#just been in the kitchen dancing around to my little tunes and texting my friends <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

lose you [one] // leigh shaw

summary: after Leigh ignores your existence for a few days, you decide to force her out of her room and spend the afternoon with you, but it ends up leading to something more

warning/s: mentions of grief and implied death

author's note: this was requested and I finally got around to watching Sorry For Your Loss (which is so good by the way! i'm so mad it got cancelled), so here is a little Leigh Shaw imagine! It's a three-parter so stay tuned :)

part two | part three | masterlist | wattpad

"Where is she?"

Jules, her sister, pointed up at the ceiling, referring to upstairs, as she finished chewing on a grape. "What did she do now?"

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the reminder that Leigh had been ignoring my calls and texts for the past few days.

"Nothing," I mumbled before leaving her in the kitchen to eat her fruit.

I'd been friends with Leigh long enough to invite myself into her house and let myself head upstairs. When I reached her room, I knocked on the door and tried to hide my impatience with a sigh.

"Jules, I'm not in the mood," her voice grumbled from the other side.

Ever since losing her husband a year ago, Leigh's personality had become more... erratic, if you will. Understanding her mood changes and temper tantrums was a skill in itself, but I was determined to stick by her if it meant she'd be okay. Like now, for example.

"It's not Jules," I called back. She didn't reply, so I said, "You better have clothes on, I'm coming in."

Without wasting a second, I opened the door and found Leigh laying on her bed, thankfully dressed, and looking up at the ceiling. Her room was slightly messy and the curtains were half open, like she'd been in the same position for the past few days. I wouldn't have put it past her.

When I entered, her eyes glanced my way before she continued to stare a hole into the ceiling. I breathed out, unsure what to say.

"Don't look at me like that," she said quietly.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd replied to any of my texts," I retorted, though my tone was anything but harsh.

"I've been busy," she mumbled.

My eyes raked the room once again. "Yeah, I can see that... it's two in the afternoon."

Suddenly, she sat up and narrowed her eyes at me. "Look, if I wanted a lecture, I'd have let Jules in here. If you've not got anything nice to say, you know where the door is."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored her flippant attitude and went to the set of chest drawers pushed against her wall. I rifled through them, earning complaints from behind me, before pulling out some clothes and throwing them at her.

"We're going out," I told her sternly, crossing my arms.

She removed the clothes from her face and gave me a disapproving look. "No, we're not."

"I'm not leaving unless you come with me, so..."

She could be a bitch when she wanted to be, but she knew I could be, too. Our stubbornness was our weakness, since neither of us could back down in a fight. Nowadays, it usually ended with me giving in because I pitied her, but not today. Today I was adamant on cheering her up.

"Fine," she said through a sigh of defeat. "Just get out already."

I smiled victoriously. "See you downstairs."

After waiting for Leigh to get ready and out of the pyjamas I was sure she'd lived in for three days straight, we got in my car and I began to drive.

"Where are we going?" she asked, glancing over at me with mild annoyance, like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Not sure yet," I admitted, ignoring the disbelief on her face.

"Then why did you make me come?!" she asked, her attention fully on me now.

I shrugged. "Thought you could use the break." Shoulders relaxing, I added, "I also thought we could spend some time together since we haven't in a while."

I didn't want to say it was because of the fact that she'd been avoiding me, or at least been making no effort to talk to me. I also didn't want to make her feel bad because of those facts, but she seemed to take it personally anyway, resorting to a good old-fashioned Leigh-specialty eye roll.

"I'm not sorry for grieving," she said knowingly, getting comfortable in her seat and looking out the window.

I gripped the steering wheel harder and tried not to let her words make a difference. She had a bad habit of twisting my words or making things seem worse than they were and I knew it was a coping mechanism of hers. She only tried to cope when things got too much, which only confirmed my reason for taking her out today.

"You don't have to be," was all I said, before focusing back on my driving.

—

Halfway through our drive to nowhere, I pulled the roof of the car down so we could feel the wind in our hair and the sun on our backs, since it was a nice day. I also put the radio on, hoping it would ease the tension on Leigh's end of the car.

Pop songs blared through the speakers, some that I knew and some that I didn't. Of course, the ones that I knew I immediately sang along to. Leigh definitely didn't like that, opting to roll her eyes and pretend I wasn't there. But eventually, I knew she wouldn't be able to resist and she began to hum along, making me smile.

On the road that led to nowhere, I noticed a public footpath leading into the forest and decided to take a pit stop, utilising the car park nearby. When Leigh noticed what I was doing, she straightened up and looked around with confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes falling to mine.

I tried not to laugh. "We, my friend, are going on a walk."

"You're kidding."

"I'm really not."

I felt her eyes on me as I parked up and turned the engine off. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I opened my car door and met her judgemental gaze, noticing she wasn’t making a move to leave.

"You coming?" I asked with a raised brow.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," I said, not quite stepping out the car but hanging my feet out. "You can either come with me on a nice walk through the forest, or you can stay here and roast to death in the car because of the heat whilst you wait for me."

"Or I can steal your keys and drive home without you," she offered as a third option, smiling bitterly.

Grin on my lips, I hummed in agreement. "That's also an option, yes."

Letting out a sigh through gritted teeth, she wordlessly got out the car and I smiled with satisfaction, knowing she'd give in. Getting out the car, I stretched my arms before locking the doors and joining Leigh's side. She sulked like a child, but allowed me to lead her to the trail ahead.

It was a lovely day out, warm but with a slight breeze that cooled our skin as we walked. Sunlight peeked through the tall trees, reflecting off the greenery and filling me with a sense of awe as I appreciated mother nature up close and personal.

Glancing over at Leigh, I noticed how she fell into step with me but remained closed off. Hugging herself, she focused on the path ahead and stayed quiet, jaw clenched and lips pursed. Streams of light that shone through the trees shone onto her, spotlighting her and making her hair look golden, blinding but in the best way.

I'd never admit it aloud, but I always loved the way her green eyes sparkled in the light, and even when she turned to glare at me, I felt my heart rate speeding up at how beautiful she looked.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she said dryly.

Not letting her mood get me down, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo, making her smack my hand away. I laughed and, for her sake, pretended I didn't see the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"That's one for the books," I teased, putting my phone away.

"It's fine, I have plenty of you," she mumbled.

I smiled to myself but said nothing. We continued to walk through the woods, following the trail and myself remembering every turn we made so we could make it back the right way. There were a few other people out, but we passed them with a quick hello (from myself since Leigh was still sulking) and moved on.

Twenty minutes into our peaceful walk, I noticed a wooden footbridge up ahead, possibly built over a stream. Excited, I stopped and looked to Leigh who noticed I wasn't beside her and turned around to see what was up.

"Why d'you stop?" she asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail impatiently.

I smiled eagerly. "I'll race you to the bridge."

"Y/N," she breathed out, raising her eyebrows. "We're not kids."

I walked forward slowly, smile fading into a frown. "Fine. Sorry for trying to liven things up."

She rolled her eyes and continued to walk beside me in silence. But my pace picked up, as did hers, and I exchanged glances with her, realising she was walking faster than usual. Before I knew it, we were breaking into a run, trying to reach the bridge before each other.

"Thought you didn't wanna race!" I said between heavy breaths.

"I don't!" she called back, her pace picking up as she managed to get ahead.

I sucked up a breath and pushed on, tailing her as she reached the bridge. When she got there, she began to cheer and point at me obnoxiously.

"Ha! I win!" she said with a grin, as I slowed down and bent over to catch my breath. "Sucks to be you."

Her laughter filled my ears as I straightened up, hands on my hips. She looked so happy, even if it was momentarily, and I watched her with adoration, not even caring that I'd lost. She was stunning when she was smiling and I could only hope she'd do it more as time went on.

"I let you win," I joked, waving my hand dismissively.

"Sure you did," she played along, leaning on the bridge's railing as she watched me with amusement.

"You literally exercise for a living," I told her with a shrug. "S'not fair."

"Whatever," she said with an eye roll, smile still dancing on her lips as she turned around to look over the bridge. A gasp escaped her lips as she said, "Wow."

I joined her side, holding the railing to see what had taken her breath away. Then I saw it. A stream ran beneath us and was framed by some beautiful flowers and tall, transcending trees whose branches curled outwards and were covered in green leaves. The sun's rays filtered down through the leaves and made the water look like it was sparkling, rippling with every rock it pushed past.

"Looks like something out of a children's book," I said with disbelief, smile of amazement on my lips.

Leigh hummed in agreement and I glanced at her, seeing a similar expression on her face. Glad she was in a better mood, I looked back to the picturesque view before us and leaned on the railing, merely appreciating the sight.

"This is nice," Leigh said quietly, after a moment.

I tilted my head to get a look at her. She was already looking my way, leaning on her arms and meeting my gaze.

"Thanks, I put it all together myself," I said playfully, making her nudge me with her elbow as I chuckled.

"I'm serious," she said, before looking ahead again. "It is."

Knowing that was her way of saying thank you without actually saying it, I nodded in agreement. "It is."

We admired the sight for a few more minutes before deciding to head back, taking our time as we followed the route I remembered. Leigh was a little less tense this time, seeming to relax into her surroundings a little more. She even had a smile on her face at times which was all I wanted.

"You hungry?" I asked when we reached the car park.

"I guess I could eat," she said with a shrug.

"Well, according to this sign," I said, pointing to a board beside the start of the footpath, "there's a café a little way down the road. Wanna go?"

She motioned for me to go first. "After you."

Green eyes shone bright with amusement as she looked to me with a suppressed smile. Losing my words, surprisingly startled by her gaze, I cleared my throat and took the lead, making her laugh.

I sometimes wondered if she knew the effect she had on me or if she just liked catching me off guard. Maybe it was both.

—

After having a late lunch, or early dinner depending on how you saw it, Leigh and I got back in my car and I began to drive us back to hers. It was quiet, just like our meal was and just like she'd been for most of the afternoon. I was fine with that, I guess, but I felt like she was holding something in.

Turning off the radio, I earned her attention.

"You should try screaming," I suggested casually.

"Excuse me?"

I felt her eyes boring into me with confusion as I got comfortable in my seat. Looking in the rear view mirror, I noticed there were no cars behind us or in front of us. The road was empty as I drove on the edge of one of the many beautiful cliff-sides in Los Angeles.

"Scream," I repeated to Leigh. "It'll feel good. Watch."

Wasting no time, I began to scream at the top of my lungs, being sure to stay focused on driving at the same time. My voice flew into the air as my car sped down the road, leaving me feeling liberated.

"Geez, a warning would be nice!" Leigh snapped, uncovering her ears when I was done.

I laughed. "I did say to scream." Giving her a sideways glance, I added, "Come on. Try it with me. On the count of three."

"This is stupid," she decided, leaning back into her seat and pushing her hair from her eyes as the wind blew it about.

"No, it's not," I said with certainty. "Three."

"Y/N."

"Two."

"Stop it."

"One."

"Y/N!"

I looked to her with a grin before screaming at the top of my lungs. When I didn't hear her join in, I stopped and pouted.

"You gonna leave me hanging?" I asked, looking between her and the road. "C'mon. Last chance."

"Y/N–"

"Three. Two. One."

This time, to my surprise, she joined in and we screamed together, our voices echoing into the hills around us. It was exciting, thrilling and freeing all at once. Once we were out of breath, we stopped and caught it back.

"Felt good, right?" I asked with a grin.

She began to laugh, quietly, slowly, then loudly and hysterically, making me join in. Though, when my laughter faded, I realised she was still laughing, and then I looked over to her and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. With concern, I reached over to comfort her, but stopped when I realised it was weird to do, even for a friend.

"Leigh, I'm sorry, I–"

"No, no, it's fine, I'm fine," she cut me off, wide smile still on her lips as she wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her jumper. "They're happy tears. Y/N. They're happy tears."

I furrowed my brows with confusion, eyes flickering between the road and Leigh. "Are you– are you sure? Because it's okay if–"

"I'm okay," she promised, resting a hand on my arm. "I am. And the screaming helped. You were right."

I almost made a joke about how I'm always right, but my concern for her, despite the smile she wore, was still present. Teary eyes watched me with reassurance and she squeezed my arm gently before getting comfortable in her seat.

"Okay, if you're sure," I said, still uncertain.

We continued driving when I noticed the sun setting and decided to stop the car off to the side of the road. The hills were the perfect place to watch the sunset since it had a perfect view of the city whilst leaving enough space to see the sky in all its glory.

"Now why are we stopping?" she asked, though her voice didn't carry the same venom it did earlier.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked rhetorically, getting out the car and motioning to the view before us. "We're gonna watch the sun set!"

I thought she'd put up a fight or complain like she had with everything I'd been recommending today, but to my ease, she simply got out the car and joined me. The two of us leaned against the car door as we watched the sun dipping into the horizon, casting an orange-pink hue across the skyline and the few clouds in the sky. It always reminded me of a watercolour painting, like someone had dipped their paintbrush in water and dragged it across the sky.

"Thank you for today," Leigh said, pulling me from my admiration. "I actually had a really nice time. As in, the part I spent with you and not the part where I moped around in bed."

I gave her a half smile. "Anytime, Leigh."

She winced, shaking her head in disagreement. "No, I mean it, Y/N. For everything, not just this." She paused, and I tried to ignore the way the last of the sun's rays made her skin glow and eyes shine brighter than anything I'd ever seen. "You've been here for me, even a year later when other people would have left."

"That's what friends are for," I reminded her, and her eyes flickered to mine, holding a million questions that I couldn't decipher.

"I'm not the best company," she admitted.

"You're not that bad," I said dismissively.

"I wouldn't want to be around me," she continued.

"Who likes to be left alone with themselves anyway?" I said jokingly, making her sigh discontentedly. Smile fading, I lost my humour for the moment. "You're not as bad as you think. And even if you were, I'd still stick around."

She locked her jaw, looking down to her shoes silently. I crossed my arms and looked back to the sun, it lowering into the horizon further and further as each second passed.

"I didn't mean to force today onto you," I said hesitantly. "I just– you didn't reply to any of my messages and I was worried."

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I haven't really checked my phone."

"I figured." Finger playing with my shirt mindlessly, I said, "I got a promotion at work. That's–" I cleared my throat. "That was why I called you the first time."

She looked up, eyes wide with apology. "Oh my God. Y/N, I'm so sorry! That's amazing! I should have–"

"It's okay," I reassured her with a small smile, dropping my arms to my side. "I just wanted to tell you because, well... I just wanted to tell you."

I wanted to tell her because that's what we did. We told each other everything. She was the first person that came to mind when anything good happened in my life. Of course, with everything going on, it was hard to tell her the good stuff when she was going through so much.

"I'm so proud of you," she said softly, and I looked her way when she grabbed my hand. "You worked really hard for this promotion and I knew you'd get it."

A smile crept onto my lips at her words. "Thank you, Leigh. You know that means a lot."

She nodded, mirroring my expression, before squeezing my hand gently. I wanted to look away after a few seconds, but she was still holding my gaze, eyes piercing mine as if conflicted. I suddenly became hyper-aware of her hand in mine, fingers gently tugging mine subconsciously, and the way her shoulder brushed against mine, the contact so natural I almost didn't realise it was there.

When I finally decided to break our staring contest, deciding I'd never know what was going on in her head, she took me by surprise and pulled me forward before kissing me. Her lips pressed to mine quickly, hand letting go and resting on the back of my neck dominantly.

It happened so quickly, my mind working overtime as it tried to decipher Leigh's soft lips against mine, the shiver that ran down my spine from her hand on my neck, the tenderness of her cheek as it came into contact with my nose. I didn't even get chance to react, to kiss her back like I wanted, as she pulled away in an instant.

Seemingly startled by her own actions, she let go of my neck and took a step back. I already missed the contact, my lips feeling cold as she pulled away. I, myself, was taken aback, still frozen with shock at the fact that she'd just kissed me.

"Th– that was a friendly kiss, obviously," she stuttered out, eyes avoiding mine.

I licked my lips awkwardly. "Yeah, obviously..."

"To say thanks," she added unconvincingly. "Y'know?"

"Mhm."

Neither of us looked up as we stood apart trying to understand what happened. Why did she do that? Did she actually want to? Was she caught up in the moment or was she just seeking comfort? I wasn't sure. But I knew I wished I had reacted quicker than I had.

"We should go home," she mumbled.

I nodded in agreement. "Right. Yeah. Home."

