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mikkomacko · 3 years

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Sweet As Honey 18

Hello everyone! Here she is! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and this chapter. I hope it lives up to the hype and the wait lol. I'd also like to say that I will still be writing and finishing this series as well as my other in progress ones. However, I'm currently feeling like I'm not that interested in Harry right now and I feel like it's mostly all the drama and everything going on with him right now so updates will be slow. Also I've changed my theme to a Marvel x One Direction theme because I've decided to take one of my Bucky Barnes plot and actually publish it. I'll still post Harry because of course I love him but he won't be the main focus of this blog anymore.

Thanks for waiting and reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter! X

Harry's good under pressure. At least looking from the outside in, he is. It's a skills he's picked up from boxing. Always pretend you know what's going on. No surprises, no shocks. If he's in a fight and his opponent is stronger or faster than he originally thought, he doesn't show it. Acting like it was expected, like he planned it rattles others and helps him maintain his grace.

He keeps that same approach when it comes to interviews.

Liam meets him outside the gym, waving with a bright smile that Harry just smiles at, shocked to find his trainer in the parking garage rather than the ring.

"What's going on mate?" Harry greets, trying to step around him to get to the stairs but Liam halts him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Gotta reporter here who wants to chat with you about recovering from your concussion and reaching the finals."

His tone is laced with hesitance, lips pursed in suppressed grimace and Harry doesn't blame him. Liam knows how much Harry hates interviews. They're his least favorite part of the job. He's here to box and get paid, to provide for his family, not to tell the world every detail of his life.

"Oh," Harry mumbles, shrugging and stepping up to the door. "Alright. Only for a few minutes though, wanna get home a little early today."

If Liam is surprised by Harry's ease he doesn't show it. "Got something going on?"

Harry follows Liam inside, nodding to Mark at the front desk. "Y/n has just been exhausted lately and Arlo can't spend a second alone without screaming bloody murder. Just want to be there to make sure she's resting and Arlo's not being a pest."

"He's your son, of course he's being in a pest."

The comment leaves too much pride in Harry's chest for him to even care that Liam just insisted he himself is a pest. Besides, Harry knows he's clingy and a little too attached but that's just how his relationship with y/n is, and they love it.

In his private locker room,Harry finds the reporter, a young girl who can't be too far out of undergrad with dark hair and a bright red lips. She's sat on the bench, a notepad on her thigh and her phone resting next to it.

"Hello Mr. Styles." She greets, shaking his hand when he approaches her. "I'm Rebecca Weese."

Harry takes a seat next to her, nodding. "Nice to meet you. I don't have a lot of time today but I can answer a few of your questions if we can make it quick." He smiles guiltily, hoping to not come off as rude.

She nods, immediately glancing down at her notepad and crossing some things out. Harry assumes they're questions she's decided aren't important enough. "Is it ok if I record this? Just sound of course."

Again, he nods, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as he waits for her to begin. Tapping at her phone, she places it between them to catch both voices and then scans her notes again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you've only been boxing for a few years, right?"

Harry shrugs. "I trained a lot when I was teenager, worked under Ted until he decided to bring me up to the pros. Was about 20 I think when that happened." He tries to stay vague, knowing he can't tell the public that his "training" was an illegal boxing ring.

"Five-Six years is a short amount of time to be included in a tournament like this one. Most contenders are well into their careers before being qualified to participate. What do you think has been the main factor in your success?"

Routine question, and he's got a routine answer. "I was fortunate enough to figure out early on that boxing is what I wanted to do and I think that helped out a lot. I also got a very good team behind me. My trainer, manager, my wife, they're all the main factors in my success. I'm very grateful to have them."

Rebecca smiles a bit, jotting down a few words. "Does your wife work in the industry?"

It's her casual tone, as if she were a friend just wanting to hear him brag about his lover that has him answering so honestly.

"No she works in design but I met her early in my career and she's always supported me. Takes care of me after bad matches and whatnot, always comes to my fights even if it means being on her feet for hours. Which isn't exactly her favorite thing at the moment with the baby-"

Harry stops, eyes widening a bit at what he's just revealed. Part of him wishes desperately that Rebecca didn't hear him but he knows that's impossible.

"I didn't know you're a father," she says kindly, sensing his panic. "Do you want to talk about it more or should I scratch that part?"

He doesn't know what makes him say it. A year ago he'd have fled the room if he were questioned about his family. Harry likes to keep them separate, to keep his kids away from his boxing. It's possibly a small part of him that's conditioned to keep his work a secret from his family even if he doesn't have to. But Rebecca's offer to drop the whole topic is what breaks him.

"S'ok," he says "I've got a son that's about a year old and another on the way."

Her eyes light up, beaming at him and he grins shyly but somehow proudly at the same time. "That's awesome. Congrats. I know your son's young but does he have any part in your career? Influence maybe?"

"He doesn't watch any of my fights or anything. Too young to be around violence like that but he does affect my fighting in a way. I used to go into boxing with just the mentality that I'm doing something I love, but now I've got the added success. A win means more support for my family and I want them to always have what they need so I've got sort of an edge there."

"Like having something to fight for?" She confirms, and Harry nods immediately.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for them and I think that makes me a bit dangerous in the ring."

No matter what, he'll always be fighting for them. Everything he does is for y/n and his boys.

The house smalls of tomato sauce and pasta when Harry walks in, mouth instantly watering and stomach rumbling. He had a light breakfast this morning before going to the gym and now that's he burnt off all that energy he reckons he could eat a horse. Dropping his keys on the table in the entryway, toeing off his sneakers, and dropping his gym bag to the floor, Harry makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's so caught up in wanting to eat he doesn't notice the TV playing a Disney movie or the two figures sprawled out on the couch until one of them is calling for him.

"Daddy!" Arlo's head pops up over the cushions, dimples sunk into his cheeks and eyes bright. Harry immediately changes course, coming up behind the couch and meeting Arlo's outstretched arms.

"'Ello bug," Harry greets, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Arlo coos happily, curling up against Harry's shoulder. Y/n is watching them with a small smile, a hand resting easily over the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt she's wearing. "And hello darling." He leans over the back of the couch to press a crooked kiss to her lips.

"Hi baby," she sits up, smiling dreamily at him. "How was the gym?"

Harry shrugs, adjusting Arlo on his hip. "Was good. I had an interview today about finals and....stuff." Her eyebrow quirks up at his hesitancy to continue.

"What stuff?"

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Harry drops his gaze to Arlo. "You, Arlo, the baby." She doesn't respond immediately and he knows it’s because she’s trying to analyze him. He's fairly private about his family, especially his children and the only reason he'd informed the world of Arlo was to get people off his back about leaving y/n, so he knows she's probably confused by his ease with talking about the new baby.

"How'd it go?" She asks, pushing herself up from the couch with a hand on her belly. Without hesitation Harry reaches out to place his free hand over hers, moving her with him towards the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"M'starving darling," he says and his stomach grumbles in agreement, making Arlo gurgling back and nudge his foot into Harry's tummy. "But interview went well. Announced the pregnancy."

"You did?" She questions, perching herself on the counter stool with wide eyes. "Seems a bit early compared to Arlo's announcement."

Managing as best he can with one free hand, Harry retrieves a bowl from the cabinet and serves himself a heaping mountain of spaghetti. "Just came out if m'being honest," he shrugs, settling into the stool next to her with Arlo still glued to his lap. "'sides it's different this time. He was my first baby and I was scared."

He doesn't realize that she's fallen silent until he's slurping back noodles and she doesn't scold him. Curiously, Harry rotates just enough to look at her. Y/n is staring at him, eyes big and moony when he mumbles a suspicious "wha'?"

