all floors, a firm hand held the back of my neck and forced me down, my back concaving sending my ass to the ceiling. As Frank slowly pushed himself inside of me my eyes rolled back, my breathing stopped, and I believe a chunk of my soul escaped me. This was the vacation I needed. Good sex let me drift off to whatever utopian paradise I needed.

“S’at good?”

I nodded fervently. “Yes yes, it’s great. Oh fuck…”

“I can’t hear you,” he spoke as he slammed into me forcefully.

“Yes! Yes, I love it, Frank, I love it.” I mewled and cried for him on my bedroom floor for the next couple minutes, the hard, cheap carpet burning my knees as he grinded me against it. I wonder if the neighbors below could hear me howling through the floor, possibly into what was my guess their living room ceiling. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Lemme have it,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he reached his own climax. But I learned that Frank was a visual man, and I knew the view of my back wasn’t enough to get him over the edge. And me, I wasn’t a selfish lover. So to help us both out I reached beneath me and began rubbing my clit. To the best of my ability I propped myself up on my arm and managed to look over my shoulder into those smoldering eyes, eyes that some might find frightening. To me they just showed how hungry he was for this, which was an enormous turn on. So much of a turn on that I came around his cock, clenching and tightening around him which in turn sent him stiffening and grunting. He quickly pulled himself out of me as I lay there gasping for air. I felt the splatter of something warm and sticky on my lower back, remembering we forgot to use a condom. Not my smartest moment, but everyone has slips in the heat of things.

“Stay still,” he heaved, rising from the floor. I heard him fumbling in the bathroom. When he returned, he bent down and wiped my back with a bit of toilet paper.

“What a gentleman.”

“I do my best.”

After regaining consciousness and coming back to earth I managed to sit up, every ball and joint feeling like they needed oil to work smoothly again. I managed to get up from the floor and pulled my robe back on, grabbed the panties I planned to wear and went to the bathroom myself for a post-sex pee and some clean up. “You know that chicken in the oven’s probably dryer than a bone now, right?”

“You still got beer in the fridge?”

“Uhhh yeah, maybe one or two cans.”

“Toss the chicken; I’m gonna grab a pizza from down the street.”

“Your clothes aren’t even in the dryer yet-”

“-It’s fine. Hot as it is outside they’ll dry before I even get from in front of the buildin’...”

“Okay. Grab a twenty from the coffee table.” I knew he wouldn’t for two reasons: one, he never took money when I offered. Man of pride, has to care for woman and all the caveman shit. Two, it was the money Jason left, drug money, which he was clearly very adamantly against. As I washed my hands there was a knock on the bathroom door. I dried them on my robe before opening.

“I am sorry about earlier. Don’t think I tried to fuck you into forgivin’ me or anything like that.”

I nodded. “I know.” He pondered for a moment before turning away. “Hey, how come you can apologize but I can’t?”

He chuckled to himself, turning back to me. “Because I’m an asshole and you aren’t.” He kissed me and quickly nipped at my neck before walking towards the apartment door. “Put some clothes on or we’re in for round two when I get back.”

Yeah right. Clothes or not, we both knew round two was imminent probably the moment he walked right back through my door.

#frank castle #frank x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #frank castle fic

66 notes · View notes