The two of us got back into my car, neither of us saying anything as I drove her back to her place. The radio played quietly in the background, filling the uncomfortable silence that formed between us, and I hated that a good day had ended on a bad note.

Pulling up outside her house, I chewed on the inside of my mouth with discomfort. She cleared her throat and still didn't look my way as she spoke.

"Thanks again for today," she said, before opening the door. "I'll, er, see you whenever."

I nodded, eyes focused on the steering wheel. "See you. I, erm–" I wanted to say something about the kiss, but she clearly didn't and I didn't want to piss her off. So, I said, "Tell Jules and your mum I said hi."

"Will do..."

With that, she got out the car and headed to her front door, leaving me sat there for a moment as I tried to comprehend the situation I was now in.

Why did Leigh have to be so confusing?

#leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw imagine #leigh shaw x you #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss imagine #sorry for your loss #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen x reader

411 notes · View notes

oopsimbug · 3 years ago

Text

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

#by bug #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #hope you have a wonderful day my little pots of sweet tea!

245 notes · View notes

itsbeaconhillsbaby · 4 years ago

Text

the way I love you // tom holland x reader

a/n: hello my lovelies! it’s been a little while since I posted something, this piece has fully been kicking my butt but she’s finally here and I hope you like her even if she is a little rough around the edges. as always, love to know what you think. also, I will do an official post regarding rules but from here until I close them my * REQUESTS ARE OPEN * my 10th piece of writing (WHAT) is a requested piece that I'm so excited to share with you guys and the lovely human who requested it, so stay tuned for that but in the meantime, sending all the love, and I hope you're all staying safe out there, please enjoy! x

word count: 2.1K warning: swearing, lil bit of angst if you squint summary: your best friend tom is helping you move in, but you have a secret and it’s been making things difficult. it’s time to fess up.

The rain thumped against the windows, droplets eagerly chasing each other to the bottom. The wind whistled, branches reaching out as the trees shook. Soft wispy curtains were pulled tight to keep the cold, stormy weather locked outside. Yet the sounds of cars speeding through the flooded roads could still be heard from the storeys above. The room was almost bare, the orange glow of the streetlights casting warm shadows upon the wooden floorboards. A couple of unopened cardboard boxes were stacked up against one wall. One section of the room was lowly lit with battery-operated soft, twinkling fairy lights and flickering candles. The floor was decorated with a few cosy blankets and pillows. Half eaten cartons of sushi sat abandoned alongside a takeaway pizza box full of cheesy crusts. A laptop balanced precariously on one of the boxes, movie already playing. “Happy move-in day,” a voice whispers, just grazing past your ear. You lay on your front on the floor, wrapped up in an exceptionally fluffy blanket. Your best friend is sat semi cross-legged with his knees up, arms hooked around them, the pair of you only a breath apart. You turn your head lazily in his direction, unable to hide the grin from your face as he cocks his head, mimicking you with his own cheesy smile - noses almost touching. “Thanks for helping me out. Have I ever told you that you’re my favourite?” “Oh, not nearly enough.” He nudges your side, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically. You laugh, causing his face to soften at your expression before you focus your attention back to the small screen. Tom frowns slightly as you turn away, keeping his eyes on you as he drinks you in slowly. Your hair was almost completely dry from the rainstorm, and had begun curling at the ends and around your hairline, one piece had fallen across your face which he ached to tuck back into place behind your ear. You had a light flush across your cheeks, eyes shining bright as your face slackened, concentrating on the film. He let out a soft sigh before swallowing, dragging his eyes away from you and back to the movie. **** It hadn’t taken long for you and tom to gravitate closer to each other, a chill making its way through the apartment as you were yet to install a new heating system. You were tucked into his side, head resting gently against his shoulder, breaths synchronising. You shifted slightly, yet Tom kept a protective arm around you. A black screen took over the laptop as the credits started rolling. Tom let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he slowly sat up, bringing you with him. “I better go, it’s late and I have a bunch of meetings tomorrow. Plus you still have unpacking to do…” he teases, collecting some of the empty cartons. You nod, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and gathering it around your waist as you hit pause on the laptop. Stretching your body out, you could already feel the twinges in your back from sitting on the hard floor. The sky had darkened considerably, storm worsening behind the curtains, rain lashing down hard. You glance across at tom, watching as he steps foot into the kitchen, tiding up the rubbish into a neat pile. You bite your lip slightly as you give him a once over. His hair was unruly, eager for a styling from Rachel as it attempted to curl against his forehead, and you could see where he’d been running his hands through it all day. You loved how relaxed he looked in your presence, allowing himself to be slightly unkempt and messy. You watched his mouth and eyebrows twitch animatedly as he cleaned up the kitchen, the sleeves of his oversized hoodie rolled up his forearms. Suddenly he looked up, eyes directly locking with yours and your felt your face flush. “Stop staring at me you div,” he teased, as his face breaking out into a grin, eyes creasing at the sides, still locked with yours. “Calm down movie star, you ain’t all that,” you laugh nervously, internally berating yourself for getting caught in a trance as you pick up the rest of the rubbish and join Tom in the kitchen, blanket slouched around your shoulders and trailing behind you. Truth was, something had changed during the last film Tom had been away filming for. Tiny butterflies would dance in your stomach whenever your phone pinged with a new message or silly photo he’d sent you. You brushed it off at first, thinking you were just missing his company. But by the time he got back, you felt nervous and giddy around him and everything was weird. It wasn’t until one day you found yourself waking up with a start as he began to infiltrate your dreams when you realised you were feeling very differently for your best friend than you’d ever felt before. “This place is nice, but I still don’t know why you turned us boys down though? Harrison said he asked before I came back and you said no?” he wondered aloud, miming an arrow through his heart as the pair of you make your way downstairs. You laugh at his antics but wrap the blanket that little bit tighter around yourself, finding the floor of your building suddenly extremely interesting. “Don’t tell me you’re sick of us lot already? We’ve been together too long for you to ditch us all now.” He gives you a little nudge in the arm with his elbow. You took a deep breath, shaking your hair out of your face. “I’ll still be round all the time. I literally live on the other side of the park,” you laugh as he pouts, “Tom, it’s not even 20 minutes away.” “Still doesn’t explain why you won’t move in with us?” You sigh, your frustration building. “Just leave it,” you snap, adding a quieter “please” after a beat. There’s a stifling silence as you both walk down the concrete staircase, you twist the mechanical lock on the front door and wait for the buzz as it clicks and opens up to the world outside.

Tom whistles at the torrential storm as he steps outside, trees were bending over, leaves billowing in the wind. The steps up to the building were gathering puddles of water and you could already see the road ahead was beginning to flood.

“Oh my god.”

The pair of you quickly throw the trash into the bin that was sitting at the bottom of some basement level steps.

“Listen, but I only ask because...it’s just, you’ve been a bit off since I came back from Atlanta. if it wasn’t for Harrison telling me he couldn’t make it today, you wouldn’t have even asked me to help you move in? What’s up with that?” he asks, standing behind you, shielding you from as much of the rain as he could.

“I just thought you’d be busy, y’know. What with being away for so long.”

“And? It’s not like that’s ever stopped you before. Seriously though, did I do something wrong? Did the boys? Because you can tell me.”

“Tom it’s nothing. Seriously, quit it.” Avoiding his stare, you shake your head and turn on your heel in an attempt to push the door back open but it stays firmly shut. You twist the handle multiple times as it jangles in response, remaining firmly locked. You freeze in immediate panic, feeling your pockets for your keys which were still sitting on your kitchen counter.

“Oh my god, no. No fucking way.”

“What? What is it?” He reaches a hand over your shoulder and gives the door a shove, “Is it stuck?”

“No tom, it’s locked! The wind must’ve closed it! I’ve left my apartment open and the keys are on the kitch – fuck! I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey it’s fine. Calm down. Hey, maybe if you lived with us we wouldn’t be having this problem…” he joked, pulling off his hoodie as thunder rumbled in the distance, the rain bouncing down onto the two of you.

“Now is really not the time Tom!” You exclaim, feeling your heart-rate spike, anxious about being locked out on your very first day living alone.

“Would you calm down, we’ll sort it. Your doors just unlocked, it’s not like you left it wide open.”

“If you hadn’t been asking so many stupid questions, I wouldn’t have forgotten my keys in the first place!”

“Really?! You’re blaming me for caring about you? Alright listen, I just wanted to know what’s going on with you. I know you, and I know when something’s wrong! Why won't you just tell me?!”

“Oh my god, fine! You want to know so badly? It’s you, okay!” You shout, whirling around now standing chest to chest, you could feel your eyes burning with the tears you were fighting back, “You’re the reason I can’t move in with you guys! Because I hoped that this feeling would go away. If I avoided you it would go away and things would be normal and nothing would change. But that’s not the case!” You gulped in a breath, refusing to look into the deep brown eyes that were staring at you, so wide and confused, “That’s not the case, because every time I’m with you I feel like my heart is going to beat straight out of my chest. I get these stupid knots in my stomach whenever you so much as send me a fucking text. Sitting together in there side by side, alone together, casually watching a film and all I can think about is god, I wish he’d just kiss me! I don’t want to fall in love with you because this,” you gesture between the two of you, “what we are, it’ll all be gone and I’ll have ruined everything. And I can’t Tom. I can’t deal with that. So, there you go. I’m in love with you, and I hate myself for it. So, what? Are you happy now?! Does that clear everything up for you!”

Tom froze.

Your chest heaves, the tears that you let fall mixing in with the rain, leaving you sniffling. You push your soaking wet hair out of your face, roughly wiping your cheeks as you turn and hit the buzzer for the apartment block, banging your fist on the main door.

“C’mon!”

Tom stood silently, still frozen outside your apartment entrance, the rain so heavy it was bouncing off of his clothes. His curls were flattened, droplets dripping from his hair, his nose, his eyelashes. his t-shirt was already drenched by the rain, fabric clinging to his frame. He blinks, once, twice then once more, his jaw unclenching.

He reaches forwards, fingertips lightly caressing your hand, his featherlight touch pulsating through your entire body.

You tear your hand away from him, a gasp letting loose, “Don’t.”

He perseveres, pulling you round, more forcefully this time until you are nose to nose again.

Your body shivers in the cold, wet air as you stare at the ground. Tom’s firm grip around your wrists.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft and gentle.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head as you exhale breathily.

He lets go of you, your hands curled into small fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

One hand lifts your chin to his level, his thumb softly collecting the mixture of tears and rain from beneath your eyes and brushing them away.

“I wish you’d just told me. It would’ve saved you all this hurt.”

His left hand comes up and tucks the soaking wet pieces of hair that has been whipping around your face in the wind gently behind your ear. Stroking the stray strands.

Your teary, glistening eyes connect with his. They were alive with such care and concern. Before you knew it, that feeling was back in the pit of your stomach, pulling and twisting in knots as you stared into the eyes of the boy you loved.

You blinked, eyelashes fluttering when all of a sudden, the hand that had brushed your tears away cradles the side of your head, bringing your faces together, the other hand lightly fluttering to your waist, pulling you in closer.

The rain continued to fall, the two of you completely oblivious as your lips brush, foreheads pressed together. It’s soft and slow, almost uncertain at first before immediately intensifying, the two of you pushing your bodies against each other. You take a breath as he strokes your cheek and your lips with his thumb, pulling you back in for another gentle kiss with a hand to the back of your head, tangling in your soaking hair as he presses your faces closer together.

The pair of you pull away, both your chests heaving as you exhale.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, voice raspy.

“Because. that’s the way I love you. Not just as a friend. And for years, I sat on it, too scared to ruin what we have.” You shake your head, as a couple of bubbles of laughter spill from your lips. Tom’s face brightens up quickly, those little creases that you loved so much appearing at the outward corners of his eyes as he whispered, “C’mere. I got you.”

He pulled you in, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist, his body cold under your hands. You could hear and feel his heartbeat, still in perfect time with your own. He tucked his chin so it was resting atop your head. His arm hadn’t moved, still cradling the back of your head, pressing you ever so carefully into his chest, the two of you just resting in each others embrace as the rain eased up slightly around you.

There was a beat, as you both relaxed into each other.

“So, I'm glad we solved one problem, but you do know we’re still locked out, right?” Tom says as the pair of you burst out laughing.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom x reader #friends to lovers #lisa writes #this has taken me a ridiculously long time and gone through 12483 rewrites istg but I really hope you guys like it #I always get so nervous posting my work AHH

219 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys

Hello Lovelies! I circled back to my element and wrote a more traditional Mikaelson Boys fic. Did I reuse the theme of a ball? Yes, I am a weak and lazy woman. Did I make the fic completely implausible and touchy? You know I did, they’re vampires and I will let them touch whoever they want (with consent of course). Anyway, it’s honestly just a cute, kinda steamy romance. I altered some of the points from the universe but you have to squint to see where. You know, my entire gambit. You could use this as a prologue for my other fic, Big Decisions, but this is more than fine as a standalone. Anyways, I hope you are all doing well and that this story brings you joy! Until next time <3

Description: Y/n is part of a founding family and gets invited to a Mikaelson ball. Somehow she manages to enamour three of the brothers. They soon discover she has a few secrets that they’re more than willing to indulge.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: Kudos to me I think there are none

Word count: 10k (oops)

Tags: Fluff, smut if you squint (more like nudity)

“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You smile softly at her, swiveling in your chair, “what event? My parents haven’t said anything to me.”

Your family is a founding family, just like Lily’s is. That’s how the two of you became best friends, it was practically destined. You were babies at the same time and your parents brought you to every meeting together. You were inseparable long before you can remember.

Lilly yawns, curling her legs to her chest, “I think it’s some sort of ball. I’m not too sure, I think we got invitations,” Lily rolls her eyes as if the concept of a hand written letter offends her very being, “and they probably just forgot or assumed I would tell you. Isn’t your mom, like, the head of the committee now?”

You nod at her, closing your own eyes for a second, “yeah she’s always got something going on. I swear she forgets she even has a daughter half the time.” You let your mind drift to the other half of the conversation, “Invitations? That’s exciting.”

You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes again. You crack an eye open anyway just in time to glimpse her do that very thing. You giggle lightly, shaking your head.

Always one for theatrics, “careful, Lil, your tomboy is showing. What would your mother think if she could see you up in arms over a silly, little note, hmm?”

She scowls at you before letting the grin crack through, flipping her middle finger up at you and mouthing bite me.

You lean your head back against your chair, “I’m not even sure if mama wants me to come. She hasn’t said anything about this to me. She called me yesterday and it didn’t come up once. Maybe I should just stay here.”

“Not true,” Lily curls her fingers at you, beckoning you to join her on the bed, “she’s just busy these days. Remember how she was when we were little?”

You move to the bed, curling next to your best friend, “you mean how she was always around? She went from helicopter parent to too busy to text me back.”

You yawn, closing your eyes and letting the lullaby of sleep on your limbs sing a little louder. Lily cuddles closer to you, almost gone herself. You wish you could hold onto these moments. These fleeting minutes of comfort in your best friend’s arms. It’ll be gone all too soon. You almost don’t want to fall asleep. Laying next to her feels like the calm before the storm and you want to soak up as much of it as you can. Your heavy eyelids, however, have other plans.

“You’re coming. If I have to go then so do you. I’m sure this weekend will be different,” her voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off, “I can feel it.”

* * * * * * * * *

Sure enough, when you pull into your parent’s driveway after dropping Lily off at her own house, your mother bursts through the door, a wide smile on her face. You let your own smile drown the nerves you’ve been fighting for the last three hours, practically falling out of the car to get to her. She wraps you in a hug, her familiar honeysuckle and lilac scent trickling around you.

“I missed you, mama,” you whisper against her shoulder and she squeezes you tighter for a second before letting go.

“Oh honey,” she crinkles her nose at you, her face the picture of serene joy, “what’s to miss? I’m always right here. I, however, missed you so much.” She leads you into the house, her arm around your shoulders tight, “Tell me all about everything!”

You suck in a breath as you enter your house, letting your shoulders sag as you pass over the door frame. You’re home, finally. You glance around quickly at everything you’ve missed for the last few months. You glance at family photos, most of which include Lily, and the random trinkets your parents have collected over the years. There are a few new ones and you make a mental note to look at them later.

You settle on a stool at the kitchen counter, leaning your head in your hand, “you first, mama. What’s this about a ball? And an invitation, hmm? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Her eyes widen, telling you everything you need to know. She forgot. You really aren’t that surprised. It makes you feel better, at least the reason she didn’t tell you wasn’t because she didn’t want you to attend. Lily was right, you’ll have to let her say I told you so when you see her next.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers, rushing to the foyer, her voice floating to you as she turns the corner, “I’m so sorry honey, it completely slipped my mind. I barely had a chance to glance at my own invitation,” she comes back into view, now with two envelopes in her hand, “here you go!”