"You were scared?"

Swallowing down his food, he nods. Her intent gaze brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to drop his eyes to peer down at Arlo. "Y-yeah. Didn't know if he'd like me as his dad, ya know?"

Harry's never said those words out loud, now that he's come to think of it. Whenever something's pertained to Arlo, Harry was always the positive reinforcement, the one reassuring y/n about them stepping into parenthood. He never really told her how much it scared him because he didn't want to scare her.

"I-I didn't know that," she mumbles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs, lifting his gaze from Arlo to y/n. "Because I wanted to be a good dad. Ya know, like the kind that can kill spiders and scare aware bad dreams.....Just wanted to be strong I guess."

He doesn't say it, but he knows she's picked up the fear he won't acknowledge. He doesn't want to be his dad. His father was great but the sad thing is, everything great about him was brought out by alcohol. Des needed that poison to combat his own fears and insecurities, and Harry doesn't want to be like that too. He doesn't want to leave his kids the same way he was left.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak Harry."

She leans over to press a tender kiss to his jaw, belly brushing against his side, and he thinks about those words for the remainder of the day.

Crouched down, Harry steers the shopping cart with one hand and guides Arlo along with the other one. By the way he's trudging along, Harry knows Arlo is getting tired of walking. It's good for him to practice though, so Harry leads him along for another few minutes before scooping him up in one arm.

"Did so well bug." Harry compliments, pecking Arlo's cheek. The toddler curls up into his chest, yawning. It's a bit difficult steering the cart with one hand but Harry manages, steadily making his way up and down each aisle. He gets baby cereal for Arlo, a couple bags of puffy hot Cheetos to stash in the cabinets, and he's stocking up on y/n's latest craving (spaghetti-o's and meatballs) when a familiar face rounds the corner.

Zayn is pushing a cart filled groceries, eyes scanning up and down the shelves and Harry curses under his breath. The last person he wants to see right now is Zayn. Last time they had a run in he said something that bothered y/n and Harry never wants anything to bother his girl.

In an attempt to hide, Harry pulls his hood up over his head, shrinking into his pullover and craning his neck to not make eye contact with his old friend. Grabbing a few cans of the fake pasta y/n is living off of, Harry sets them in the cart and quickly walks down the aisle. A man who looks a few years older than Harry moves towards him, stepping around Zayn and in front of Harry's cart.

"Excuse me," the man stops him, gaze dropping to the boy against his chest for half a second before regretfully meeting Harry's eyes. "m'so sorry to bother, didn't notice the little one-"

"It's fine." Harry cuts off, glancing at Zayn to make sure his back is still to them. It is and Harry relaxes a bit at that, but his curiosity grows. "How can I help you sir?"

The man smiles, grateful. "I just wanted to tell you that m'son and I are big fans and we're excited for your fight this weekend."

Harry knows he has fans, he's run into a few around the city but they're usually teens and kids that want an autograph. He's never had a grown man approach him about his career and it's odd. Flattering, but odd.

"Thanks man. I really appreciate your support." Harry says sincerely, smiling. The man nods in response, taking a step away from Harry. He moves to leave but stops last minute, turning back to Harry.

"Congrats on the baby news too." He says quickly, almost shy or embarrassed. Before Harry can even thank him, the man is rushing out a "have a good day" and then he's moving down the aisle.

Confused, Harry stands there for a moment trying to figure out what happened. He knew announcing the new baby would bring more attention to him in the media and he's not surprised that that man, who's clearly a fan, had already heard it. He is surprised that the man seemed almost scared to admit to Harry that he knows.

"Harry?"

Fuck.

He looks up, meeting the golden eyes that could only belong to Zayn. Harry doesn't even bother trying to smile at his old friend as he stands in front of Harry's cart. A lady maneuvers around them, murmuring a soft "excuse me sir." Harry scoots his cart over, smiling apologetically.

"How have you been man?"

Harry's gaze returns to it's impassive expression, glancing over Zayn's too-bright presence. "I've been good." Harry responds, moving Arlo to his other arm when he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. The movement draws Arlo out of his nap-like state, the toddler now noticing Zayn standing in front of them. Immediately his face scrunches into a look of annoyance.

If Zayn notices, he must not care because he smiles at Arlo, teeth dazzling. "That's good to hear. Congratulations on the baby, by the way! Saw the article up front. S'amazing!"

Article? Harry lips are just starting to form his question when his phone rings, the tune specific to y/n. "Sorry, gotta take this." Harry says in Zayn's direction, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He hits answer before Zayn can even respond.

"Hi darling."

Harry wiggles Arlo into the basket. "Hi H. You still at the store?"

He pushes the cart down the aisle, not caring that he's left his old friend hanging. "Yeah I am. What's up"

The sound of a running faucet comes through the speaker. "Forgot to add yogurt bites to the list. Arlo ate the last of 'em last night and ya know how he is if he doesn't have any before bed."

Harry snorts, steering towards the baby food aisle. Arlo has fallen in love with yogurt bites and they've become his snack before bed. Harry thinks he shouldn't be having them every night and he'd tried to tell Arlo that two nights ago, but Arlo is a stubborn thing. He screamed his head off, ignored Harry's attempts at giving him fresh fruit instead, and then only calmed down after y/n nursed him.

"I'll grab 'em darling. No worries." He assures, tossing a couple bags of the bites into the cart. "Anything else?"

"Do we still have the old flower vases from our wedding in the garage?" She asks.

"Umm, I think so. You expecting flowers from a secret lover or something?" Harry jokes, eyes catching on a pack of bibs hanging in the aisle.

"Not unless you've got a trick up your sleeve Styles." She retorts.

He tosses a pack into the basket. "Buy you a whole flower shop if that's what ya want darling." Arlo grumbles from the baby seat of the cart, tiny fingers coming up to play with the rings on Harry's fingers that are locked around the steering bar.

"Don't worry about that, we've got enough flowers." Y/n laughs and he can hear her moving around the house. "Three bouquets just arrived with congratulations cards."

"What?"

"Guess the baby announcement was well accepted." She says. "We're getting lots of flowers for it."

Pushing towards the checkout, Harry frowns in confusion. "Got stopped by a fan today for the same thing. Can't believe it's such a big deal."

"Well you're more known now than when we were having Arlo." She reasons, and Harry hums his agreement. He passes the self checkouts, freezing when he spots numerous copies of his face on the ends of the aisle.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not even thinking about the innocent ears before him. Y/n gasps through the phone, scolding him for his language. "Sorry darling, s'just I'm bloody plastered all over the grocery store."

He reads over the cover of the sports magazine. It's got a big photo of him in the ring, gloves held up to his chin and jaw tight around his mouth guard. Next to it is a photo of him and y/n leaving a big fight awhile back. She's got her head down, hand snug in his as he leads her along. And written in bold yellows is "Harry Styles Expecting Baby #2 As He Prepares for Biggest Fight Yet!"

"They put me on the front page." He tells her, not bothering to flip open the article before he's quickly moving away from the display. "Why would they do that?"

When he did that interview, he thought it'd be a small, breezy section in the magazine. If he had known he'd be getting stopped in the grocery store and flowers sent to his house he wouldn't have said anything. As previously mentioned, he's a private guy, so having this detail projected in a way he wasn't warned about makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"It's alright Harry," y/n says reassuringly, knowing that he's become anxious at the publicity. "No harm done. It's just flowers bub and as long as we've got those vases in the garage, everyone will survive."

He chuckle weakly at her joke, picking an aisle so he can quickly checkout and go home. "Don't go digging around for them by yourself, don't need ya falling and getting hurt. I'll help ya when I get home."

"Aw my hero." She coos, and he knows she's teasing but it still makes him blush. God he loves her.

"Those bloody things are making my nose itch." Harry grumbles, aggressively rubbing the palm of his hand into his burning nostrils. He glares at the bouquet of peonies on the dresser, a gift from y/n's co-workers, and moves towards the bed.

Y/n is propped up against the headboard, a pair of his pajama bottoms on her legs but her shirt has been abandoned on the carpet by the bed. Arlo is attached to her hip, mouth latched to her nipple and she's stroking through his soft hair while he breastfeeds. Harry's heart throbs in his chest, warmed by the sight of his wife coddling their baby, and he's so fucking in love with her he's anxious to get Arlo into bed so he can have his way with her.

"I can't just throw them out, H." She sighs, pulling her gaze from the television to his pouty face. He huffs, running the damp towel in his hand through his hair one last time before haphazardly tossing it towards the closet. Kneeing his way up the bed, he curls into y/n's side and smiles when she tucks her arm around him.

"Stroke my hair too?" He mumbles, peering up with puppy eyes and she giggles before threading her fingers through his hair too. Arlo gurgles around a mouthful, bright green eyes opening to look at Harry. He worries for a moment that Arlo is going to get fussy and kick him away, but the toddler just blinks at him sleepily.

"Tha's ma boy." He coos fondly, squirming a hand over to pat Arlo's full tummy. Y/n giggles and continues to stroke his hair, Harry watching Arlo slowly be soothed to sleep. "Lemme get him to bed darling."

Grunting, he pushes himself up from the mattress and too his feet. Y/n transfers Arlo to his awaiting arms, swiping at the milk that dribbled out of his snoring lips and onto her skin. Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna have a shag when I get back?"

A shocked laugh bursts out of her, Harry's face lighting up at the sound as his heart swells. He was trying to be a bit silly, not enough to have her eyes crinkling like that, but he's happy she finds him funny.

"Sure baby." She breathes, still grinning. His stomach flutters, excitement bubbling in his belly and he nods quickly before moving across the room.

Arlo stays cuddled into Harry's neck as he flicks on the nightlight in the nursery and adjusts the blankets in the crib. Theo watched Harry from his bed in the corner, sleepy puppy eyes following his every move. He lays Arlo down, gently shushing him when he store and tucks Bunny into his side. With a peck to his head and a quiet "good night bug," Harry partially shuts the bedroom door and rushes back into the bedroom.

Y/n has already kicked off her bottoms, leaving her naked on their sheets and Harry groans as he works to catch up with her. His shirt is playfully tossed at y/n's grinning face, Harry laughing as he wiggles out of his sweats. Naked as the day he was born, Harry jumps onto his knees at the bottom of the bed.

A laugh bubbles out of y/n when the whole bed shakes under his weight, clearly amused at how excited he is. She must be just as excited though because she quickly leans forward to cup his face, attaching their lips and bringing him back down to the pillows with her.

"Wanna be on top," he mutters into her mouth, ghosting his hand down her tummy and tickling his thumb over her clit. "f'that's ok?"

"Mmm," she hums, happily "too tired to top anyway."

Harry seals their lips together again, using his knees to spread her thighs a bit further apart for him. Her palms smooth down his sides and around to his back, a breathy moan interrupting their kiss courtesy of his fingers. Harry utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging her hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against her side. She lifts, and he settles it under her lower back and bum to prop her up. Luckily for him, he's had a lot of practice getting around a baby bump for a shag.

Settling between her thighs, Harry giggles when she wraps her legs around his hips and tugs him closer. His body hovers over hers, love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through her folds, groaning at how slick she's become.

"Don't even have to try anymore do I?" He teases with a wolfish smile, capturing her lips just as she rolls her eyes. Giggling, he leaves soft kisses across her cheek, heading towards the base of her jaw.

"S'the baby's fault honestly." She argues, her fingers disappearing into the damp locks sticking to the back of his neck.

He hums, smirking against her skin. "Is it?"

With a small tug she's pulling him back up to her mouth. "Yeah. Gets me revved up all the bloody time. I don't know what you're putting in there mister but it's exhausting."

Harry laughs quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take care of ya. S'my problem after all, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, biting back a grin as Harry grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling her. Chest to chest, Harry smiles at the feeling of their stomachs pressed together as he guides the head of him into her slit.

The sigh that puffs out of her chest sends a zip of pleasure up his spine, as if she'd been partial without him and the pure relief of just having him in her is all she could ever want. Harry hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey she is for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her this desperate for him and his touch.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He pulls his hips back, breath stuttering when he easily slips forward again.

Y/n moans softly, dropping one hand to the small of his back as if guiding him. "So so good H." She confirms in a whisper, her voice tickling his ear and he squirms with a small laugh at the sensation.

Harry's soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between them and the one sleeping down the hall. Even the kisses he places on her jaw and lips are tender, small brushes between their confirmations that he "feels so good" inside her and she was "made for being wrapped me huh?" And Harry thinks nothing ever been truer. Her arms were made to hold him, her hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and her heart was made to completely consume his.

Y/n reaches her high before him, rolling her hips up to try and quicken his but he maintains his sensual thrusts, stroking her temple as she trembles and gasps, clinging to him in every way possible. There's something about how quick she falls apart for him when she's pregnant and how utterly earth shattering it is for her, that it completely obliterates any sense of stamina Harry's ever had. He couldn't care less when he follows shortly after, grinding down into her heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in her walls. She's the one stroking his temple this time, and he knows she's watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes.

Maybe it's the lingering anxiety that washed over him at the grocery store, but when y/n kisses him and gently nudges him off of her so she can go pee, Harry's desperate as he grips her hand and pouts, practically begging when he asks "can I get back in ya after? Just to fall asleep darling?"

Of course she nods, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead to soothe him and just like that he already feels lighter. He never has to sorry with her, because they were made for loving each other.

"Oh fuck!"

"Would you stop being so loud! It's 8 in the morning!"

"Can't help it, darling."

Harry tightens his hold around y/n's thighs, dipping his tongue back into her slit and groaning loudly despite the warning she's already given him this morning. She tugs on his hair scoldingly, drawing a pained hiss out of him. Harry brings his teeth up to her clit, nibbling in retaliation. A pained hiss of her own leaves her lips, cut off by a soft moan as he soothes his tongue over the spot.

Grinding her hips up into his mouth, Harry can't help but push his own into the mattress and a deep groan escapes him as he does so. Huffing, y/n scolds him again for being too loud when they've got a sleeping child one room over.

"Stop yelling at me so I can make you cum." He purrs, lips brushing over her clit. Their eyes meet over the curves and dips of her body, Harry smirking when she raises a prodding eyebrow at him. He kisses her thigh just once, lapping his tongue through her slit and he's just reaching her most sensitive spot when the beginning stirs of Arlo waking up break through the baby monitor.

Simultaneous groans leave both their mouths, this time of frustration. Harry pouts, knocking his forehead on y/n's hip bone and shaking his head.

"I told you Styles." Y/n teases, stroking through his hair for a second. He can't even think of a rebuttal before Arlo is calling out softly for her, and she's pushing up from the bed to get dressed.

"Take care of that while I take care of this." She calls as she disappears through the door, snickering softly and leaving him there desperate for her. But then again, when is he not desperate for her?

Hey man, hope I'm not being a bother. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink Friday or something?

-Z

Harry stares at the message, wondering why Zayn would sign it when the Instagram handle is clearly him. He also wonders why the hell Zayn is trying to hang out with him now.