She hands you the envelope and you almost gasp at how luxurious the paper feels in your fingers. The cardstock is definitely of the more expensive selection and you blanche. Who on earth could be sending this? You read your name on the card drawn in an elegant script. Handwritten. You had been joking with Lily when you thought that but now, looking at it first hand, it almost offends you as well. You could never write like that.

You open it carefully, making sure to not taint the red seal. You’re pretty sure your heart would collapse if that happened. This has to be one of the most beautiful things you have ever touched. You pull the equally luxurious note from the envelope, your eyes dancing over the paper.

Please join the Mikaelson Family this coming Saturday at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration.

Your heart stops. This coming Saturday. Saturday. As in today Saturday. You whip your head up to stare at your mother, your mouth falling open.

“Mama,” this time your eyes widen, “this is tonight!” you hiss, your brows shooting up, “I can’t attend this! There’s no time, it’s two in the afternoon already!”

She rolls her eyes and for a moment you picture Lily and how she would call you dramatic. You can practically hear her voice. Just wear jeans you princess. You scoff at imaginary Lily. You can’t attend a ball in jeans, not that that would stop her at all.

“You can and you should attend,” she places a finger under your chin, drawing your eyes to meet hers, “the Mikaelson’s are new to town and have invited us. It’s only polite that we attend. Besides,” she winks at you and your cheeks flood with heat, “they are quite the handsome bunch. Perhaps you can end this dry spell? Give me some grandbabies?”

You choke at her words, pulling your face from her fingers with burning skin, “oh my god, mama! I’m almost certain you should not be condoning grandbabies! Besides, I have nothing to wear so I highly doubt I’ll be the one pulled from the crowd. Reproduction rates are looking slim, I am sorry to say!”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling, and you can’t stop yourself from joining her, “alright, alright. No grandbabies. Yet. However, I’m not so sure how you can be so certain when you haven’t even looked at what I picked up for you. I quite think you’re going to change your mind, honey bunch.”

Your laughter stops abruptly as she leaves the room for the second time. You hear her jog up the stairs and your interest is officially peaked. She never jogs. What on earth has she done? You rack your brain, trying to picture what she’s going to show you now. You don’t have much time to sit on your thoughts, however, because soon you can hear her feet on the stairs again, still jogging, now humming a tune you can’t place.

When she comes back into view, your mouth falls open. In her hands is a gown. No, not just a gown. In her hands is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It’s a black, sequined number with a full skirt and a slit that looks like it will rest a touch lower than your hip. The straps keeping it on the hanger are thin, almost nonexistent, and the bodice has a deep but modest dip. When she moves it sparkles like a diamond, catching the sun rays pouring in through the kitchen window. She holds it up, letting it flow to its full effect in front of you, and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

You can feel the tears prickling at the edge of your vision and you silently scold yourself for being so emotional, “mama, where did you get this? It’s too much!”

Her smile falters, minutely, but you still see it and curse silently, “you don’t like it?”

You stand quickly, your eyes wide, “no! That’s not it,” you take the dress from her, afraid it’ll disappear if you don’t touch it, “this must have cost a fortune is all! How can we afford this?”

It’s true, the dress looks like a million bucks and probably costs as much. You’re a founding family, sure, but that doesn’t instantly equate to old money. It doesn’t even mean new money. Your family has never struggled to get by but you also know that something this extravagant would have definitely set your father back a pretty penny. You don’t want your family to waste their hard earned money on something this frivolous, even if it is the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Your mother’s smile returns to its full brilliance and she shakes her head, “it didn’t cost me a thing, honey, don’t worry. Mrs. Jackson down the street owed me a favor and I asked if she had anything particularly pretty laying around. She pulled this from her closet. She also told me to let you know that it’s yours if you would like.”

You hug the dress tiger to your chest, your mouth gaping further, “I can keep this?”

Your mother giggles, bobbing her head up and down quickly. She looks like she’s ready to start jumping. You don’t blame her, you’re half a second away from doing the same thing. You could scream from how ecstatic you are.

“Come, honey,” your mom grabs your hand, dragging you up the stairs with her, “I think it’s high time we start getting ready for tonight, don’t you think? You have some Mikaelson’s to wow!”

* * * * * * * * *

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer.

But not because of the lights.

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.”

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!”

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another room, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. They pop, soothing your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.”

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps to soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide.

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that.

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

You, too, look over her shoulder and your heart stops. The three men from the staircase, the ones who didn’t make your blood run cold, walk towards you slowly, stopping here and there to welcome guests. The tall one catches your eye and you freeze, a deer caught in the headlights. He says something to the other men and they join in looking at you. You swallow hard, your insides doing somersaults at the sight of them. A deer caught in three headlights, it would seem.

You look back at Rebekah, your eyes blown wide from the panic rising in your chest. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes still locked on your best friend. They’re in the middle of a conversation that you haven't been paying attention to. You tune back in just in time to hear Lily ask about the gardens behind the house. You scrunch your nose. What gardens?

“Yes, they’re marvelous,” Rebekah leans towards Lily, a glint in her eyes, “and much less crowded. I could show you around them if you’d like?”

Oh no. No no no. You can see the gears turning in your best friend’s head and the smile that blossoms on her face. You know what’s about to happen and for a moment time stands still. She’s really going to do it, isn’t she?

She looks over at you, tossing you and apologetic squint before meeting Rebekah’s wondering eyes, “I would love that! Lead the way.”

You watch in slow motion as your best friend wanders away, once more looking over her shoulder to mouth a quick I’m sorry. You roll your eyes at her, murmuring a silent you owe me. You close your eyes briefly, tipping the remainder of your champagne into your mouth. You set your glass down as the alcohol swirls in your stomach, adding a kind of weightlessness to your movements. You embrace it, your eyes scanning the ornate walls. What the hell are you going to do now?

A breeze swirls around you, a myriad of spices hitting your nose just as a honeyed voice breaks your daze, “this house was built in the seventeenth century. As a matter of fact, those are the same walls. I do apologize, we’re a little slow when it comes to modernization. I know it can be a lot to take in, if you need another moment to confront them I do understand.”

You turn quickly, your cheeks hot to the touch, and you find yourself inches away from one of the men from the staircase. You bite your cheek, you really need to figure out their names. Up close you see that you were right about him, he does indeed tower over you. You have to bend your neck significantly to make comfortable eye contact. You almost wish you hadn't, though, his dark eyes flooding your chest with butterflies.

“I think I’ve had my fill of the walls but thank you for your consideration,” you pull your wrap tighter around you, clutching it like it's the source of magic that is helping you keep your composure, “and for the history lesson. This house is beautiful.”

He smiles widely, an action so doused in beauty that your head spins, “thank you, it was my father’s. I am Elijah, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” his eyes flit across your face and you can feel the blush begin to creep down your chest, “something which I’m beginning to understand is a terrible misfortune on my part.”

Your heart pounds painfully, your throat dry. This man clearly has a deep grasp on words and knows exactly how to use them. You wonder for a moment to what extent. What would he sound like in a more intimate setting? What words would he use when no one else could hear him?

Your eyes widen, your chest burning at the thought, “I’m y/n. Perhaps you’ve met my mother, Mary-Anne?” you glance around, trying and failing to locate your mother, “She’s around here somewhere, she has a hand in most of the happenings around town so it wouldn’t surprise me if you do know her.”

Elijah’s carmel eyes fill with recognition, “ah, yes, I believe I’ve seen her in town. Never you, though.”

Though he doesn’t ask, the question is clear in his tone.

“I attend university out of town,” you clutch your chest lightly, your fingers curling around the top of your dress, “I’m actually only home for the weekend. My mother was adamant I attend this evening.”

Elijah tilts his head, his eyes flitting quickly to where your fingers slip down your dress. When he looks back at you his eyes are a touch darker than before. Your heart pounds harder as well and you bite your lip slightly, thankful your mother didn’t make you wear lipstick.

“I see. I suppose that means we must give you a night to remember,” his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and the heat that was swirling in your chest sinks lower.

“Indeed we shall, brother,” a voice from your left pulls your attention.

You’re greeted with the blonde from earlier, the one who looked like he was on another planet. Standing in front of you now he looks much more aware. His eyes, a touch lighter than Elijah’s, skim down your dress, lingering on the high slit on your hip before meeting yours again. You suck in a breath but there is no oxygen to be found.

“I do hope my brother is giving you a proper welcome,” his eyes flash, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips, “I wouldn’t want you leaving here tonight without a proper taste of the Mikaelson charm.”

The way he says the word taste, the way it rolls of his tongue, is positively sinful. It hits you straight in the stomach, spreading like poison through your already airy body. It anchors you to the ground, to him. You glance at Elijah who’s already watching you like a hawk. You feel naked under his gaze but, for some reason, it isn’t a wholly unwelcome feeling. You actually kind of like it.

You smile lightly at him before turning back to his brother, “I think he’s doing a marvelous job. His introduction skills, however, need a little bit of a touch up.” You giggle at the glimpse of his furrowed eyebrows from the corner of your eye, “Too much talking about walls for my liking.”

“Ah, there you two are,” a third voice joins your arsenal of men, standing on your right and piercing you with a voice accented enough to make the gods fall to their knees, “hogging all the pretty girls tonight, are we Klaus?”

You meet the eyes of the third man, the one who made laughter look like a gift, and your heart sings. He grins at you, his eyes, much like his brothers’, a warm brown. Having all three of them this close to you is more intense than you could have imagined. They make the room feel smaller. Intimate. You’re not sure if you want to run away screaming or move closer to them. They’re magnetic, you’re just not sure if being pulled in or pushed away.

He takes your hand, an action that sends your heart into overdrive. His eyes light up, as if he can hear every rapid beat of your pulse. You scold yourself inwardly. Don’t be stupid, y/n, that would be impossible.

“I’m Kol,” he brings your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that renders your knees weak against your knuckles, “it’s a pleasure.”

Your heart thunders at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You feel like a schoolgirl, dizzy from the slightest touch from your playground crush. His lips are warm and soft. Is this how princesses feel? God, you need another drink.

“So,” Klaus steps towards you, his eyes swirling with something barely contained, “what’s this I heard about us giving you a night to remember?”

Your heart stops on the spot and you almost choke, not missing any of the implications behind his tone, “I have to head back to school tomorrow is all,” you breathe, trying to play off some of the heat swirling under the surface of your skin, “please, don’t let me keep you from the rest of your guests. I’m sure there are quite a few more important people than me here tonight.”

Elijah chuckles, the sound piling on top of the many other ones you’re already holding tight to, “the guest list is merely a formality, it would really be my pleasure to show you around.”

He holds his hand out to you, his eyes warm but challenging. You swallow thickly, a string of indecipherable emotions rushing through your chest, circling your lungs. You know it’s just a gesture so why does it feel like something more? Why does the thought of taking his hand feel like stepping into the rest of your life? You take a breath, squaring your shoulders and slipping your hand into his. Bring it on, destiny.

“Wait just a moment brother,” Kol’s fingers slip around your wrist, dragging down your palm until your fingers are locked together, “stealing her away from me so soon? I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

Elijah and Kol stare at each other, something wild brewing in their increasingly dark eyes. You tense, feeling like the rope in a game of tug of war. This doesn’t feel like a game, though, this feels real. You’re not a rope to be fought over, you get to decide what and who you want. Even if that’s all of them.

You squeeze both of their hands, drawing their attention back to you, “I’m sure this house is big enough for us to all comfortably go for a tour.”

Elijah’s eyes widen, dragging over you once more as if seeing you properly for the first time all night. He, like his brothers, lingers on the most delicate parts of you for just a few moments longer than he should. It’s a hole in his armor, a hint past the gentleman front. You want to leap at it and pull until all that’s left is the darkness swirling beneath his surface.

You glance at Kol who meets your eyes head on, a toothy grin already on his face, “marvelous, darling. What a great idea.”

He begins pulling you, and by default Elijah, out of the room but you halt, feeling a tad off. You look behind you at Klaus and sigh, your heart heavy. He stands tall but you catch his eyes and the way they glance at your hands, both of which are still being occupied. He squeezes his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. You tilt your head, pouting slightly at him.

“Mr. Mikaelson, are you coming? Time is of the essence,” you nod your head toward the foyer, a coy smile on your lips, “we can’t can’t afford to waste any now.”

His face lights up instantly, walking towards you with flames dancing behind his eyes, “time isn’t real, love. Tonight we have as much of it as we want. As much of it as you want.”

You swallow hard. You want it all.

Kol pulls you towards him, twirling you slowly, making your dress spin around your legs like a ribbon, “where to first, darling? What do you want to see?”

Your hands land on his chest, your cheeks flushed and legs wobbly from the spinning. His other hand goes around your waist, his fingers squeezing gently, his thumb pressing into your side in a way that makes you want to draw his body closer to your own. Your thoughts from before ring through your head. He makes everything sound special. More than that; he makes everything feel special.

“Everything,” you can’t tear your eyes away from his, you don’t want to, “show me everything please.”

He leans down, his forehead inches from your own. You can feel the heat rolling off his body even through his tux. It’s luxurious and mingles with the last dregs of the champagne. When combined with his scent, a nutty blend of cloves and cinnamon, you feel lightheaded.

“Very well, darling,” his eyes flit to your lips, “everything it is.”

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from whatever mischief is brewing beneath Kol’s honey eyes. He tilts his head at the person who grabbed you, his aura turning from playful to down right frosty.

You turn away, breaking the hold of one Tyler Lockwood. Your ex. You squint your eyes. If you were a cat, your hackles would be raised. You wouldn’t claw his eyes out but you would be damn close. Memories from your senior year pour through your mind, twisting your gut painfully. You blink them away. Contrary to Klaus, you don’t have time for this.

“Tyler,” your voice courteous but cold, “what is it?”

He doesn’t catch your tone or, if he does, he doesn’t act like it. He reaches towards you again, no doubt to pull you into a hug, but you back away. Unlike with Kol, you don’t want to touch him. You definitely don't want him touching you. That part of your life is over.

“Y/n,” his voice is light, happy, “I didn’t know you were back! Mom didn’t say anything. How have you been?”

The atmosphere around you thickens. You don’t have to look at the Mikaelsons to see that their shoulders are tense. You feel them take a step closer to you, surrounding you with some much needed warmth.

You clench your jaw, forcing a smile on your face, “yes, well, I didn’t know if I was going to be home this weekend or not. University and all, I’m sure you understand. I’m fine, thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically and you grind your teeth slightly, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole. You dart your eyes to the side, briefly skimming Klaus as he rolls his eyes. Lily would be proud. Kol and Elijah don’t look amused either. You’re not sure how you know but you have to get them away from Tyler as fast as possible. The air drops another few degrees and you shiver.

“Oh well, no harm done!” Tyler steps closer to you, “say, how long are you in town? We should grab a bite at the grill.”

You drop your fake smile, your heart stinging slightly, “sorry, Lily and I are heading back tomorrow morning.”

You feel the boys once again tense, as if they don’t like the information you just shared. You don’t have time to think too hard about it though before Tyler closes even more space between you, grabbing your hand. You flinch back, hitting something hard and warm. The smell of pine trees, a whole forest of them, swirls around you as a hand circles your waist.

Tyler scrunches his brows, his smile slightly faltering, “tonight, then? I would really love a chance to talk. Catch up a little.”

You almost laugh. He just isn’t giving up. He can never make it easy for you, can he? The hand on your waist squeezes and you look over your shoulder, your heart stuttering. Elijah is staring at Tyler, something swirling under his irises. Whatever it is looks untamed. Not in the good way, like how he was looking at you earlier. No, whatever he’s feeling right now is dangerous. Time to go.

“I really can’t, my night has been spoken for. Maybe next time, Tyler,” you turn to Elijah, “Elijah, did you say that you saw my mother looking for me? Would you mind showing me to her?”

Elijah’s eyes sparkle, clearly taking your hint, “indeed, she was right this way.”

He pushes you gently, blocking you from Tyler as he leads you out of the room. You can hear Tyler call out to you but you keep walking. Two other sets of footsteps join you, Kol grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together once more. When you break into the foyer you let the anxiety that had been building drain. That was more exhausting than you would like to admit.