It's a sunny day, the air outside relatively warm for March so Harry slipped a sweater on Arlo and brought him out to the backyard to play. They're sat in the grass, Arlo between his legs as they teach Theo to play fetch. Arlo's gotten good at tossing the chew toy himself, so Harry used the free time to start clearing out the congratulations messages he's received on Instagram.

"What's the matter H?"

Harry locks his phone, tilting his head up and squinting into the sun as y/n stands over them. She's got a bowl of puffy hot Cheetos in her hand, cradling them as if they were a precious gem as she settles into the grass with them.

"Nothing," he mumbles, pecking her temple when she leans into his side. "just got a weird text from Zayn. He wants to hang out."

Crunching through a chip, she hums. "Did you know he lives here?"

She lifts up a Cheeto, offering it to him. Harry gladly takes it between his teeth, pulling it from her fingertips and crunching down on the puffy chip. Swallowing, he shakes his head.

"Ran into him at the store once around Valentine's Day," she says, eyes watching Arlo dig his stubby fingers into the dry grass. "Was trying to talk to me about you I think but your son threw a fit and I was too busy to care honestly."

"Really?" Harry asks, perking up at the idea of Arlo throwing a tantrum to keep people away from y/n. That's the only time he'll agree with such actions. "Taught him well then haven't I?"

Rolling her eyes, she elbows him. "If you're son grows up to be rude I'm going to kick your ass Harry Styles."

Laughing, he steals a chip from her, locking his phone and dropping it to the grass. Arlo, interested in the device, crawls over to pick it up.

"Wouldn't expect anything less darling." He says, reaching over to swipe his phone to the camera so Arlo can snap random pictures.

"What are you going to do about Zayn then?"

"Suppose I should see what he wants, yeah?"

Y/n shrugs but Harry can read the look on her face easily. She's always silently encouraged him to face things that need mending or fixing, and his past with Zayn is one of those things.

"S'done then," he laughs, pinching her side affectionately. "I'll figure out why he's so obsessed with me."

She laughs, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose in the way makes him want to stare at her forever. "Think it's that one he's obsessed with. Look how cute he is."

Harry follows her line of sight, smile growing at the sight of Arlo making faces at himself in Harry's camera.

So bloody cute.

"Are we gonna be besties? I think we're gonna be besties." Niall states, swinging an arm around y/n's shoulders. He's on his third beer of the night already and Harry hasn't even made it to the ring yet. Y/n just laughs, continuing to maneuver tape around Harry's fingers but he's not as kind.

Casting a glare at the Irish man, Harry calls out to Gemma. "Get your leprechaun off of my girl before I use him to warm up."

Niall isn't really phased by the words, only pouting softly at Harry's steel gaze but Gemma is quick to rush over and pull Niall up from the couch by his hand.

"Come on babe, let's go find our seats." She coos to him, sending Harry an apologetic smile. He waits for her and Niall to turn their backs before chuckling softly. Y/n pinches at his wrist.

"Be nice to Niall. I really like him."

"Oh you really like him, huh?" Harry huffs, nudging his knee against hers. She rolls her eyes, giggling when he slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her into his lap. "Please tell me how much you really like Niall darling." He requests, shoving his face in her neck and playfully biting at her throat and shoulder. Just as he'd expected, she giggles and squirms, Harry having to wrap her up in a bear hug to keep her from sliding right off his thigh.

"Harry! Stop!"

He laughs with her, moving up to bite at the apples of her cheeks and her nose, growling as if he were a rabid beast. His freshly taped knuckles ache under the tightness of the wrap as he grips her flailing legs but he ignores it in favor of listening to her laugh.

"I like you more! I swear!" She shouts between laughs, wiggling a hand free and gripping the back of his neck. Pleased with her words, Harry pants out a laugh before sealing his mouth to hers.

"Tha's good because I like you more than Niall too." He mumbles into her lips.

"You like me more than you like everyone." She chuckles, stroking her thumb along his jawline. Harry's eyes shine with delight, proud that she knows her place in his heart, but he still teases.

"Mmm almost darling. Quite like my son, ya know that?"

She rolls her eyes but looks at him fondly, pinching the meat of his cheek. "Cute," she murmurs, "now go get ready for your fight baby. Want everyone to see my husband's gonna be the national champion."

Her words bring a rush of blood to his cheeks (and his cock if he's being honest), but he nudges her onto the couch next to him. "Just need two more wins." He whispers in her ear, pecking her temple.

Just two more wins.

There's good fights and there's bad fights. Everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that there's good wins and bad wins. Harry's experienced a few of those bad ones. Wins that he probably shouldn't have gotten because he certain his opponent had landed more punches and the judges miscounted. Or it was clear the other fighter wasn't into it and let him win.

Harry thinks tonight is his worst win ever.

The fight had been good. Trinsky, tonight's opponent from New Jersey, was short and stocky but strong. Harry was quicker than him though so they'd gone back and forth for a few rounds. Nothing two rough, just enough punches to have bright red welts on his torso and an ache in his jaw.

He fought through it though, fueled by the sounds of y/n and Niall cheering for him. Win this fight and he's onto the championship match. So he went at it with all he had left, charging Trinsky just as the man knocked his fist into Harry's temple.

It felt like a lightning bolt of pain zapped through his brain, shaking his core and causing his feet to stumble. Trinsky slid to the right as Harry crashed into the ropes, blinking furiously as the room around him spun. He was still in a daze as his body moved on its own, quick enough to uppercut his left fist into Trinsky's chin. The man crumbled to the mat, out cold, and Harry's dizzy head brought him down as well.

There's cheering and an announcement of his name, declaring Harry the winner but he can't seem to focus on it. Trinsky is being moved from the ring by his team, Harry falling to his bum on the mat as he rips at the velcro of his gloves with his teeth.

The room is coming back into focus, someone is calling him from the side of the ring but he doesn't recognize the voice so it goes ignored. He gets his hands free, rubbing his fingers into the tender spot on his head and wincing. He needs to take some Advil and ice it.

Harry climbs to his feet, a bit disoriented as he ducks under the ropes to leave. He knows he's got a team here somewhere but his mind can't seem to recognize what they look like or how to find them.

"Man, what are you doing?"

He turns, confused to find two men watching him like he's grown a second head. Harry feels like he knows the warm brown eyes of the taller man but he's not sure from where. Smiling uncomfortably, he motions behind him.

"I n-need ice or something." He says, excusing himself with a shrug and turning back to the locker room. He doesn't like the way his stomach twists or how his chest is telling him he knows those men when he couldn't even tell you there names right now. His heart thunders in his chest, panic seeping in and he's desperate to find something or someone that'll just help him out.

"Harry baby," she says calmly, a hand rubbing up his bare back comfortingly. "you okay?"

Y/n appears at his side, head tilted so she can meet his nervous gaze. Almost immediately he latches onto her hand, shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease, lips frowning as she reaches to cup his cheek.

"What's going on H? What's the matter?"

"M'head hurts," he answers immediately. "I-I think I forgot my team."

A trembling breath leaves his lips, tears stinging behind his eyes when he sees the concern on his wife's face. She brushes her thumb over his temple, the one she knows got hit the hardest, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead to place a tender kiss there.

"Let's get you to the locker room babe."

He follows like a lost puppy, trailing behind her through the back hallway and into his locker room. Y/n closes the door behind him before anyone else can enter, twisting the lock. Harry sits in the closest chair, fiddling with the tape on his fingers as he tries to calm down.

"Do you want to talk to me bub?" Y/n asks quietly, pulling up a seat directly in front of him. He nods, lifting his gaze from his hands to her face.

"I don't know what happened. It's like I got hit in the head and everything got shook up." He explains, frowning. He hates the way this feels. Hates that his body is screaming at him to just remember but his brain refuses to accept the message. "I know them, I know I do but s'like their names and stuff are just gone."

Y/n inhales sharply, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Harry's not even sure what to say and that makes him feel so much worse. He doesn't even feel like he has a concussion, not really. Everything else is still there, still in the forefront of his mind. His wife, his boys, Anne and Gemma. And he faintly remembers sitting at bars with one of the men from his team, remembers crashing on his couch late at night. But the soul of those memories are gone.

"I'm gonna get you some painkillers and water okay babe? Then we'll figure out what to do."

He nods, smiling wetly when she kisses his forehead. Watching her move around the room to gather water and whatnot, Harry wills himself to just think. He knows these men, he's just gotta focus on it. A memory stands out, one of the three of them in a car on a road trip. His trainer is driving, his manager in the passenger seat and he knows this is a trip for a match. A recent match too because he remembers saying goodbye to Arlo and y/n, kissing her swollen belly before he went.

Y/n returns to him with a bottle of water and a couple pills, watching him cautiously as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to just think. Recalling conversations from the car, remembering the screen in the front of the vehicle that reads Connected to Liam's iPhone. Liam. Almost instantly Nick's name floods his brain again and he feels his whole body tremble with relief.

Harry takes the medicine, gulping it down and slumping into his seat. "Nick and Liam," he finally murmurs, voice thick. "I couldn't remember darling. They were right in front of me and I couldn't remember their fucking names."

A silent tear trails down his cheek, Harry sniffling as y/n wipes it away with a tender touch he's only felt from her. "Its ok Harry. We'll figure out what happened. At least you remember now baby." She tried to comfort, but Harry's heart still aches.

"What if-" he peers up at her through wet eyelashes. "what if it had been you? Or Arlo? Or all three of you? What if I-"

He can't even finish the thought before he's shaking his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. What would he have done if he'd looked at y/n and not remembered her name? Not remembered the beautiful son they created? Or the one she's growing now?

"It wasn't Harry," she stays sternly, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. "it wasn't and even if it did happen, it wouldn't change a thing. You're not getting rid of us."

Trying to smile, he nods and takes a deep breath. He trusts her, more than anyone, and he's never known someone that fights as much as she does. He knows, no matter what, that she'll always have his back.

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles au #dad harry #boxer harry #cute #smut #daddy harry styles #sweet as honey talk

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takaraphoenix · 3 years

Note

Ofc I'm excited for the new chapter phoe, I am so starved for Jason content that even the suggestion that I'm going to get some (esp QUALITY Jason content like urs) makes me unbelievably giddy and I'm fr checking my phone to see when it's gonna be update time in ur timezone 🥺✨

Oh gosh, you're so sweet. Your messages always delight me a lot and since Jason took kind of a backseat today in favor of the build up of the secret reveal, yooou get a small, Jason-focused flash-forward into their future. ;) also because I actually have time to write again fdklghaöklh

Sky-blue eyes were large as they quickly flew over the words in front of him. His mouth was in a small oh-shape as he absorbed every little bit of information that was given to him. And then it just ended.

To Be Continued...

No, no, no. That couldn't possibly be! This was too exciting, it couldn't just end like that! His sister next to him made a squealing sound as she also reached the ending. She grabbed the comic book out of his hand and tried turning the page, hoping against hope there would be more.

"No, no, no," she whined frustrated and threw herself back onto the bed.

After a moment, her brother mirrored her. The two groaned and whined until their current babysitter walked in, a frown on his face. He brushed hazel-hair out of his face.

"What's gotten into you lot?"

"The comic ends, uncle Tyson! It just ends! And the next issue won't come out until next month, but it just got really, really exciting!" he heard his sister complain.

"Grace is right! This isn't fair. Cliffhangers are unlawful and inhumane!"

Tyson laughed and approached the bed to sit down between his niece and nephew. "I think I gotta talk to your parents about your definition of unlawful and inhumane, Jacky."

Jackson huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, pout in place and sky-blue eyes dark like a brewing storm. When it darkened in the room and rumbling could be heard from outside, Tyson frowned concerned and cleared his throat.

"You guys do know that you could just... ask your parents, right? They were right there. They know exactly how all of this unfolded," offered Tyson.

He took the comic-book - issue 13 of The Adventures of the New Olympians - and closed it to hold up the cover, where Jason di Angelo was standing heroically in his Blue Lightning uniform, fighting a giant space-octopus. Jackson frowned and turned to look at his sister.

"I dunno", admitted Grace. "Dad is like... dad. Not Blue Lightning. Dad sings bad old boyband songs in the shower and steals daddy's blue cookies and baby-talks to Mrs. O'Leary."

"Yeah. These comics are totally fiction, uncle Tyson", agreed Jackson seriously. "Dad's a total dork, not a superhero! He isn't like daddy and papa."

Tyson huffed a little at that, fond smile on his lips. "He isn't now. But when push comes to shove, he always got our back in a fight. Because he could never bear standing aside if his family gets hurt. Go and ask him about it, mh."

"Tyson? Where are you?", called his wife from somewhere else. "Jason is here to pick up the kids!"

"Ah, your cue, pipsqueaks", Tyson grinned and ruffled both their hair.

Grace quickly grabbed her Wisdom Warrior doll, while Jackson took the comic book, both kids quickly running out the room and downstairs. Grace just lept off a few steps before the end of the stairs, jumping straight into her dad's awaiting arms. Jason was smiling softly, hugging her tightly. Her blonde curls bounced as he whirled her around once.

"Hey there, kids. Had fun with uncle Tyson and auntie Ella?"

"Ye--es", chorused Jackson and Grace.

"Thanks for watching them, guys", Jason turned to offer Tyson and Ella a small, grateful smile. "With Perce and Nico still in Canada about that... maple syrup fuled robot apocalypse... it's been kind of stressful. And then Thabi got into trouble at school and-"

"No need to explain, or to thank us", assured Tyson, patting his brother-in-law on the back. "That's what brothers are for, Jay. We got your back. Besides, we love those two."

With a last smile aimed at the couple, Jason herded the twins out of the house and toward the car. He made sure their seatbelts were fastened before he got in the driver's seat and started the car. In the rear-mirror, he could see the twins whispering with each other, but neither speaking up. He decided against asking, for now. They'd tell him whatever was on their minds when they were ready.

Once at home, both of the kids ran off to their rooms and Jason was so busy with things around the house that he nearly forgot about the kids' strange behavior. That's what they got for having a ridiculously big house and stables, but then again, they did need the grounds to allow their companions enough space to roam free. He'd just finished feeding Tempest and Blackjack when the twins suddenly stood behind him, serious, matching frowns on their faces.

"We have come to the agreement that we should ask you", declared Grace.

A nine-year-old with pigtails had no right to look this serious. Jason smiled a little at that, nodding and waiting for more.

"We know that daddy and papa are superheroes", continued Jackson as the three headed back toward the house. "But you aren't! You're just... dad. Right?"

"Ouch", Jason huffed out a little laugh. "Just dad, huh?"

"I mean, you're normal, like us", corrected Grace with a frown, motioning at the posters at the walls when they entered the living room. "You're only a hero on the big screen! Not in real life!"

The smile on Jason's lips turned more nostalgic. His dorky, dorky husbands had decided to plaster every wall that wasn't filled with family pictures with posters of his movies. Right now, Grace was motioning very decidedly at The Twelve Tasks of Hercules. Hercules was his most popular role, a fictional superhero clearly supposed to be the son of Zeus but never actually name-dropping Zeus in the movie series. Or the spin-off TV show. It had spanned a whole cinematic universe about fictional superheroes after they had introduced Theseus, a water-powered superhero who was a thinly veiled homage to Percy, in one of the movies. Theseus got his own solo-movie, then a sequel and over the years, they had established more and more heroes in this universe. Jason was so incredibly proud of it, not just because he played the hero who started it all, but because he was also creatively involved; he had pitched the character of Theseus.