Elijah leads the four of you silently to a room off to the side of the foyer. He pushes the large mahogany door open, ushering you in before shutting it again. The smell of ink and old pages hits your nose and your mouth drops open at the sight. You’re in the biggest library you’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of The Beauty and The Beast, the ceilings high and the walls lined from top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. You break away from the boys, your fingers itching to touch what is no doubt an impressive collection of history.

You hear a chuckle behind you but you don’t turn, your fingers skimming an older looking manuscript. Upon closer inspection the handwritten inscription on the cover reads Vonya i mir. Your heart stops and you quickly pull it from the shelf throwing all common courtesy out the window. This can’t be what you think it is. You flip it over in your hands, taking care not to crack the spine too much. Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy.

You whip your head up, meeting three curious glances with wide eyes, “this is War and Peace! Like, the original manuscript. This is,” your heart pounds, your eyes glued to the yellowed pages in your hands, “this is history. I can’t believe I’m holding this.” Your heart stops, “Oh my, I should not be holding this! This belongs in a museum! What am I even doing, holding it like it’s nothing.”

You set it carefully on a desk behind you, looking apologetically back at them. Your cheeks heat rapidly. It’s very much not like you to go into a stranger’s home and start groping their collectables. You pull your lip between your teeth, lowering your head.

A hand gently grabs your chin, “you didn’t mention you’re a classic literature major, love.”

A small smile toys on Klaus’ lips, his thumb skimming over your jaw. Your heart stutters when he says love, warmth spreading through your chest. You reluctantly move your head from his hand, turning to motion at the manuscript.

“That’s because I’m not. I am a history major, with a focus on Russian culture. I’ve read War and Peace more times than I care to admit,” you smile lightly at the book, thinking about the hours you’ve spent pouring over it, “never in Russian, though.”

You glance back at Klaus, your hand flying once more to your bodice. He studies you carefully, his head tilted to the side.

“And what do you think of it? Do you prefer the war or the peace?” He steps towards you, his words filling the almost nonexistent gap between your body and his.

Your breath catches. He’s close enough to touch and, gods, do you ever want to just reach out and pull him against you. First Elijah, then Kol, now him. You’re really gunning to end that dry spell in one night and three ways aren’t you? Heat creeps up your neck, your ears flaming at the thought.

“You can’t have one without the other,” you glance over his shoulder at Elijah and Kol, both of whom are hanging on to your every word, “war is inevitable but peace,” you look back at Klaus, “peace is fundamental.”

Klaus brushes a strand of hair from your cheekbone, sending shivers racing up your spine, “fundamental to what, love?”

His voice is low, his accent wearing down any reservations that you had at the beginning of the night. Your mother’s voice rings through your ears. Give me some grandbabies. She had clearly been joking but your body clearly has no concept of satire, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of making those babies. You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It does nothing to quench the heat. You’re in the thick of it now and there is no escaping the white hot fire growing inside of you.

You sink your head into his hand, “happiness.”

An arm hooks around your waist, spinning you into a pair of spiced arms. Kol. You crack your eyes open and, sure enough, you’re correct. You shouldn’t have been able to guess that already. You’ve known them for no longer than an hour. This is insane. He lowers his face towards yours and your heart slams against your ribcage, his lips inches from yours. You swallow hard, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket. Instead of kissing you, however, he rubs his nose against yours. Oh. That feels nice.

“What makes you happy, darling?”

You laugh softly, his question catching you off guard, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

“Well then, If you could do one thing that you think would make you happy what would you do?” Kol lifts a hand to your face, his thumb, like his brother’s, skimming your jaw.

You don’t have to think about it, the answer is on your tongue as soon as he asks the question, “I would leave this town,” you glance down, the truth of your statement making you feel all too guilty, “and I’m not sure that I would ever come back.”

His thumb stills and you hold your breath. Perhaps you should have answered with something a little less full on. You haven’t even told Lily that you want to leave and never look back so you honestly have no idea why you just divulged one of your greatest kept secrets to three men you just met. Maybe because it doesn’t matter. Who are they going to tell, right? But no, that doesn’t feel right. You didn’t just tell them because. You had a reason, you just can’t put a name to it.

“I see,” he draws his thumb over your lips, an action that both surprises you and steals the air from your lungs, “and where would you go?”

Again, your answer is effortless, “everywhere, Kol. I would go everywhere.”

Kol smiles, his eyes lighting up with his grin. Your heart skyrockets, fireworks shooting through your chest from the slightest tilt of his perfectly red lips. They look soft; perfectly kissable. If only you had half of his self-assurance. What you wouldn’t give to run the tips of your fingers over his lips.

His hands draw back down your sides, “what was going on back there? You didn’t seem pleased to be speaking to that,” Kol clicks his tongue distastefully, his accent thickening, “boy. Is he the reason you want to leave?”

You pull back slightly, your hands tightening on his coat. How are you even supposed to answer that? The story is a long one and there are very few enjoyable moments to lighten it. Tyler is not the reason you want to leave but you surely wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by staying for him either. He’s part of a long past, one you’re not going to tell them about. Not today, anyway.

“It’s a long story,” you gently remove yourself from his hold, “one that I assure you none of you would care to hear. But to answer your question, no. Tyler has nothing to do with me wanting to leave. That’s entirely my own, for better or worse.”

He nods, the understanding clear in his honeyed eyes, “in that case, darling, tell me something else.” He pulls you back to his chest, “Do you like the stars?”

* * * * * * * * *

They left the party. Their party. They just up and left the party that they were hosting. You’re shocked. You were shocked when they dragged you out of the mansion and you’re still shocked now, laying on a blanket a few miles away with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t thought anything of it when Kol asked you about the stars. You thought he was continuing with his little game of twenty one questions. You didn’t think he was serious! Who the hell just leaves the party they’re hosting?

Elijah shuffles his hands through your hair, pulling pins from it left and right and letting the hardwork your mother put into it fall. Yes, indeed you’re laying across the lap of one of the most eligible bachelors you have ever come in contact with, your face pressed against his warm thigh. Your fingers are wrapped around a bottle of the sweet champagne from earlier.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, your eyes locked on the spray of stars above your head, “when you host a party, it’s usually expected that you attend. Running away is frowned upon.”

He laughs and you can feel it through your entire body. It awakens the butterflies sleeping in your chest, sending them fluttering to your guts where the beating of their tiny wings create an inferno so large it sets you on fire from the inside out. You always wondered what it would feel like to be burned alive. You would have never guessed that it would make your toes curl.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he drags his fingers through your scalp, the final blow to your once styled hair, “to run away. Here’s a start.”

You rub your cheek against his thigh, your face heating when he tenses at your action, “we’re pretty terrible at this running away thing then,” you hum, pulling yourself to your knees, “we only made it five miles. If I focus I think I can still hear the music. We’re lousy escape artists.”

A breeze blows over your shoulders and you shiver, your thin shawl doing nothing to veil you from the night. You’re just thankful it’s still warm enough to be outside at this time of night. Soon the nights will be getting colder and you won’t be able to do this. It’s one of the many reasons you long to move away. A pair of hands draws over your shoulders and you shiver again, this time from something entirely unrelated to the elements. You smile lightly. Maybe not. The Mikealson’s have more than proven that they are a force of nature.

Klaus’ voice is like ocean waves in your ear, cresting your skin with every low syllable, “well this is just the beginning, love. How far we go is up to you.”

He’s joking, of course. He has to be joking, right? You turn to look at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. They burn into yours, no hint of humor anywhere on his face. His gaze pierces through the night and your breath catches, your heart pounding at all the possibilities of what he meant. You bring the bottle to your lips, using the cool liquid to stall while you gather your feelings.

Kol takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth, “So, darling,” he kisses one of your knuckles, his lips like heavenly fire, “how far are we going?” Another knuckle, another kiss, “what is it you want?” He nips lightly at your fingertips and you gasp, the feeling akin to tiny zaps of lightning against your skin, “where do you want to go?”

Your head is spinning, the champagne settling once more over your bones, “I wouldn’t know where to start. There are too many places,” you swallow hard, “too many things.”

Klaus’ fingers toy at the straps of your dress, skimming down your arms with them in tow, “the first place that comes to mind, love. What is it?”

Elijah pulls you towards him, his hand sliding up the slit on your thigh and curling around your hip. His fingers whisper over your bare skin and you tighten your hand on the bottle. Not out of fear, though. No, you use the bottle to keep your hands busy. If your hands were empty you can’t be sure where exactly they would be. On who they would be.

Elijah squeezes your hip and you gasp again, this time louder, “New Orleans,” it’s the first place that comes to your mind, “I want to go to New Orleans.”

Time stills when you finally answer the question. You can hear the wind rustle through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. Three smells, each of their own element, wrap around you. Klaus’, like water, pouring over your back. Kol’s, like fire, burning up your arm. Elijah’s, like earth, sliding down your hips. You, the air, curl around each of them, pulling them close with your very essence.

And then, with a far off howl, time unfreezes and Klaus rips the straps down your arms, “New Orleans, hmm,” He sweeps your hair back, his nose skimming down the side of your neck, “a woman after my own heart. When shall we go?”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the almost reverent atmosphere, “we can’t just leave, Klaus. You have to plan things. I can’t just drop everything and run to New Orleans.”

Kol pulls your arm through the strap, furthering the tantalizingly slow process of peeling the dress from your body, “but you want to, darling. Am I right?”

His lips find the crook of your elbow and you almost moan, “of course you are but it’s not practical.”

Elijah tugs at your hips again, pulling you onto his lap. Kol and Klaus move with you, clinging to you like shadows. Kol’s hair tickles your arm, the soft strands brushing against you as his blazes a trail of open mouthed kisses up your arm. Klaus nips the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped in your hair and pulling lightly. It should feel wrong, you know it should, but by god how could something this ethereal possibly be wrong. Your body feels like it’s made out air and for the first time you’re free to breeze wherever you choose.

“Neither are we. It’s simple,” Elijah leans down, grabbing your jaw and steering you to meet his eyes, “would you like to go, y/n?”

Your heart stops when it hits you that they’re dead serious, “to New Orleans?”

It’s dark but you can still make out the smile on his face. It says it all, his words only reaffirming what your brain has been screaming at you.

“Not just New Orleans, darling, everywhere,” Elijah murmurs, his lips just in front of yours, his peppermint breath fanning your face delicately, “do you want to go everywhere?”

Just like that, your heart restarts, a rush of adrenaline spreading over your bones. Very rarely in life are you presented with the opportunity to go everywhere. You can’t even fathom what everywhere means. Surely there isn’t time to go everywhere, right? You suck in a breath, one that makes it feel like before this moment you were never truly breathing at all. Who cares if there isn’t enough time, you think to yourself.

You slide your arms around Elijah’s neck fast, nodding your head furiously in lieu of all the words that refuse to form a coherent sentence. You tangle your fingers in his hair, the strands like silk against your skin. You don’t take your time to admire it, though, you just yank his mouth to yours, smashing your lips against his and hoping it says everything that you can’t.

His hands squeeze your hips again and this time you don’t hold back, moaning into his mouth with the force of the tropical storm building under your skin. Your dress feels much too tight all of a sudden, the sequined material biting into your flesh. You shuffle, pulling your other arm from the strap before wrapping it back around Elijah’s shoulder, your fingers digging into his back through his tux jacket. That needs to go too. Now.

“Darling,” Kol’s husky voice whispers against your skin, his face buried in the other side of your neck, “as beautiful as you look right now I’m about half a second away from ripping this dress off your body.”

His words barely register but you catch the important parts, peeling your lips from Elijah’s just far enough to utter, “please don’t rip it, it’s the prettiest thing I own.”

His hands, which are curled around the back of your bodice, stall momentarily, “well that won’t do, now will it?” He muses, his mouth skimming your shoulder with each word, “New Orleans is fine, you won’t need many clothes at all I’m sure. But Paris will demand more of us, darling. We’ll have to fix this.”

Your heart shudders, along with your body. Paris. Surely now he’s joking.

He opts instead to use the zipper rather than tearing it apart, his knuckles softly skimming your bare back as it becomes exposed to him. Inch by inch, cool air wraps around your skin. When he gets to halfway, his mouth begins following his hands. He nips at the bumps of your spine, biting down harder when he gets to the base. Your hands, which are still on Elijah’s shoulder, tighten as flames roll through your body.

Klaus’ hands slip around you, tugging this time at the front of your bodice and pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. He pushes the fabric down your stomach, trailing his fingertips over your ribs as you arch into his chest, a string of incoherent praises falling from your lips. You’re pretty sure you murmur his name somewhere in there though, because his chest rumbles against your back and, before you know it, he pulls you up to your feet.

“Klaus, what are you-” your words are cut short from the night, swallowed instead by lips which taste too much like oranges and rum for you to even consider trying to repeat yourself .

His tongue slips into your mouth, his hands flying into your hair, pushing it away from your face and using it to tilt your head to an angle that makes you see stars. The cold air sweeps over your breasts and you shiver again. It doesn’t last long before a pair of hands are sliding up your exposed sternum and over your chest, cupping your breasts. Kol’s cinnamon musk furls in your lungs as he pulls you into his now bare chest. His skin is hot against yours but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the flame made man.

Klaus detaches from your lips, pressing them once more against your swollen mouth before moving down your neck. He pulls your skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the dip in your throat. He courses a river down your front with his mouth, stopping to leave little love bites all over your collarbones and shoulders before heading south. He falls to his knees, shrugging his jacket off before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts.

You moan, loudly, and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him harder against you, “god, you’re too good at that,” you roll your head against Kol’s shoulder as Klaus lips flow over your skin, finding your nipple between Kol’s fingers, “we should not be doing this.”

Another pair of hands, the last pair, pulls your face to a pair of lips, the last pair of lips, “Is that what you think, darling? Do you want us to stop?”

Elijah’s lips skim over yours as he speaks, sparks igniting with each touch. You don’t have to think about his question.

“No,” you press your mouth against his assertively, “please don’t stop. Never stop.”

With that Klaus pushes the rest of your dress off your body and, well, the rest of the details of that night remain between you, Kol, Klaus, Elijah, and the stars.

* * * * * * * * *

You lean your head against the cool leather of the seat, your eyes closed as the wind whips your hair behind you. You’ve never ridden in a convertible before but, much to the trend of Mikaelson fashion, it’s luxurious. Elijah slings his arm around your shoulders and you smile, cracking your eye open to glance at him. His hand is on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He looks peaceful. Happy. He looks over at you, tossing you a wink before turning back to the road. Butterflies flutter through your chest and you welcome them with open arms.

You glance in the rearview mirror, your grin growing when you see two sleeping men. Kol is leaning back, his mouth half open as soft snores fall from his mouth. You giggle quietly. Last night must have exhausted him. He wears his slacks still but now, instead of his jacket, he wears a wine colored hoodie. His hair is mussed and you swallow thickly, thinking back to how it felt between your hands.

You move to Klaus, shaking your head slightly to defuse your slowly heating skin. He, too, no longer wears his jacket but, unlike Kol, he only has a t-shirt on. His arms are folded under his head as he leans against the seat. His body is relaxed, his legs spread in front of him. You yawn looking at him, fighting the urge to crawl over your own seat and into his lap.

“Are you tired, love?” Elijah’s voice mixes with the wind, floating over you like music.

You meet his glance for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “yes but it’s nothing.”

“You should try to sleep,” his voice is slightly concerned, his eyes slipping over your bruised skin before turning back to the highway, “we still have about seven hours before we’re even in Louisiana.”

You stifle another yawn, pulling the sunglasses on your head over your eyes as the sun breaks over the trees blurring past you, “not yet, Eli. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

You hear your phone beep from the bag at your feet but you ignore it. That’s another thing that you’ll wait until the Louisiana state line for. Instead you lift the book on your lap, your fingers skimming delicately over the words on the cover. Vonya i mir. Your heart warms as you open it to the first page, settling into the leather seat. Elijah looks over at you and chuckles, the sound even more musical than last night. This is going to be the easiest seven hours of your life.

639 notes · View notes

migilini · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! Can you do another request for Charlie Gillespie? Can it be the 5 times he tries to propose and the one time he actually does? Thank you!!

Fifth Time Works A Charm - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: I loved writing this, especially because I’m procastinating to write the next Chapter for my Luke ff. I hope you like it as much as I do.

Requests are open!

Words: 3k

Masterlist

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

He knew from the moment he kissed you goodnight on your second date that you were the one he was gonna marry one day. He loved the way you always complained about back pain, yet you never sat normally in any chair and the way you still paid attention to him when he talked about a topic you had no clue on. The spark in your eyes and the curve of your lips when you laughed at one of his awful jokes. Every Morning he woke up next to you was a good one and he loved you more and more everyday. He was totally and completely whipped for you that wasn't the hard part, finding the right moment to propose was.

The two of you were on vacation in Hawaii at the same resort the two of you accidentally met a couple years ago and learned that you actually only lived 30 minutes away from each other. You were laying on the beach, the soft towel brushing your skin slightly, a big sun hat shielding your eyes and face from the hot sun.

Cold drops of water hit your exposed stomach “Baby look, the water is so nice!” more water hit your warm skin. Screeching you sat up and saw your boyfriend standing over you, with a big smile while he wrenched out his hair, letting all the cold water hit you.

“It's cold.” you giggled. “And you're warm!” He dropped on top of you, instantly cooling you down with his cold skin. You tried to protest but he was faster and stronger than you are. Putting his elbows around your face, he lifted some weight off of your chest then he stared at you.

“Hmm? What are you staring at me for?” you asked, amusement evident in your voice. “You just look very beautiful right now. You look relaxed.”

Blushing, you cupped one of his cheeks and responded “Thank you handsome. I am relaxed, really needed this getaway.” He smiled and leaned down a bit to kiss your forehead, your nose and then your lips. You savoured the saltines that lingered on your lips for a second longer before he pulled away. He got off of you and rested on his own towel.

Sitting up a bit more, you pulled out your book and read for a bit, when suddenly something made your toe wiggle. Looking over the border of the book, you noticed that Charlie wanted your attention. You looked at him for a moment, taking in his small smile.

“I have something planned for tonight.” He said and buried your foot in the sand. “Yeah? Care to tell me what it is?”

“Nope that's gonna be a surprise! Let's get back to the room and get ready.”

He told you to get dressed casually yet fancy so you wore your hair up in a bun, light makeup with a bold red lip and a flowy maxi dress. You were sitting on the hotel bed when you heard someone vomiting.

“Babe? You okay?” you questioned and walked to the bathroom door. “Did you eat something weird?” the door opened and you were faced with a pale Charlie. “Oh baby.” a small frown sat on your face when you saw him. “Let's stay in. We can do your surprise tomorrow when you feel better, okay?” Pouting, he shook his head “No. I feel fine, let's go.” he went to grab your hand but you took a small step back.

“Charlie, you're sick. There's no harm in staying in today. Health first, adventures second okay?” His shoulders dropped in defeat, there was no way he could convince you to still go out, so he nodded and followed you back to the bed. But before, in a second that you went to grab a water bottle, he pulled a small black box from his pockets and stuffed it back into his suitcase.

Unfortunately he was sick for the rest of your trip.

You and your boyfriend Charlie were chilling on the couch in the living room. Charlie was responding to some emails while you scrolled through instagram. The radio was on in the background, filling the room with soft music. It was late evening and you put some candles on and turned up your little lights that were scattered all over the place to make it cozy.

Your ears picked up the familiar tune of ‘It's been a long long time by Harry James’ and a big smile spread on your lips. You jumped up, throwing your phone somewhere on the couch and started pulling on Charlie's arm. “Dance with me.”

“Baby I’m working.” he said with a grin, already closing his laptop.

“Please just dance to this song. It's our song babe! Then I won't annoy you the whole day.” you pleaded, jumping from one foot to the other, while still pulling on his arm.

“Okay. Just this song. I know how much you love it.” He stood up, his arms finding your waist as you interlaced your hands behind his back. Your manicured fingers immediately start playing with his longer hair. The two of you swayed to the music, he was humming along to the music, while you closed your eyes. He dipped you, waking you laugh. Then you twirled him around your arm. The song came to your favorite part and you wholeheartedly sang along, beaming up at your boyfriend.

‘Kiss me once’ You gave him a kiss on the shoulder and he kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer into his chest.

‘Then, kiss me twice’ You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his forehead and the tip of his nose.

‘Then, kiss me once again’ finally you kissed his lips. Charlie hummed in approval, tightening his grip on your waist.

Slowly the song came to an end when your phone started to ring. Charlie looked at your expectantly, waiting for you to pick it up.

“If it's important they'll call again.” you muttered with your face pressed against his shoulder. Sadly for you both a second later it began to ring again. Groaning the two of you left your little bubble as you picked up your phone.

“Oh hi grandma. How have you been?” You excused yourself with a swift kiss on his cheek and left the living room, leaving behind a lonely boyfriend.

“We got a special request to play this song today.” The radio host announced “I hope she said yes man!”

You just finished your last exam of the last semester of college. You were done. Finished. Now you only have to wait and see if you're actually gonna graduate or if you have to repeat the semester. Still, you felt like celebrating. Charlie had interview after interview scheduled for today so you didn't tell him right of the bat. You spent the day doing some mundane household tasks and grocery shopping. The moment your boyfriend was finished for the day, he ran out of your office to search for you.

You laid on the couch, watching a new netflix series when you heard footsteps approach. “You’ve done it baby!” he pulled you off the couch and twirled you around. Giggling you answered “I haven't graduated yet.”

“And? You will, I'm sure of it because I have the smartest girlfriend in the world and she just finished her last test. This needs celebration!” he left small kisses all over your face.

Due to the pandemic, you had to stay in the appartement to party. You didn't care though. Charlie ordered something from your favourite italian place and you pulled out the wine from your kitchen cabinet. Somehow the food took ages to arrive and to pass the time you decided to open the bottle.

Wine always had an interesting effect on the two of you, especially on an empty stomach. Charlie got very needy and you always blacked out during the night (He does too but he won't admit it). But the one thing both of you had in common was the touchyness. It wasn't like you two were not always touching when you were sober, it was just that wine drunk Charlie and you took it to a whole other level. By the time you were on your third glass, you wondered if Charlie even ordered the food.

“Could I have this dance with you ma lady?” Charlie held out his hand and bowled a little. You put down your now fifth glass of wine and stood up, taking his hand in yours.

“Oh, yes of course.” This dance was different from the dance you had a couple of nights ago. It was more of a makeout session than a dance. At some point he picked you up, so your legs were wrapped around his torso, yet he still swayed to the non existing music.

“I love you.” You murmured against his lips.

“I love you more.” he said and pulled away slightly.

“No way that's possible.”

“Oh really?” he raised his eyebrow.

“Marry me then.” he whispered looking you in the eyes with a spark in his.

“Yes! I do!” You slurred and kissed him harshly. A smile spreading on both of your lips.

You woke up the next morning with an aching headache and practically no memory of the evening before. You turned over to see Charlie sleeping next to you. You slowly traced the outline of his face. He opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“Hi” he croaked out in his morning voice that still made butterflies rise in your stomach. “Hey. How much do you remember?” You asked him sheepishly. He pulled you in with his arms, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Not much to be honest and i'm guessing you don’t either?” You only shook your head.

“I remember that our food somehow didn't arrive.”

Next time Charlie should really read the text of the restaurant he orders from, because there was a perfectly cooked meal waiting in front of your door.

Charlie missed his best friend and you knew this. So you arranged a little get together with Owen and Jeremy at Owen’s new apartment. Your plan was to drive down from Canada, make a quick weekend stop at Owens and then make your way to your apartment in LA.

Currently it was a monday morning and you were still at Owens. His guest bed was just so comfortable it was harder than normal to get out of bed. On this particular morning, you woke up to an empty side of the bed and some talking from the living room.

Lazily, you put on one of Charlie's hoodies, some cozy socks and a beany. You shuffled to the living room where you assumed the boys would be sitting, not realising that you interrupted a conversation.

“I don't know man. Everytime I have something planned it goes wrong.”

“Look Char, In my experience the chance will… morning y/n.” Jeremy was quick to notice your figure shuffling towards them, your eyes scanning your phone. The boys tensed up and quickly tried to do a normal activity.

“Morning everybody.” You smiled at them. “Am I the last to be up?” you asked and only got noods in return. Still too sleepy to notice the atmosphere, you made your way over to your boyfriend, who was standing at the kitchen aisle, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling your head into his back. Your hands instantly go under his hoodie and on his bare skin to warm your hands.

“Kofe…” you mumbled into his back, barely audible.

“What?” Owen asked, confused while he sat on the kitchen counter, eating a toast.

“She wants some coffee.” Your boyfriend translated with a smile.

“Oh.. I just used the last capsule... I’m so sorry” Jeremy apologized and offered you the last sip of his cup of coffee.

“I’m fine, I'll survive thank you though Jer.” You yawned, releasing yourself from cuddling Charlie, knowing you're not gonna be fully awake without a cup of coffee. Your boyfriend also knew this and eyed you closely, then he leaned over to whisper in your ear that he's gonna get you a coffee after his workout. He looked at you lovingly and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Jesus Christ man, you're whipped. Just ask her.” Owen said while rolling his eyes. The second the last words left his lips all the boys looked at eachother with wide eyes. Owen went to cover his mouth with his hands.

“Ask me what?” You asked in a soft tone and turned to your boyfriend who had a really panicked look on his face.

“I- I-uhm…” he stuttered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Charlie here wanted to ask you if you would mind staying one more day.” Jeremy came to the rescue and sent Owen a mad look, while he pulled one of his arms over Charlie's shoulder, who gave him a thankful nudge.

Your face softened “Of course bubby! If it's okay with Owen it's okay with me, we have no hurry to head to LA. I love spending time here. Gotta teach Owen a few tips and tricks of living alone.” you sent a wink in the blonde boys direction.

At this point Charlie nearly gave up on asking you to marry him, maybe it was a sign from the universe that the two of you weren’t ready for that commitment yet. You were both still so young and just started with your careers.

He looked over at your mess of curls that spread all over the pillow case. The peaceful up and down from your chest and the small smile on your slightly opened lips as you slept. He had to ask you to marry him, there was no way he wouldn't.

The sunlight peeked through the curtains and illuminated the bedroom on this sunday morning in a pretty yellow. You opened your eyes as you heard something shift beside you.

“Where are you going?” You asked, squinting your eyes that still needed to get used to the light.

“Just for a walk baby. Go back to sleep.” He pushed some hairs back that touched your face. Pouting, you put your much smaller hand on his hand that laid on your face.

“Noo. Don't go. Come back to bed.” you whined, leaving kisses on his hand. He sat there for a while, contemplating if he could say no to your face. In the end he sighed and you felt the mattress next to you go down.

“Thank you for staying.” you whispered and pulled him closer, letting your head rest on his chest. His arms wrapped around you and he shifted in a comfortable position, so that you were basically laying on top of him. With the tip of your fingers you drew little constellations on his chest and he played with the strands of your hair.

“Charlie?” You broke the silence and went to look at his face, propping your chin on your hand.

“What's on your pretty mind?”

“When will you ask me to marry you? Or should I ask you?” You finally asked the questions that have been running through your mind for months now.

He stopped breathing for a second, stunned at your declaration. A wide smile broke out on his lips and he started laughing. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Is that such a funny concept?” You asked, slightly hurt. “I thought you wanted to do it in Hawaii but then you were sick and I also heard you and the boys talking about something. Plus I found the ring.” you admitted.

Charlie shifted again so you were both sitting up and facing each other. “You found the ring?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah I put some of your stuff into the drawer and it fell out. I didn't look at it though! I still wanted that part to be a surprise. But you never asked, so im gonna do it, fuck the gender norms. Charlie Jeffrey Gillespie will you...”

“Oh my god. Baby no.” he chuckled and cupped your face, making you stop in the middle of the sentence. “I had so many different ideas planned but something always came in between me actually asking you. So let me do it right.”

He got up from the bed and pulled out the little black box from one of the drawers in your bedroom.

“Uhm… could you maybe stand up?”

You obliged eagerly, your hands shaking like crazy.

And then it was finally happening. Your boyfriend got down on one knee and looked up at you with tears in his eyes.

“This wasn't at all how I originally wanted to do it but now thinking about it, it's just perfect. I knew pretty early on that you were gonna be the girl I marry one day. I know we’re both still very young but I couldn't imagine myself spending my life with anybody else other than you. You're the person I want to wake up next to every morning and the person I miss the most when I’m away. So would you do me the honours and make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” he took out the ring with shaking hands, while you tried to stop the sobbing. You got on your knees as well and cupped his face, whipping away some tears.

“Yes! One million times yes!” You kissed him softly, afraid that this was all a dream. Charlie pushed the ring on your finger and lifted you up, kissing you again and again with a tear soaked face and a smile that hurt his cheeks.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie images #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #jatp #jatp fanfic

266 notes · View notes

alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Lost & Found - 7

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 4.1k

a/n: as always, THANK YOU for reading! Thank you for reblogging (which is literally every author’s dream), liking, commenting (I DIE OVER YOUR COMMENTS/ASKS, THEY ARE THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY) and just reading in gereral! Enjoy!

Chapter 7. Lie to Me

series masterlist

Jimin finds himself robbed of breath as he watches that red thread dancing in the wind, the twin to his own. His heart is unsure of whether or not it wants to beat like a drum or stop altogether, leaving him clutching his chest.

Slowly, so slowly that it almost hurts, he brings his eyes up to the girl’s face. Only catching her side profile, he can’t help but be taken by surprise.

Soft is the first word that comes to mind when he catches sight of her eyes, her cheeks and nose. Her lips are pursed from where she must be biting them, making him emit a choked sigh. Her hair, falling around her shoulders, is deep with color.

He watches with no small amount of devastation as her eyes land on Elle’s figure, the cat already bounding down the stairs to greet her in the street. Coming to a stop, the woman crouches down and sets her groceries beside her. She reaches out to scratch Elle’s ears, and Jimin is unable to do anything but watch as those pursed lips ease out into a soft, beautiful smile.

It’s a smile, Jimin realizes, that he was meant to wake up to for the rest of his life.

Stuck in his trance, Jimin sees the woman pull her phone out and type out a quick message. Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she grabs her groceries once again and begins to trek up the stairs.

Like the sound of a nail being hammered into his coffin, his phone pings with a text notification. He doesn’t look at it just yet, refusing to accept the reality. He keeps his eyes glued to the girl, his heart throwing itself at his ribs with undeniable vigor.

Step.

She turns to head up to the top right-hand apartment, Elle leading the way.

Step.

Now she’s fishing keys out of her pocket, saying something to Elle as the cat leaps through the window with ease.

Step.

She’s pressed up close to the door now, fumbling a little with the lock before the door gives way.

Step.

Making sure she has everything, the girl does a quick inventory of her bags, giving Jimin a complete view of her face for a split second before stepping inside.

Close.

The minutes tick by, but Jimin remains frozen in place, staring at that door with the number 6 hanging from it. The inside of his head turns into a hurricane, not giving him enough time to batter down the hatches before everything comes pouring down. Bringing a shaking hand to his mouth, Jimin finally tears his gaze from the door as it all becomes too much and the tears begin to stream down his face.

It’s there, quietly sobbing in his car, that Jimin realizes that he will be forever haunted by the image of his soulmate. And it’s there, one hand wringing the steering wheel while the other tries to silence his cries, that he curses the cruelty of fate.

Cutting the thread wasn’t enough, he knows that now. Just because his soulmate - Jolie is his soulmate’s name, how can a name be so beautiful? - cut the thread, doesn’t mean that she stopped fate. There are other common threads that bind them together.

Who could have expected it to come in the form of a cat?

Hands shaking violently, Jimin turns the key in the ignition. The bawdy tune on the radio is turned off the instant it comes on, and he’s left staring at his phone that sits atop his console.

Closing his eyes and grabbing it, he does his best to control his breathing. With tears still escaping his eyes, he looks at the message that arrived what feels like eons ago.

Jolie (Elle): Thanks for dropping Elle off! I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for you.

Jimin is at a complete loss for words, so he does the only thing he can.

He calls Namjoon.

✂

“Did you enjoy your night out?”

Elle preens on the kitchen counter, looking like she definitely did. I shoo her away, setting the groceries down and immediately beginning to put them away.

“Well, I’m glad. Good to know I was worried sick over nothing.” When Elle doesn’t begin to miraculously speak, I sigh. “You know, I went and saw that therapist today. The one my boss talked about a couple weeks ago.”

I pause for a moment, staring at the can of soup in my hands. Reading the nutrition label but hardly seeing it at all. It’s still early in the day, but I find myself already at a loss as to what I should be doing with the rest of the day.