Sitting down on the couch, he let his eyes wander just a little. A poster of his first big breakout role as Jace Herondale in a TV show adaptation of The Mortal Instruments... naturally, Percy had chosen the poster where Jason posed shirtless, showing off the runes.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?", asked Jason softly.

"I wanna take over granny's bakery", declared Jackson with a puffed-out chest. "I'll learn all of her recipes and become the best baker in all of New York."

"I dunno, dad. I'm nine", huffed Grace with a pointed look. "Maybe I'll become a great fashion designer like auntie Silena! Or a teacher like auntie Annabeth. Or president. Or astronaut. Oh! Or doctor."

"Okay, okay", Jason interrupted her, laughing. "But neither of you wants to become a superhero like your dads?"

The twins exchanged a silent look before shaking their heads and Jackson answered. "No. It looks scary. It looks cool to watch but I'd be super scared."

Jason nodded slowly. "But if Gracie was in danger, like really, really scary danger, what would you do?"

"I'd help her!", exclaimed Jackson immediately, grabbing his sister's hand.

The smile on Jason's lips grew some. "Being a hero is really, really scary and really, really dangerous. And I never-ever wanted to be a hero. I'm not as brave as your dads when it comes to that. But when there is something very big and dangerous that your dads can't handle on their own, I'll put my own fears aside. Because you know what is just... so much scarier than being a hero? It'd be if something happened to your dads. And I couldn't help."

He knew their kids were under no illusions; they knew Nico and Percy led dangerous lives and they knew something could happen to them. Nico had already been hospitalized for a longer period of time a few years ago.

"So when they really need me, I'll be very brave to help them."

"So... So this is really real?", asked Grace softly, holding up the comic-book.

Jason snorted a little at the extremely overdone hero-pose he was striking on the cover. "It's... more or less real. There's some... made-up stuff there, because those who write these comics, they only had the news coverage to go by, they weren't actually there when we met in private and planned and talked. But yes, that happened."

Jackson straightened up at that and took the comic from his sister to open it on the last page, putting it down on Jason's lap and very decidedly pointing at the To Be Continued in the lower corner.

"How's it end!?", asked Jackson eagerly. "We don't wanna wait!"

"Ye--es! Did you save the day? Did you rescue daddy when he got abducted by the alien octopus?", wanted Grace to know, eyes large.

Laughing to himself, Jason leaned back against the couch and opened his arms, both his kids immediately snuggling up to him and eagerly awaiting the story. Jason wasn't the greatest story-teller in the family, Piper was the author, but he did his best to actually tell the story as exciting as possible. He talked and talked for over an hour and by the end of the story, both twins were deep asleep. Asleep on him, not giving him a chance to move from the couch either. Though he was tired too, so he closed his eyes, just for a second.

"I'm de--ead", groaned Percy softly and something shifted.

Jason blinked sleepily, turning his head toward the source of the voice. His face lit up when he saw Percy snuggled up to Grace from behind. When he turned toward his other side, he saw Nico behind Jackson.

"I'm sorry we were both gone, amore", whispered Nico as he leaned over to kiss Jason sweetly. "It was an all-hands-on-deck situation..."

"You don't have to explain", Jason smiled faintly. "You're the leaders of the Olympians. They rely on you. Especially now with all the newbies, they need your guidance."

"Yeah, but we promised you we'd step back some", Percy sighed frustrated.

"You can't control when a weird Canadian wants to start the robot- apocalypse", Jason chuckled amused. "I'm proud of you both. And you have been stepping back a lot."

Percy hummed in agreement, eyes slowly closing as he rested his head on Jason's shoulder. Within moments, he was out cold. So the entire family was going to sleep on the couch today, mh?

"How did your meeting go?", asked Nico, sounding sleepy.

"Good. I mean. Really good. The studio is still so stubbornly thinking that female superheroes won't sell, but we finally pushed through. We got the Helen of Troy spin-off greenlit", replied Jason with a puffed out chest.

Nico smiled at him, kissing his cheek. "Good. I'm proud of you."

And then he yawned and snuggled closer to Jason. It filled Jason with warmth to just sit here, with his husbands and children, in their home. Safe and happy. Yes, he worried for Nico and Percy when they were out there, but he also knew that this was their dream and they loved their job. And ever since the twins had been born, the two really had stepped back, leading from the headquarters and training new heroes, only going out themselves if it was an emergency and the others needed help. Jason couldn't be mad about that, wouldn't want to be either, because he could never resent his husbands for living their dream - they had, after all, always supported Jason and his dream. Even when Jason would be in another country for months filming a movie, they never complained, they took care of the kids and were proudly at his side during the premieres.

"I love you two", whispered Jason, carefully kissing the top of Nico's head on one of his shoulders and the top of Percy's head on the other. "My heroes."

#Jercico #Fic: The Legacy of the Big Three #Jason Grace #Fanfiction #Phoe's Tumblr Drabbles #mmmh does that count? yeha I guess

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cancercrew-filth · 4 years

Text

“I love you.” (Joji)

Anon Request: Joji with a childhood best friend who he's in love with but she has a boyfriend. The only thing that's stopped him is the fear of rejection.

Joji’s POV

I sat at the edge of the front porch steps chewing on my fingernails, a nervous habit I tried to quit multiple times but had no success in doing so. I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t think…I could barely bring myself to eat this morning. I don’t really wanna do this, right? I thought to myself. No, I can’t. This back and forth battle between my brain and my heart was starting to make more sick to my stomach than I already was. If I leave right now, she’d never know I was here…now’s my chance to just forget this and go home. She hasn’t even responded to my text yet. I thought about going for a walk since the weather was meant for one. Not a cute little small walk, but one of those long hikes that take your mind off of something that by the time you notice you’re lost, you no longer are thinking about why you started walking in the first place.

I exhaled heavily and stood up with my back towards the door and the stairs. I took one step forward and began to walk away from the apartment complex slower than I thought I would, almost as if I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t make it very far until I heard a soft voice from behind me, “Joji?”

My heart came to a halt as I froze in place. Turning around quickly, I tried to wipe the worried look I had on my face and replaced it with a toothy smile, “Y/N! Hey…” I beamed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t read your message right away.” she heaved as I made my way over to her, “I was driving and there was a shit ton of traffic, but I had a feeling you were gonna be here so I came as fast as I could.”

I took ahold of her large duffel bag as she walked up the steps to the door and unlocked it in a rush. I held the door for her to walk in ahead of me and I shuffled into the foyer quickly behind her while the heavy door shut behind us.

“How are you?” she asked smiling at me as we entered the elevator.

“Um…” I cleared my throat, “Pretty good…can’t really complain.”

I avoided her gaze and looked either at my feet or straight ahead, awkwardly.

“You sure?” she questioned, hugging herself due to the sudden coldness in the elevator.

“Yeah.” I chuckled, “I’m great.”

We reached her floor with a sudden jolt followed by a loud dinging sound. Y/N was brief to get out of the elevator, squeezing through the doors before they even had a chance to fully open. I trailed behind her light steps as she swayed flawlessly down the hall as she jingled her keys. We finally reached the end of the hall and were face to face with her door. Entering her large apartment, I set the duffel bag down on the couch as I shut the door behind me.

“Thank you for carrying my bag.” she giggled, “I found it kinda heavy.”

“Yeah, it is a little heavy.” I admitted.