“Now that you’re home, wanna go on a fieldtrip?” Elle perks up at my offer, tail lazily swishing back and forth. Putting the rest of my groceries away, I fumble around for my jacket. Then, staring at the envelope Namjoon gave me that still sits on my nightstand, I walk past it and grab a small business card sitting atop my dresser.

I have some homework to do.

If I’m supposed to come to terms with the events of the past couple of weeks, I might as well start with the person that assisted me in this entire process. That, and Christina may very well be the only person that doesn’t want to strangle me at the moment.

Chung-hei and Namjoon are supportive, but they see this as one thing and one thing only: wrong.

Elle is already waiting for me by the door when I reemerge, slipping the jacket on. She bounds out the door as soon as I open it, heading toward the small path that leads toward the park. I chuckle, the sound at odds with the uneasy feeling in my chest.

“Not that way,” I call to the confused cat. “We’re taking a bus to Itaewon.”

✂

Jimin is sitting on a stool by the kitchen island when the boys come stumbling through the door. He hardly flinches at the sudden change, only staring at the marble countertop. Staring at it like it might come up with the answers he needs, but not getting any input.

Namjoon received a call about an hour ago from Jimin, the younger boy nearly hyperventilating into the phone as he told him two things before dissolving into some sort of shocked silence.

“It was her.”

“Help.”

It didn’t take much for Namjoon to piece it all together. He had just been on the phone with Chung-hei that morning, trying to remember if Jolie had a white cat named Elle, and if Jimin was indeed in possession of that same cat.

Chung-hei had confirmed it, although she was just as shocked as Namjoon. What are the odds?

Apparently better than they thought, if Jimin’s current state is any indication.

Namjoon had wanted to stop Jimin, but after a long chat with his soulmate, he decided that it may be best to just let fate run its course.

Now, looking at Jimin who has finally lifted his head, he wonders if he was a fool for letting it go this far.

“Jimin-ah we’re home,” Taehyung announces, heading straight toward the island and taking a stool on his right. Yoongi takes the one on the left, Jungkook settling for wrapping his arms around Jimin’s shoulders and nuzzling his nose into his hair in the way that only Jungkook does.

Jin, j-hope, and Namjoon all weave around to stand on the opposite side of the island, exchanging worried glances. Unfortunately, none of them are experts in severed soulmate bonds. However, they do consider themselves to be Jimin experts.

Hopefully that will be enough.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” The question comes from Yoongi.

It falls silent as everyone waits for Jimin to speak. The quiet seems to be pressing in from all sides, nearly suffocating them.

Raising his head a bit more but not looking anywhere but the countertop, Jimin relinquishes his lip from where he was chewing on it.

“Her name is Jolie.” Jimin’s voice is still a bit shaky, but he pushes forward almost as though this is his only chance to get the words out before they’re forever locked up inside his mind. “Elle is...her cat. She was grocery shopping, I thought she was nice.”

“You talked to her?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin shakes his head. “No...not face to face. I had her number, when I thought I was just texting Elle’s owner. She seemed friendly.”

It’s quiet for a moment until Namjoon can’t fight the guilt anymore. “I’m...she probably is, Jimin. Good people make horrible decisions, sometimes.” He barely gets the words out without confessing all that he knows. He’s dying to, but he can’t. Something stops him, begging him to wait a little longer.

Nodding absentmindedly, Jimin sighs. “Elle loves her.” He stares burning holes through the countertop now. “She ran like a puppy once she saw her walking down the street. I think...she is a good person. So why…?”

He doesn’t need to finish his question, everybody is already thinking the same thing.

“Did she see you?” Taehyung wonders aloud, looking at his best friend with nothing but sweet concern.

“No, I was already in my car. But she...she texted me.” Jimin takes a moment before choking out the rest. “She thanked me for returning Elle. Said that she hoped it wasn’t too inconvenient for me.”

Once again, silence reigns in the apartment. It’s a rare occasion; these four walls are rarely quiet.

Hobi shuffles on his feet. “Have you thought about...you know…”

“What.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Texting her back?”

Jimin finally looks up, focusing on Hobi. “Text her back? What would I even say? Why….why?”

Namjoon jumps in. “I think it might be good, Jimin. It may help you to get some closure? Just get to know her a bit better. Maybe you’ll find out why she made this choice in the first place.” What he doesn’t tell him is that he’s been meticulously checking the mail every day for any sign of Jolie’s letter. If she hasn’t written to him yet, maybe this is another way for his friend to get closure?

Jimin shakes his head. “I’m the last person she’ll want to talk to.”

“She doesn’t have to know that it’s you,” Jin chimes in.

“And besides,” Namjoon continues. “I think that maybe today was some sort of sign. She can’t turn away forever, you know? Fate will always find a way.”

What he was hoping might be uplifting instead has Jimin turning to look at him, some sort of cold fire flickering in his eyes before sputtering out. “I don’t want fate or whatever this is,” he holds up his thread, “to just exhaust her into finally coming back to me! Is it too much to ask that she actually wants to be with me?”

“I didn’t mean it like-”

Jimin rises from his seat, prepared to walk away. “I’m not you, Namjoon!” His voice echoes through the house. “I didn’t get the girl! She took one look at me and thought that it would be better to ruin my life than be a part of it!” Jimin’s chest rises and falls, his breath rattling with the threat of sobbing.

Jungkook keeps his arms wrapped around Jimin, planting him in place. He’s always known Jimin so well; he knew that he would try to run and hide at some point during this conversation, to lick his wounds in peace without having to hurt anyone else. They’ll take it, though. They’ll take all of the barbed words in exchange for some sort of breakthrough. For Jimin to feel something again.

Jimin shakes his head, angry at himself for the tears and sobs that try to break through. “I’m so tired of crying, Namjoon.”

Namjoon remains on the opposite side of the island, unable to come up with anything to say, other than, “I’m sorry.”

But it’s Jungkook who musters up the courage to speak next. He’s quiet, still practically laying on Jimin and knowing that he’ll get away with it. Resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder, he sighs.

“Jimin-ah,” he begins, “You’re right, this is exhausting. But don’t you think that maybe she’s just...scared? And don’t you think she wouldn’t be so afraid if she got to know you? The Jimin that we all know isn’t scary, but all she’s ever seen are the promotions and concerts and suddenly she’s been thrown into a world where the one person that’s supposed to be her’s belongs to the entire world.”

The icy exterior that Jimin had been clinging to melts a little, his chin dropping to his chest. Jungkook sees the encouraging glances from his hyungs, and continues.

“It’s harmless to text her a little bit. Just get to know her. Let her get to know you. You can wait, to tell you who you are. But if you quit now, you will always wonder what could have happened.” Jungkook squeezes Jimin’s shoulders a bit tighter. “Do yourself a favor, and let it hurt a little more now so you can feel better in the future.”

“Rip off the bandaid,” Taehyung mumbles.

Yoongi stares at the countertop as well. “We’ll be here to help you know what to say, if you need help. But just because she shut you out, doesn’t mean that you should return the favor.”

Jimin closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before letting it out. When he opens them again, the pain is still there. Like a splinter caught in his skin. Painful, but not unbearable. Not when he’s got more important tasks to attend to.

He looks up at Namjoon, his cheeks a little red from embarrassment due to his outburst. “I’m sorry, Joon. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.”

Namjoon shakes his head, offering up a small smile. “I know. Don’t worry about it.”

At that moment the doorbell rings, everyone looking at each other with confused expressions. Jimin’s heart rate picks up, his imagination running while.

Did she see him? Does she somehow know what he’s planning to do? Is she angry and here to-

“Chicken!” Hobi shouts, bolting from the kitchen to the front door. Everyone dissolves into laughter, the uneasy tension from before dissolving a little.

Once Hobi returns with several boxes of chicken, explaining that he called for it just before entering the house, they turn back to the matter at hand.

Jimin stares down at his phone, wondering how on earth to begin. Jin coughs around his food before speaking.

“Just start with something that you have in common,” he suggests.

That common thread that is trying to no avail to bring them together.

Elle.

✂

Elle, I have come to learn, believes that she is above taking the bus. She must have gotten a hint of the high life last night with whoever she stayed with.

She’s currently poking her head out of my bag, which she immediately burrowed herself in upon finding boarding the bus. I smirk down at her, keeping my eyes averted from everyone else. It’s nice to have a little friend with me. It helps me ignore all of the people staring at me.

Or rather, my thread.

No one has dared to ask about it. Yet.

It should only take about twenty minutes to get to Itaewon. Hopefully that’s enough time for me to slip away before someone plucks up the courage to talk to me. If they approach, maybe Elle will hiss at them.

Judging by the way she’s nuzzled into my bag, I suppose that may be too much to wish for.

Riding the bus and watching the city slip past through the scratched windows has always been the strangest form of therapy for me. It’s crowded at times, loud and overall an awkward experience for many. However it’s often one of the places where I can just slip away. Dream with my eyes open as street shops and people drift into the rear view.

I’m just entering that dreamstate when I feel my phone vibrate. Slipping it out of my pocket and ignoring the whispers coming from a group of friends a couple of rows behind me, I glance at the new message.

It’s from the person that dropped Elle off, finally returning my message of gratitude.

UNK: It wasn’t inconvenient, don’t worry. If I’d had it my way, I would have hung out with Elle all day. 😸

I snort at the message, leveling Elle with a glare. “Sounds like you two are close.” Elle stares back up at me almost as though challenging me to do something about it. I roll my eyes. “You think you’re wrapped around their finger, huh? Watch and learn, princess.”

ME: Did you use the cat emoji bc of Elle or are you the kind of person that regularly uses cat emojis??

I wait with my phone in my hands, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I watch the person on the other side appear to be at a loss. Those three dots pop up for a moment before disappearing again.

It happens again and again, and I finally decide to put my phone away instead of watching them struggle to make up their mind. There’s only about ten minutes left of the trip, anyway.

Another five pass before my phone vibrates. Giving Elle a pointed look, I take a look at the response.

UNK: ...so what if I use cat emojis?

UNK: they’re there to be used, you know. Maybe you should quit ignoring them and give them a chance. 😿

“Ha!” It takes a moment before I remember that I should try my best to not appear like a crazy woman. “See?” I whisper madly. “They’re practically begging me to keep chatting.”

ME: Wow.

ME: I feel like you took that very personally. Elle didn’t tell me that you’d be like this.

There’s another stop, a few people getting off but many more getting on. Most of them sit down without sparing me a glance. Only when they’ve all settled down and gotten lost in their conversations or phones do I allow myself to relax.

UNK: are you the kind of person that talks to their cat??

I give a startled chuckle, delighting in the distraction this conversation is allowing me. Before I can fire off a response, another text comes through, making me stifle a laugh.

UNK: 😼

Maybe it’s the silly conversation, or the fact that Elle has gotten to a position where she can rub her head against my leg. Maybe it’s the view outside, the late afternoon sun pouring down on the people outside, and me, watching the world through the bus window.

For the first time that I can remember since I cut my thread, life seems a bit more manageable.

I feel like I can breathe.

✂

Jimin can’t breathe.

Not with the way all of the members have crowded around him on the couch, Jin still munching on some chicken while he peers over Jimin’s shoulder.

“I liked that last text. It was a nice touch,” Yoongi croons from Jimin’s side. “Gotta stick to a theme.”

The others grunt in agreement, hardly noticing the absolute strangeness of the situation. Taehyung slings his arm around Jimin on the other side, never once looking away from Jimin’s phone screen. He hums to himself while they wait for those fated three dots to appear.

Jungkook’s neck is about to break from the way he’s craning it, sitting on the floor before Taehyung’s legs. It’s a miracle that he can see anything at all.

“Is she texting yet?” He asks, hissing as he rubs a sore spot on his neck. He gives up trying to see what’s going on, facing forward again. Hobi, sitting beside Taehyung, automatically reaches down and begins massaging the younger’s neck.

“No, not yet,” Hobi sighs. “I wonder what - OH SHE’S TEXTING!”

Everyone presses in closer to Jimin, the boy in question gritting his teeth with anticipation. “Do you think she suspects? Have I been too obvious?”

Jin produces another chicken leg from somewhere, offering a bite to Namjoon who doesn’t hesitate to chow down. “No, she doesn’t. You’ve been totally aloof.”

“Yeah, you’re good,” Namjoon says around his food.

Together, the seven of them stare at those three dots rippling across the screen. When they disappear for a moment, everyone groans. It doesn’t take long before they reappear, and suddenly a message appears.

“What does it say?!” Jungkook scrambles to his knees, struggling to get a good view.

Jimin groans, shouldering his way forward until he’s leaning in front of everyone. “Shh, let me actually read it.”

Jolie (Elle): Haha, touché. I feel a little weird texting an unknown number...do you have a name I could save you under? Or should I just settle for a cat emoji?

“...what do I do?” Jimin turns to face the others, a flicker of panic painting his features. “I can’t tell her that it’s actually me...she’ll quit talking to me!”

Yoongi shrugs, completely unbothered. “Just give her a fake name. Like, Jaemin or something. Close enough.”

“Ha! Yeah, do Jaemin. Reminds me of James Corden trying to say your name,” Jungkook cackles.

Jimin looks at the other members with big eyes, waiting for some other offer. Something better. Taehyung pats his shoulder.

“I know you hate lying but...I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

Sighing, Jimin types in a response. He holds up the phone for everyone to see, waiting for their grunts of approval before hitting send. A knock on the door has everyone except for Jin turning their heads.

“Don’t tell me you ordered something else,” Namjoon gripes. Jin just chuckles quietly, reappearing a few moments later with an armful of boxes. Jimin recognizes them immediately: it looks like an assortment of churros and other treats.

“Hyung,” Jungkook watches the procession with wide eyes. “What’s this?”

“Would you go grab the rest?” Jin asks instead of answering. Jungkook leaps to his feet, bounding toward the door where more treats await. His shouts of excitement drift back to the boys.

When everyone gives Jin an appalled look, he just shrugs his shoulders. “What? I figured that we’re going to be here for a while. Might as well get comfortable.”

✂

UNK: No, I won’t make you stoop so low as to use a cat emoji. Park Jaemin should work fine.

I nearly stumble down the steps of the bus as I make the mistake of pulling my phone out to see the latest response. Once Elle and I have made it safely to the sidewalk, I proceed to stare at my phone in utter horror.

Rereading that name again and again until I’m sure that I’m reading it correctly.

Why did it have to be such a similar name?

There’s a slight tremor to my hands as I try to come up with something to say. Saving the number, I take a deep breath. Elle watches me from the safety of my bag, mewling softly.

“Gimme a sec,” I sigh. “Is this some sort of cruel joke?” My mind is spinning too quickly to think clearly, so I pocket the infernal device and take a moment to orient myself. Heading down the street, I wait until I’ve made it a block before attempting to form a reply.

It would appear that my new friend is a little impatient. By the time I stop on the corner, there’s already another text waiting for me. The new contact name has me gritting my teeth, but I push past the initial shock that rocks me.

Park Jaemin 🙀: Unless you don’t like that name? I could always choose a different one.

“He’s a little...weird.” I glance down at Elle, who seems inclined to agree with me. “But nice, I think.” Mustering up all of my courage, I punch out a reply and send it before I can think twice about it.

ME: That’s fine. Jaemin it is. I just didn’t realize you were a guy? Elle always seemed wary of guys.

I set off down the street, finding it a bit different in the daylight than it was at night. That, and this time I’m not a hyperventilating mess. It doesn’t take long before I’m turning down an alley that I realize I’ve been seeing in my dreams lately, heading toward the tell-tale gray apartment with the warehouse attached to it.

There’s another text notification reaching my ears, but I ignore it for the moment. Knocking hard on the door, I wait to hear footsteps.

It takes a couple of attempts before a distant voice shouts, “Coming!” A few seconds later, the door is cracked open to reveal a disgruntled Christina.

She gives me a long look, recognition sparking in her eyes even as she looks entirely unimpressed by me. She eyes Elle, who stares right back at her.

“You know I don’t do refunds, right?”

There’s another text coming through, but I ignore it again. Instead I plaster on my best smile, which Christina sees right through.

“I know. That’s not why I’m here.” Glancing up and down the alley, I rub at my arms. Fighting off the sudden chill. “Mind if I come in?”

Previous - Next

main masterlist

taglist is open! let me know, or click on the link in the series m.list or navigation!

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @eusticenatalie @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @hesmyphenominiall @onewoneman @preciouschimine @missseoulite @marianeamine @somewhereinthestarss @chubsjmin @daydreamerwestwood @010op10 @4evahevah @mawwnsterr @hikka-light @biasnation @betysotelo18 @shhhhsecwet @channiespup

#bts fluff #jimin fluff #bangtan #jimin x oc #bts x oc #jimin angst

91 notes · View notes

before-we-get-started · 4 years ago

Photo

My Favorite Mistake Pairing: Colin Shea x Reader Word Count: 3525 Warnings: Fluff, angst Image by pinterest.com “You sure you don’t want to meet us later? We should be done with dinner by 8.” “No thanks.” “Y/N, you haven’t been out in weeks. You can’t just stay in that apartment all the time. Put on that cute black dress and meet us at Rave’s.” You pulled the blanket up higher around your chin, making sure it covered your socked feet on the coffee table. “It’s ok, I really appreciate it but I’m really comfy here. I’m gonna check out a new series on Netflix.” Your friend sighed through the phone. “Ok. Call me if you need me, ok?” “Thanks,” you said, ending the call and tucking the phone under the blanket in your lap. It was 7:30 on a Friday night and you were alone, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s serving as dinner as you surfed the TV for something good to watch. It had been exactly three months. Three months since your heart was shattered, three months since you thought your world had ended, three months since you’d allowed yourself to enjoy anything. Everyone warned you, including a few friends that had traveled the same road. Colin was trouble. While everyone agreed he was dangerously sexy and incredibly handsome, everyone knew that for Colin, variety was the spice of life. He’d even told you that he tried one time to settle down with someone, and it was so painful when it ended, he would never do it again. That didn’t stop you though. You’d never forget the moment you’d met him – you were moving in to apartment 6C in a gorgeous, historic building in Boston. It was your first place of your own – your folks were so proud of you and helped you get moved in. On day 3 in your new place, your world changed. You were stepping out your door for work when your neighbor in 6A opened the door to grab his newspaper. He was naked but for a flowered bathroom towel that he held to keep his privacy. He was tall and lean with defined pecs, muscular arms, spiky blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean. And then he smiled, a million watts reaching across the banister to your apartment. “Good mornin’ 6C. I’m Colin,” he’d said in that delicious deep voice. Somehow you’d managed to squeak out your name, trying hard to breathe and keep walking. You had to pass him to get to the stairs, trying not to trip and fall or make an idiot of yourself. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he said as you made your way down the stairs. “I hope so,” you’d replied, your voice sounding stronger than you imagined. A corner of his smile turned up and he gave you a little salute as you headed downstairs. True to his word, he’d knocked on your door that night with a bag of Chinese food and you’d invited him in. You played hard to get that night, even though the four beers and those blue eyes nearly broke your will. But on Friday, when he knocked again, you didn’t even make it through the tacos he brought over. Before you knew it, you’d gone from deep kisses on the couch to your bed, where you fell asleep wrapped around his body after hours of incredible sex. When the sun came up that Saturday morning, you blinked your eyes as you awoke, looking up at the most handsome face and long eyelashes you’d ever seen. You’d kissed his cheek, then peppered his neck and shoulders with kisses, releasing him from sleep and encouraging him to take you again. You’d wrapped your legs around him and he’d carried you into the bathroom, where you ran a hot bath and the two of you snuggled under the bubbles for an hour. The next few days you were inseparable. As soon as you got home from work, he was there. Most every night he stayed in your bed. More than once you’d watched the glow of the sunrise on your bedroom walls as you and Colin couldn’t get enough of each other’s touch. You’d watched some movies, binged a couple of shows, and shared the kitchen preparing some of your favorite recipes. You’d also talked, and talked, and talked. You told him about your ex, the guy you thought was “the one,” even though you certainly never felt for him what you did when you were with Colin. He told you about Allie, who had lived in your apartment before. He’d fallen hard for her and thought maybe he should think about settling with one girl, but she’d broken it off suddenly, and later he learned she’d eloped with one of her exes. The hurt in his eyes had been unbearable. That night you’d made it your quest to make him forget her – he’d called your name more than once and you’d held on to him tight, kissing him with enough passion to wipe out the sad memory of her. There was something so thrilling about being with him. Most of the time you didn’t have a plan, and you loved how each time with him would unfold. You’d spent a few evenings listening to your favorite tunes on the roof of the building, dancing under the moonlight. Colin was always working on songs for his band. He’d strum the guitar and you’d listen intently - you’d even helped him with lyrics on a few. One night Colin texted and told you he had plans and wouldn’t be able to see you. You’d texted back and told him to have a good night, happy to find him waiting at your door the next night after work. A few times he’d left to spend then night at his apartment. You’d noticed he’d checked his phone and figured he had something on his calendar for the next morning. You’d mentioned him to your girlfriends and gotten more than one eyeroll. “How many of you have slept with Colin?” your friend Jenny asked your friends at a bar one night. A few raised their hands. “I’m not stupid,” you’d responded. “I know he likes girls. We’re just friends with benefits.” The words came out, but you knew they were a lie. You were in love with him. Head over heels, heart and soul, forever and ever in love with him. You were in love with a total player who made it his goal to sleep with every girl in Boston. And so, on the morning of the 6-month anniversary of your first evening together, the truth had reared its ugly head. You’d spent the night before at your parents’ house after having dinner with them and had run home to get ready the next morning before heading to work so that you could bring him a gift. You’d picked up his favorite cannolis from the local bakery. You knew he was probably still asleep so you hung the bag on his door and texted him to check when he woke up. As you left for work, you heard a giggle across the hall. A girl opened Colin’s door and peeked around the edge, grabbing the bag of cannolis from the doorknob. You heard his laughter behind her as she closed the door. You froze. You couldn’t catch your breath. Your knees were weak. Tears burned at your eyes. The next few moments were a blur. You marched over to his door and knocked softly. You heard a rustle, then he was there, bare chested, wearing your favorite ripped jeans. “I hope you two enjoy your breakfast. I’m glad I went out of my way to bring it to you on a day that at least means something to me.” You turned on your heel and rushed down the stairs, ignoring him calling your name. You’d broken down on the train, dabbing at the tears to try and save your makeup. The older lady next to you patted your arm as you pulled yourself together. Your phone had dinged all day. Text after text from him, none of which you read. You were upset, but mostly mad at yourself. It was your own fault. He had told you himself that monogamy wasn’t his thing. But it had been impossible not to believe he felt something for you every time the two of you came together. The way he looked in your eyes, the way he held you so close, the way the two of you were entangled for hours on end. Could it really not be more than just sex? That night you’d stayed with a friend, leaving from her house the next morning for work. You’d left work early and slipped into your apartment in the afternoon, changing into his t-shirt and climbing into bed. You’d slept through to the morning, trudging in for another day at work. You couldn’t help but wonder what was happening behind his apartment door. It was unbearable to think of him holding someone else, kissing them the way he kissed you. For weeks, you’d managed to avoid seeing him. More than once you’d heard him come home, then heard a soft knock at your door, but you didn’t answer. There were so many text messages. “Good morning Y/N. Hope your day is good.” “Good night, sweet dreams.” Worst of all, lots of “I miss you” texts that made you want to open the door the next time he knocked. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to just accept that you’d take what you got from him and be happy with it. But knowing that you might be his Thursday and another girl would be his Friday was just too hard. How could he kiss you in that spot on your throat that drove you crazy, and then do the same thing for someone else? How could something so intimate not mean more to him? So for three months, you’d been miserable. Friends had tried to set you up on a couple of blind dates, your mom had even tried to introduce you to one of your dad’s associates, but you just weren’t ready. And now you were sitting home on a Friday night, wrapped up in frumpy sweats and a blanket, feeling sorry for yourself. You didn’t know exactly what got into you but you threw the blanket off and headed for the bathroom. You peeled out of the sweats, turned on the curling iron and grabbed your makeup bag. In 20 minutes you’d pulled on your favorite little black dress, applied makeup for an evening out, curled your hair and grabbed your beaded clutch. You slipped on your strappy high heels and headed for the door. You’d text your friend and let her know you’d be at Rave’s to meet them. As you opened the door, you stopped cold. Colin was in front of you. He had on gray slacks and a pale blue button up shirt, the first three buttons open. His hair was styled, the thin silver chain of his necklace and the tattoo on his chest peeking out from his shirt. His ocean blue eyes lit up when he saw you. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. You smelled the musky scent you loved so much. “Hey,” he said shyly. “You look amazing.” He licked his lips as he looked you up and down. You went from startled to smug in a few seconds. “I’m on my way out,” you said. “Meeting some friends tonight. Mind moving out of my way?” He hesitated but stepped aside. You brushed past him, looking over your shoulder at him as you rounded the banister. “Y/N, I really want to talk to you.” “Not tonight,” you said confidently, descending the stairs. The club was rocking when you got there and the girls were all glad to see you. You took advantage of all the free drinks they were supplying and did your share of dancing, including a couple of slow dances with hot guys that were knocking each other over to flirt with you. When one asked to walk you to your Uber, you agreed, and took him up on making the ride to your apartment. He’d taken your hand as you ascended the stairs to the 6th floor, chatting and laughing all the way up. You fished in your clutch for your keys when you heard the door behind you open. Your escort put his hand at the small of your back and pulled you in for a kiss just as Colin peered out. You opened your eyes just as he started to close his door. You saw that sadness, the same sadness you’d seen when he’d told you about his broken heart. Your escort started to turn the key but you stopped him. You thanked him for walking you up but said you needed to call it a night. He gave you another kiss and you exchanged phone numbers, then he headed down the stairs. You let out a huge sigh as you stared at 6A. You thought the night out would help extinguish the fire but it continued to rage inside you. You walked over and gently knocked. You held your breath as you watched the door knob turn. “Hey.” “Hey.” “Can I come in?” He pulled the door open a bit more so you could step in. He stood still, looking down at his feet. You pushed the door closed. “Why were you dressed up tonight?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I had a date.” You felt your heart sink a little. “Oh. How’d it go?” “I don’t know.” You cocked your head a little. “You don’t know?” “Nope.” You shook your head a little. “Why don’t you know?” “Didn’t happen.” You blew out a sigh, a little frustrated. “You had a date, but you didn’t have a date.” “Right.” “Ok,” you said. Maybe it was a mistake coming over. You turned towards the door. “Well, sorry to bother you, just thought I’d say hi.” “Don’t you want to know why it didn’t happen?” You sighed. “Sure, I’ll bite. Why didn’t it happen?” He stepped toward you, then put his hands on the small of your back, pulling you closer. “I went to ask her and she was on her way out.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked into those ocean blues. “Where’d she go?” “I don’t know,” he said gruffly, “but she didn’t come home alone.” “Hmm,” you hummed, “wonder if he likes cannolis?” He looked down for a minute, something flashing across his face. Guilt, maybe? To his credit, he met your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” You’d hoped to hear those words for so long. You hoped he’d at least acknowledge that he’d hurt you. “I was an ass. Easily the most asshole thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying a lot. I’m sorry.” You let out a quiet chuckle. “Definitely a move that will get you in the Asshole Hall of Fame.” It was his turn to laugh and he met your eyes again. “I was scared,” he said. “Scared? Scared of what?” “Of us,” he said. Your eyebrows scrunched in surprise. “What do you mean?” He let out a huff of air and squeezed your hips a little tighter. “You and I, we were really good. I got so used to being with you. Everything about you made me happy. And I got scared. I tried feeling that way before and it broke me. I had to put some space between us.” “So you let some bimbo eat our anniversary cannolis?” He laughed a little, dropping his head and shaking it. “Yeah. I know. I’m a shit.” “Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. “I tried to talk to you. Tried to apologize. I texted, came over a few times. It was clear you weren’t interested in hearing what I had to say. So tonight I decided to step it up.” You felt tears burn at your eyes. You wanted to stay strong and blinked them away. “I did something incredibly stupid,” you said. “Yeah?” “Yeah. I fell in love with you. Even though everyone told me and everything inside me knew I shouldn’t, I did. All of those times being with you,” you said, your eyes glistening with tears. “All of those kisses, all of those touches, they meant something to me. More than just hooking up. I let myself believe they meant something to you too,” you said. “They did,” he said softly in that deep, sexy voice. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your chin and gently touching his lips to yours. You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling. You pressed your hands to his chest. He deepened the kiss and you instinctively let your hands slide up and encircle his neck, burying your fingers in the hair there, pulling it a little between your fingers. A soft moan escaped him as he pressed his body closer to yours. He dropped his hand to your hips again, pulling you so close you could feel him through his jeans. Sirens sounded in your brain. You were letting yourself fall down this hole again. You knew how hard it had been to climb out. You gently pulled out of the kiss, licking your lips and rubbing the tip of your nose on his. “I can’t,” you said, a tear escaping your eye. He pressed his forehead to yours, pulling his hand behind your head and caressing your soft hair. “Y/N.” There was no sound like that of your name on his lips. It was like music. You felt yourself shiver as you fought with everything you had not to melt into him. “I want more than you do. It’s too hard. It’s not your fault, it’s just how it is. This – hurts,” you said, a soft sob escaping. “I want it too.” You felt a sad smile cross your lips. “Not like I do Colin. I want all of you. Everything. I don’t want to share. I don’t want you to touch anyone else.” You gently ran your hands up his chest. “I don’t want you to kiss anyone else,” you said as you pressed your lips to his. “I don’t want you to find that special place on anyone else,” you said, pressing your lips to that place on his neck that drove him wild. He growled deep in his throat, encircling your waist with his arms. “Y/N,” he breathed. “It’s ok,” you said sadly. “I was lucky to have you while I did. Most people don’t get to feel what I felt with you.” You ran the backs of two fingers down his cheek, letting yourself dive into those eyes. Every inch of you felt warm. “What if ��“ he started, then hesitated. “What if we start again. And I don’t fuck up this time.” You let out a low laugh. “You’d just be setting us up for failure. It’s ok Colin. I don’t –“ His fingers circled your wrists and he covered your lips with his. “It’s not ok. I hurt you.” He kissed you again, this time a little deeper. “It took me seeing you with someone else to really get it. I’ve missed you so much. But seeing you tonight – I just ache. Please tell me we can try again.” He smothered your mouth with his, sucking gently on your bottom lip. “Please Y/N.” You tried taking a breath but it caught in your throat, your heart beating wildly. You’d be a fool to do this again, put yourself out there for more. How did that saying go, insanity was doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result? “Colin –“ “I love you.” You blinked at him, certain you’d just imagined it. “What?” He smiled, that smile that could light up the entire city. He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and let his fingers linger on your earlobe. “I,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Love,” he said, pressing his lips to the apple of your cheek. “You,” he said, locking onto your eyes with his, then gently kissing your lips. “I love us.” You leaned into him, burying your face into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m afraid.” He pulled you to him, stroking your hair, a hand at your lower back. “I know baby,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.” You let yourself melt into him more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go. “What if – what if you get scared again? What if I’m not what you really want? What if you wake up one morning and look at me and realize I’m a mistake?” You felt his chest rumble with a little laugh. “Trust me baby, you’re my favorite mistake.” He pulled back and kissed you, and you let yourself melt into the love of your life.

#chrisevans #colinshea #whatsyournumber

65 notes · View notes

pearl-blue-musings · 4 years ago

Text

Never Been Kissed: Hizashi Yamada

HI I’M ON A ROLL

so this combines NYE and Valentine’s Day soooo yeah

Pairing: Hizashi Yamada x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~

Conflicting schedules had always been a problem in your relationship, but it never stopped either of you. Sure you had made plans with your boyfriend for your first Valentine’s together, but plans always change.

Your work hours got shifted around again.

He had to work extra hours at the radio station because someone else requested time off. It was always something.

But that’s how the two of you worked.

You knew being in a relationship with the radio hero and teacher Present Mic would me taxing, whether emotionally or mentally. It was hard dealing with his early mornings and late nights, but you persevered. You just thought that maybe you’d be able to spend time with him on a day that meant a lot to him. You weren’t too surprised that he really and truly loved this day. With how loud he shows his emotions, you figured this holiday was perfect for him.

But his softs were always the most serene softs you’d ever experienced. Everyone knew Present Mic, but few knew Hizashi Yamada. And you were one of the lucky few to know him. You knew him not just as a person and hero, you knew him intimately. I mean, of course you did, you’ve been together for over a year! Like the cheesy man you know him to be, he had planned it out all perfectly during a New Years Eve show. You had been on a few dates but nothing had been official, so you were surprised he had invited you to see him do his show. He had wanted to spend the holiday with you but had to work so he thought, why not both?