“Yeah, I stayed over at Kevin’s for a few days.” she spoke from the kitchen, as she was getting us some water, “His parents were in town and since he lives nearly on the other side of the city, he somehow convinced me to stay for a few days so I didn’t have to constantly go back and forth.”

The sick feeling washed over me again. Kevin. I looked at the picture she had of her with him on nearly side table, polaroids she posted of the two of them on her walls, pictures of them on her TV stand. I sat on the couch and tilted my head back, licking my dry lips as I shut my eyes tightly, I felt the room spinning.

“Here you go.” she practically whispered.

I jumped at the sound of her soft voice. I opened my eyes to see her holding a glass of water in front of my face. I lightly grabbed the glass and mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’. I took slow, small sips and placed the glass on the coffee table in front of me once the glass was half empty. Y/N sat next to me on the couch, her back against the armrest as she sat with her legs crossed, cradling her glass of water with the palms of her hands in between her crossed legs.

“Hey,” she searched for my gaze, “What’s going on? I know you said you were good, but you can’t really lie to me. You’re my best friend, I know you.”

For the first time in a little over two weeks, I looked into her eyes and took her features all in. She was fresh faced dressed in her cuffed overalls, her messy hair reminding me of the first time I had ever met her:

We were eight; I had just moved into the small suburban area that became my new home from Japan. I sat on my front steps squinting at the sunlight, trying to take in my new surroundings. Without noticing the frisbee that was being thrown at me to my right due to the sudden blindness of the sun, I was hit on the side of the head by the flying disk.

“Im sorry!” she shouted from the lawn next to mine, her small feet whisking through the uncut grass as she made her way over to me.

“Ow…” I mumbled as I picked up the frisbee that crash-landed next to my foot.

“Hi…I’m sorry…I wanted to be nosy and make it go over there but it hit you…I’m sorry.” she admitted, blushing from the embarrassment as she pointed to an area on my front lawn.

“It’s okay.” I said as I handed her the frisbee once she was stood in front of me.

She was beautiful, dressed in cuffed overalls and tennis shoes. She slightly squinted as she looked at me, her hand shielding her eyes.

“I’m Y/N.” she introduced herself, “We’re neighbors, I live right there. I’ve never seen you around before.” she pointed to the house right next to mine “…Do you wanna come over and play? I have an older brother so he’s probably into the cool stuff that boys are into.”

“Uh…okay…I have to ask my mom first, though.” I said confused, I wasn’t used to people being so open and friendly.

“Okay!” she smiled, “I’ll wait here.”

I opened my front door and prepared myself to go in before she asked, “Wait! What’s your name?”

“George.” I answered.

“Okay, nice to meet you George.” she smiled.

By the time we were sixteen we were inseparable. Movie nights were nearly every night, I used to hear our moms talk about us growing up and getting married and complain when we wouldn’t “give in” and date each other. At eighteen, newly graduated from high school, we decided to go on a road trip since we wanted to leave the dumbass suburb we were in. We made it a little over forty-five minutes out of town and the car broke down in the middle of the highway. I pulled off to the side of the road, not being able to see with the smoke coming from the from of the car. I looked over at her in the passenger seat and she looked at me wide eyed before clenching her lips together and bursting into a fit of laughs.

“I know I should not be laughing right now but I think we’re cursed.” she giggled, “We’re meant to be in the suburbs. This would happen to us.”

I let my head hit the headrest and laughed along with her. After a few minutes, I tried to get a hold of AAA but I had no service, and neither did Y/N, so we weren’t able to come into contact with anyone for the time being.

“We are literally being assfucked right now.” she groaned as she got out of the car and slamming the door behind her, “Come on, Joji.”

“We’re walking it?” I asked her.

“Well, duh.” she smiled, “We’ll be fine. I know where we are and once we get service, we can call our parents and tell them what happened. And we can get ahold of AAA.”

I got out of the car and followed her lead, staying as far away from the road as possible.

“How long are we walking for?” I asked.

“About an hour and a half, give or take.” she sighed as she kicked a couple of rocks out of her, “Depends on how fast we walk, slowpoke.” she joked, looking at me and smiling.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized.

“For what?” she laughed, “It’s just not our time to leave town yet, I guess. Plus, we’re getting a daily dose of exercise. We’ll be fine.” she shrugged it off.

An hour into our walk, the air smelled of rain and I felt a drop of water hit my forehead, “Shit.” I whispered.

“What’s up?” she questioned, looking over at me.

“It’s gonna rain.” I said before the drops became frequent and heavier.

Y/N grabbed my hand once she heard thunder roaring and we ran the rest of the way home through, what seemed to be, some sort of tropical storm. We reached my front steps and stood there panting for a couple of minutes before she burst out laughing once again. I looked over at her like she was crazy, but I saw her rose-colored glass view: shit like this would happen to us. She was drenched in water, her hair sticking to her face and her clothes dripping water. She took her shoes off as I unlocked the door, we bumped into each other, thinking we would fit through the doorframe together as we tried to get through.

We both took a step back, but we were still close enough that our fingertips slightly touched. I looked at her wet face and I moved strands of her damp hair out of the way and behind her ear, my heart felt like it was skipping beats as I felt a fluttering feeling in my stomach. She looked into my eyes, and without even realizing until the last minute, I noticed myself slowly moving in, our noses almost touching. Suddenly I took another step back and stuttered after I cleared my throat, “You-you can go on ahead first.”

What if she didn’t kiss me back? Or what if she stopped me? I can’t ruin our friendship due to my selfishness..

The fire in the fireplace was blazing slowly as Y/N and I sat in front of the warm flame huddled under a large fuzzy blanket together. I had lent her some clothes to change into so she didn’t have to sit in her wet clothes or get sick from being in her wet clothes too long. With her eyes glued to the fire and her small hands clutching some of the blanket, I looked at her somewhat frizzy hair, the strands glowing from the firelight. Her lashes were curled perfectly without the need of mascara, her eyes shining underneath them. She turned her head to look at me.

I swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. I had gone years without telling her I was in love with her for the sake of our friendship, yet here I was staring at her like it was the only thing keeping me alive. My eyes went from her mouth, back to her eyes. Again, I noticed myself getting closer to her like an absolute idiot. I shot up to my feet quickly, “I’m gonna go make tea.” I blurted out as I ran to the kitchen leaving her with the rest of the blanket.

“George?” her voice broke me out of my thoughts, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know…” I breathed out.

“Is it that new girl you’re seeing?” she asked, confused.

“No. I stopped seeing her two months ago.” I answered, “I need to tell you something…and you don’t need to say anything or respond to it, but it’s been bothering me and I won’t stop hating myself until I let you know.”

She’s happy with Kevin, he makes her happy and that should be enough for me to see her content, and I know she will never feel the same and it frightens me to think that way but for the sake of preserving my mind, I need to tell her.

“Wh-“ she stopped herself, “Joji? What’s going on.”

I buried my face in my hands and rubbed my tired eyes before I turned my body to face her. Y/N had worry in her eyes, she seemed scared, and I knew that she would go from worried to disappointed if I told her.

“The last thing I ever want to do in this world is lose you.” I began, “You’re happy, and you have no idea how thrilled it makes me knowing that you have someone in your life that cares for you, but Y/N…I…I’m in love with you.”

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to give my soul just to get them back. Y/N outstretched her arm to put her glass on the coffee table but she missed by a centimeter and the glass shattered on the hardwood floor. She looked like she was going to be sick.

“What?” she whispered, ignoring the mess on the floor.