The night was going swimmingly, filled with laughter and nostalgia as he recounted events that had happened all the while playing incredible music tied with great stories either from him or his little listeners. You were in awe, seeing him in his element and thriving; it was a sight to behold. Hizashi was like a siren and you were the unsuspecting victim and it was honestly a sensation you wanted to happen more and more.

Midnight was a second away and he had begun the count down be saying various quotes and well wishes for the new year. You were simply enjoying yourself when it was down to the final 30 seconds and he spoke up.

“Alright little listeners the time has come! Just under 20 seconds until the new year! Grab your sweetheart, your best friend, your pet, and give em a smooch at the count of zero! And don’t worry,” he looks over to you at the 10 second mark and announces, you think, only to you. “I’ve got my girlfriend here to kiss so no kisses from you all to me, ya dig?”

He leaves his desk, clicking the right settings to mute himself so he can whisper to you. “What do you say? Be my girlfriend?”

You’re stunned and just nod frantically, unsure of what to do as you saw zero approach on the clock. Hizashi unmutes his mic and safely yells, “Happy New Year!” before quickly muting and bringing you into sweet kiss. He tasted like mint chocolate and the thought sent shivers down your spine.

It was weird to you that this year was going to be your first Valentine’s Day together, despite being in a relationship for a year. The previous year he had to work and you had a family emergency, so he knew to not push it onto you. But this year Hizashi wanted to spoil you like the queen he knows you are.

But Present Mic always had his late night Valentine’s show that was a hit and he couldn’t miss it.

When he told you, you smiled nicely and told him it was okay. And it really was! You weren’t too big on the holiday yourself but you knew he was. On the day, you woke up to an array of flowers and cute little love notes left all over your room. You giggled to yourself as you walked into the kitchen, knowing he was already at U.A., and you see something boxed up on the counter.

Hey baby girl!

I made your favorite early this morning, but I’m sad I can’t eat it with you! I can’t wait to see you tonight my songbird!

Your Hizashi

If it was possible to love this man more than you already do, then this might’ve been the tipping point. You were overjoyed at his little acts of love that he showed you, knowing he won’t be coming in until practically midnight and it made your heart flutter.

At the end of your work day, you had already gotten a few text messages and calls from him reminding you that he loves you so much. And when you got to your newly shared apartment, you were greeted by a gigantic teddy bear with balloons and another card.

Sweet baby,

I didn’t mean to check your browser history but I know this little, well big, guy has been on your mind for a bit. But check what he has in his paw! I’ll see you later tonight baby!

Your Hizashi

You’re relieved no one saw the happy and flustered dance you did outside your apartment door as you shuffle in all the items your doting boyfriend bought you. Once your shoes are off and you’re more adjusted, you open the envelope. “What!?” You yelled to no one.

He had gotten you tickets to a spa and hot springs for a whole weekend?! And it’s the one you’ve been dying to go to? You quickly dial his number.

“My favorite listener!”

“You’re gonna kill me Hizashi! I-I mean, the spa, the food, everything! God, I love you.”

You hear him sigh and hum contentedly. “Anything for my lovebird! And there’s one more surprise, but you have to be listening to the show at exactly 8:55 okay?”

You nod into the phone and tell him you love him again before hanging up. You were positive you had all the ingredients for his favorite meal and dessert and you couldn’t wait to make it for him and have it ready for when he comes home. The first time you had made dinner for him after a late night radio show was one of the softest and happiest you had seen him. And in turn when you’ve had late shifts he’s done the same for you.

You had decided to wait until later to make his food, so you watched a couple movies and ate some leftovers to tide you over before making your special meal. You knew it would take about an hour for everything to be ready and since he comes home around 9:30 these nights you began your meal prep around 8:30.

25 minutes later you tuned into his show while taking a break to change your clothes and put on a robe. While you were changing you heard his voice coming in loud and clear.

“Listeners, it’s almost time for me to go but I have a quick story, okay? Over a year ago, I asked my beautiful wonderful girlfriend to be mine and she said yes! We even had our first New Years Kiss then! We’ve been together ever since, but this is our first Valentine’s together. And you all know how much I love this holiday!

“Her father had passed away the week before so we didn’t do anything. I was honestly afraid to express how much I love this day but she constantly reassured me that it was okay. And so I waited, ya dig?”

You almost dropped whatever was in your hands at hearing him through your speaker. What, just what is he doing?

“So this year, I’ve gone all out! But everything I did, I kept her and her family in mind! I sent her mom and grandmother everything I had given her today! My girlfriend didn’t know that but now she does! She’s really the best, you know? She’s even supporting me working today and everyday! I couldn’t have asked for a better gift than her. And I know today is hard for her, but that’s why I gotta pump it up for her!

“I love you, sweetie, and I can’t wait to see you when I get home.”

Hizashi was more than eager to make it back to his apartment where he knew the love of his life was waiting. His show was more tiring than usual but he knew he could endure it for you. He had already washed his hair and changed clothes at the station before coming home. Before entering, he could already smell the food you had made and his mouth began to salivate.

He presses his way into the apartment, and was thrown off. You weren’t in the kitchen. The table was set with candles and the food but where were you? He hopes you’re not upset over what he did or worse yet, crying because of your father. “Baby girl?” He asks the air, but is relieved when he hears you respond from your bedroom. “I didn’t see you in the kitchen or at the table so I got concerned because I-“

Rarely is Present Mic left speechless.

Rarely is Hizashi Yamada left speechless.

But here he is, stunned into silence at seeing you, donned in what he dubs the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen. Sitting on your bed, no kneeling, so he can see all of your body covered in lace.

You whisper out while your own hands roam your body. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.

“Come unwrap your gift.”

~~~~~~~~~

@cupcake-rogue @spicy-spooder

#hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #yamada hizashi #yamada hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #present mic #present mic x you #i did the thing #my writing #never been kissed #female reader #fem!reader #present mic x fem!reader

95 notes · View notes

goldenretriever-nicknelson · 4 years ago

Text

Pieces of us [H.O]

A/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! I was determined to finish a fic for today and even though it’s super late I did it!! This idea was given to me by the lovely @glowunderthemoon about a year ago now and I finally got around to writing it. Thank you for the idea Fay and I really hope you and everyone else likes it!

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, unedited writing

WC: 2.4k

Your heart was drumming in anticipation, fingers tapping on your leg as you waited for your phone to buzz. You gave another look in the mirror and tried to occupy yourself even though you had been ready for the past 15 minutes. Your dress was perfect, hair styled to match and makeup complimenting everything nicely.

A few years ago when you were single you might’ve hated Valentine’s day but your boyfriend always made you feel the most special on his favourite holiday. He always spoilt you with flowers and cheesy gifts. Suddenly the day didn’t seem that bad anymore.

Unfortunately, you had to work this Valentine’s day which meant missing out on most of the day with Harrison. He still made you breakfast in bed and sent you cheesy texts but you were sad you couldn’t spend the day cuddled up and watching sappy movies with him. It saddened you even more when you came home and to an empty apartment but the moment you saw the cute note and the chocolates, you knew Harrison had something up his sleeve. You had smiled as soon as you saw the dress laid out on the bed, knowing it was your boyfriend's favourite. The little note attached told you to get ready for a date so you did but you hadn’t expected Haz to make you wait so long.

Just as you were straightening down your dress for the fifth time, your phone buzzed on the table. You rushed to look at it, smiling as you saw a text from Harrison but your expression soon fell into confusion as you read it.

My darling, tonight is no ordinary date. It’s been a whole year of us and it’s been the best year of my life. Start by looking at the place where I first said those three little words.

You furrowed your brow and gave a small laugh, knowing your boyfriend was up to something. You thought back to when he had first told you he loved you and knew to look around the couch.

It had been one of your classic movie nights; popcorn, drinks and a movie that you never paid much attention to. His lips were on yours, his arms around your waist as he held you in his arms before he whispered those three little words against your lips. He almost apologised, thinking it was too soon before you shut him up with a kiss and repeated those words back to him.

You smiled at the memory before finding a photograph on the cushion. It was one of the first you and Harrison had taken together, smiling cheekily into the camera with his hand wrapped around you. You remembered thinking about how cocky (and cute) he was that night when you went on a night out with him and your mutual friends. He was even cuter drunk.

The photo made your heart race faster but did nothing to ease your confusion.

On the back of the photo there was writing, scrawled out in Haz’s messy writing it read: Being with you is the easiest thing in the world and nothing, no one makes me happier. So for your second clue, remember when I stepped on your shoe.

You laughed out loud and paused in confusion, trying to figure out his riddle before realising there was something else written at the very bottom in small print. The title of yours and Haz’s song. The one that always made you smile when you heard it because it made you think of him. And then suddenly it clicked.

You remembered how it had become your song. It was midnight and you felt exhausted as you looked around at the messy kitchen, boxes and bags were everywhere. Haz carried in the last box and set it on the floor before leaning against the counter next to you.

There wasn’t much in your new kitchen besides what was already there and an old portable radio. Haz turned it on to a random station and Just the way you are by Bruno Mars started playing. He smiled and took your hand, pulling you into the only clear space in the room and starting to dance with you.

Suddenly you didn’t care how tired you were or what time it was, all that mattered was Haz and this new life you were starting together. He twirled you around making you both burst into laughter as he accidentally stood on your toes. It was one of the best nights ever.

You hurried to the kitchen and looked around, noticing a single rose on the countertop next to a picture of you and Harrison kissing on a beach. You smiled wide as you remembered the day, it was your first weekend away together and Harrison had whisked you away to a tropical sandy beach, staying in a cosy beach house. You didn’t get much done that weekend but it was still one of the best of your life.

You looked at the photo before turning it over and reading Haz’s writing: The views that weekend were nothing compared to the view I had in the bedroom ;) It was the best vacation and now for the third location. Outside is where you should go, specifically where I first kissed you slow.

Your first kiss, of course. You let out a giggle and took the rose, smelling it’s sweet scent before grabbing a coat and heading outside, following your instructions. Harrison had first kissed you on your first date, you still remember feeling his lips against yours for the first time, a feeling you would never tire of.

You arrived at the arcade and looked around, so many memories flooding back to you. It had been too long since you’d come back here. The place was fairly empty apart from a few couples playing games together and a group of friends cheering loudly as someone got a high score on the dance dance revolution game. Haz had fallen over twice on that game but his true skill was air hockey and he got so competitive when you both played that night.

He’d even won you a teddy bear with his tickets from the games and that’s when he’d took his chance to make his move and kissed you. It had caught you by surprise but you were soon locking lips with him and holding him close in the middle of the arcade, without a care in the world.

You found a bear similar to the one you still kept at home sitting on the air hockey table and your heart melted that Haz had remembered. It held a heart saying ‘being mine’ with a photo attached to it. The photo this time showed you and Harrison kissing when you were both drunk, a memory one of your friends had captured. You giggled and flipped it over to read the clue.

For your fourth and final clue, look for where we first met as two.

A smile lifted on your lips as you remembered in an instant the location you needed to go to. You tucked the photo in the pocket of your jacket along with the others and thought about the time you had been with Haz and of the photos that signified your relationship. Of course there were many more than just the ones in your pocket but Haz had picked these ones for a reason.

You drove to the park nearby where you had first met your boyfriend. It was a late autumn afternoon, the leaves crunching underneath your feet as your dog led the charge and sniffed at the beautiful scent of nature that surrounded them. You were wrapped up in the same coat you were wearing now with a hot drink from your favourite cafe that spread warmth to your hands. You furrowed your brow as your dog started barking and pulled you along at a faster pace to go and sniff another dog who was barking back at them.

The dog was beautiful and once they met in the middle, having dragged both owners along, they started to nuzzle into each other and lick. You giggled and sipped your drink before looking up at the owner hoping to share the humor and make a witty joke about puppy love but instead you almost choked. The owner of the beautiful dog was even more astounding. He had sandy blonde curls and blue eyes that caught you off guard as they matched the sky above.

“Talk about puppy love huh?” He commented, a cup similar to yours in his hands as he smiled at you and for a moment you forgot what air was.

“Hey that was my joke.” You giggled as he laughed and apologised. The conversation after that continued to flow easily and whilst normally you hated meeting strangers, you had to admit that handsome tall blonde guy wasn’t so bad. Even after you learnt his name and swapped numbers, that was still his contact name which he never missed an opportunity to tease you about. You met up after that under the excuse of more puppy play dates before the dogs weren’t the only ones going out on dates and the rest, as they say, is history.

You pulled up to the park with a fond smile and got out of your car, turning off the radio which had just been playing your song. The short walk from the car to the park wasn’t enough to prepare yourself for what you saw. A soft gasp emitted from your lips as you spotted the gazebo in the middle of the park lit up with fairy lights, a picnic blanket and food laid out for two. A violinist was playing next to it with a familiar tune that you had just heard on the radio; your song.

And then you spotted him, standing in the middle of the gazebo in a suit and tie with a large bouquet of roses and the smile that had made you fall in love with him. As you walked closer, you started to tell he was nervous with the way his hands shook slightly and whilst you didn’t know why it was still as cute as ever. You just wanted to hold his hands in yours and tell him everything was going to be okay.

He was holding a hand behind his back as he greeted you and kissed you softly. “Happy Valentine’s my love.”

You smiled and took the roses, looking at Harrison with so much love and a few tears in your eyes. “You did all of this for me?”

Harrison took your hands in his and gazed lovingly at you, “Everything is for you Y/n.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around him and sniffled, letting out a giggle as he picked you up in his arms. It wasn’t until you were here that you realised how much you had missed Harrison even in the short time you’d been apart.

“I love you. Thank you for this baby.”

“I love you too my beautiful rose.” He kissed your nose and made you giggle again before pulling away slightly. You pouted and tried to follow but he only smiled and shook his head. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I sent you to find all those pictures and clues.”

You nodded and bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. Haz smiled wide but you could sense a bit of nervousness behind it. You knew him too well. Just as you were about to ask what was going on, he picked up a book from behind him and gave it to you.

You hummed in curiosity and looked at it. You quickly realised it was a scrapbook titled Our adventure which reminded you of one of your favourite disney movies, Up. Harrison encouraged you to open it and as you did you saw all of your favourite pictures. Some were from special moments in your lives like the ones you had collected and others were silly photos you and Haz had taken through the years.

You could feel your heart melting into a puddle as you looked through the pages. “Haz this is-” You paused and took a deep breath, at a loss for words. “This is beautiful.”

“Keep going love.” Haz encouraged, wiping a tear that fell on your cheek and admiring how beautiful you looked in that moment as you fondly remembered the memories you shared together. He was so glad you liked his final gift, he preferred homemade things and this had taken him the longest and most effort to put together.

He waited until you were right near the end before finally putting his last piece of the puzzle into action and stepping away. He pretended to go down and tie his shoelaces and waited until he heard a small gasp come from your lips as you saw the last page.

There was a polaroid of an engagement ring along with the words Will you marry me?

“Haz-?” You looked up, your face full of surprise and shock as you saw Harrison down on one knee with the engagement ring from the picture in his hand. The tears that had been threatening to fall since the hunt started finally found their way down your cheeks as you realised what was happening.

“Y/n L/n, my love, my soulmate. Will you marry me?”

Harrison’s sparkling blue eyes looked up at you with hope and nerves as he felt his whole body about to explode from the suspense. You didn’t even take a breath before nodding your head quickly, “Yes!”

You kept repeating your answer as you tackled your new fiancé with a hug and kissed him everywhere you could reach. He laughed and wrapped his arms firmly around you, never wanting to let go.

And he never did.

The scrapbook became a part of your relationship as much as your vows did on the day you got married. There were 4 pages full of wedding photos and 2 of photos from your Honeymoon to Hawaii where you recreated the beach picture from your first weekend away together.

The final piece of the puzzle however, was the sonogram photo you got from your first scan showing the newest addition to your family. A new scrapbook was made after that titled The Osterfield Family Adventure.

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

Want to join my taglist? Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you :(

Permanent - @eeyore101247 @strawberrytom @darlingspidey @ameelia @calltothewild @parkerpeter24 @rebekkah4766 @peaches-parker @tom-hlover @parker-hollandx @call-me-baby-gir1 @cosmicvibecheck @outshineallthestars @theliterarymess @dummiesshort @sadxaries @boujee-bitches

Harrison Osterfield - @musicalkeys @hotforharrison @cosmiccaptian

#Harrison osterfield x reader #Harrison Osterfield #Harrison Osterfield x you #Harrison osterfield imagines #Harrison Osterfield x y/n #reader insert #my writing #fanfiction #fluff

87 notes · View notes