“I have been in love with you…for years.” I whispered in a breathy voice. The lump in my throat returned and the feeling of nausea washed over me, but somehow I was feeling a weight being lifted off of my chest, “I thought that seeing other girls would take my mind off of me thinking like this but it did nothing…they’re not you. They’re not who I want to see first thing in the morning, they’re not who I want to spend days talking to…I can’t eat, I can’t sleep because my thoughts are keeping me awake and it’s not your fault…it’s mine for feeling this way but I can’t help falling more in love with you every time I see you. I search for you in every girl I meet and I fail to realize they’re not you, nor will they ever be you. I spent years hiding it from you, scared that you would reject me but I’m losing my mind keeping it a secret. I try to distance myself from you in hopes that I won’t love you anymore for the sake of our friendship but it doesn’t fucking work. Nothing works. What fucks me up more is that you’re happy with someone else, and I’m beyond happy for you, and I feel like I shouldn’t tell you because you’re happy and I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but I can’t…I can’t just keep this to myself anymore. I didn’t choose to fall in love with you, Y/N, it just happened.”

I felt a single tear slide down my face and I quickly wiped it with the back of my hand and sniffled as I got up off of the couch. I looked down at Y/N and she was stuck staring at the spot that I had just gotten up from, she had tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized softly.

“I…I just need some time.” she whispered, wiping her face with her hands.

I took it as my cue to leave. I drove home while my mind and heart battled each other, part of me regretted telling her but the other half felt relieved…but at what cost knowing that I lost my best friend.

Y/N’s POV (one month later)

I knocked on the newly painted front door with shaky hands, immediately mentally cursing myself at what I was doing. I tugged on the hem of my oversized jacket as I examined the eggshell colored door, I missed the light periwinkle color the Millers had before on their door. The paint before was beyond chipped from Joji and I peeling the paint off as kids, and what sucked more was that they discontinued the color at Home Depot so they had to settle for this somewhat crappy color. I heard shuffling footsteps approach the door, it was too late to run back next door now. I took a deep breath as I heard the doorknob twist. The door slowly opened and I was met with George’s mother, “Hi, Mrs.Miller.” I nervously smiled.

“He’s upstairs in his room.” she smiled warmly as she took me in for a tight hug.

“How’s he doing?” I asked in a low voice as I shut the door behind me, shoving my hands into my jacket pockets.

“Better…sort of. He doesn’t leave the room unless no one’s home or if we’re asleep. I’ll hear the door sometimes in the middle of the night but that’s about it.” she informed as she lead me to the stairs with her hand on my back.

She told me she was going next door to talk with my mother and I just gave her a slight smile and a nod. Going up the stairs made me want to throw up, the thought of seeing Joji after so long made me nervous and extremely embarrassed. I hadn’t called him or texted him in a month. I was angry, hurt, and confused. Why wouldn’t he tell me how he felt? We told each other everything, no matter how bad it was, but for the same reason I didn’t tell him how I felt. I was hurt for him as well…how could I have not known? If anything, I thought he didn’t like me. I tried making moves on him before and I felt like he’d rejected me on several occasions, or maybe if we had just communicated things without fear, we’d probably be okay, but it’s easier said than done. I’ve always loved Joji…but I thought it would never happen, and so I moved on.or tried to… I broke up with Kevin the week after George came to visit me. I had love for Kevin but I wasn’t in love with him, we would have arguments nearly everyday and he just wasn’t George. I didn’t know what to do…I was contemplating on calling Joji and I didn’t, I was scared and I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to be alone and have time to myself so I could think. So I went to the only place where I knew I would be left alone and away from everyone for some time: my parent’s house. Little did I know, Joji was next door doing the exact same thing.

I reached the top step and made my way down the hall cautiously. I felt like the hallway stretched out for miles as I walked towards Joji’s door. My breathing quickened, my heart nearly falling out of my chest as I finally stood in front of his door. I held my breath as I knocked. There was no answer. I sighed and placed my hand on the doorknob and entered his room. He was sat on his bed looking out his window with a notebook next to him. The walls were decorated the same: posters of artists, pictures of us and his family members, a couple post-it notes still lingered on the walls told me that they haven’t lost their stick. His room hadn’t changed one bit.

“Hey.” I said, trying to catch his attention as I tenderly closed the door behind me.

He turned around quickly, his eyes looking into mine. That’s when I felt it all over again: the butterflies. His hair was wet and I could smell his shampoo from across the room. He wore a gray long-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweats with some fuzzy mismatched socks to complete his ‘homebody’ look.

“I see you’re still a mama’s boy.” I lightly chuckled as I sat down in his comfy desk chair, “I can’t really blame you, I went home to my mom too.”

“Yeah…I know you did.” he said quietly, as he began moving to the edge of the bed, slowly, so that he sat across from me, “I could hear you crying most nights from my window.”

“Yeah…” I sighed in embarrassment, “I was doing some digging the other day while I was cleaning my old room…and I found some stuff.”

I reached into my jacket pockets, not taking my eyes off of his face. I was happy to see him well rested, but the ashtray full of cigarette butts told me he was stressed out of his mind. He stared at the carpeted floor blankly as I searched my pockets.

“Do you remember this?” I asked coyly, retrieving a gold locket from my pocket,”You gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday once everyone left my party.”

“I drove hours for that thing.” he chuckled softly, “You told me you always wanted one but the good legit ones were impossible to find.”

“Do you remember what you put in it?” I asked.

“A picture of us from when we were ten.” he answered.

“I’m a complete dumbass.” I spoke in an unsteady voice as I pulled out a small note from the same pocket with shaking hands, “I couldn’t get the locket to open the other night…I like looking in it when I’m sad but I couldn’t get it open ‘cause it was stuck. It’s an antique so it’s normal for it to get stuck sometimes, and every time it gets stuck, I’d open it cautiously. Well, I tried opening it the other night, and I broke my nail, so I got angry at the damn thing and I threw it at the wall…the picture fell out…and so did this.” I held up the note and I read it, “‘I choose to love you in silence…For in silence I find no rejection, I choose to love you in loneliness…For in loneliness no one owns you but me, I choose to adore you from a distance…For distance will shield me from pain, I choose to kiss you in the wind…For the wind is gentler than my lips, I choose to hold you in my dreams…’“

“For in my dreams, you have no end.” he finished the poem.

“Rumi…” I said, shocked that he remembered my favorite poet from the one time I told him when we were sixteen.

“I didn’t want you to find it, but part of me wanted you to. So I hid it behind the one thing that meant the most to me, inside something that was special to you.” he explained, “It was the only way I felt safe and comfortable telling you how I felt…even if you never got a chance to read it. People say that some things are better left unsaid, and I believed them, but I went crazy when I thought about how I’d have to live with feeling this way forever and not having you know, I just didn’t think I’d lose you in the process…but I can’t lose what was never mine.”

I took a deep, hesitating breath before I spoke, “I fell in love with you when we were sixteen, and every time I ran to you crying about a boy breaking my heart or hurting my feelings was because they didn’t treat me like how you did…they didn’t make me laugh like you did, they didn’t take care of me like you did…they weren’t you, George. I thought about how there were times that I almost told you how I felt…but my fear stopped me. And I can’t begin to imagine how you felt, and I’m sorry for that. Being older now means looking back at all the times we shared when we were younger…and I know that there were times were I felt like you were going to kiss me but you didn’t…but I know now why you didn’t…”

Joji looked down at his hands before he looked back up at me.

“But I really wish you did.” I admitted, “I found love in places where it shouldn’t have thought to grow because I was upset with the thought of being in love with someone who I thought didn’t feel the same way…I know that feeling of being rejected or feeling like you’ll be rejected, George, that fear.” I wiped my tears with the sleeves of my jacket.

I got up from the chair and put it back under the desk before I decided to face him again. I was slightly alerted when I saw he was standing now in front of me. He pulled me in for a tight hug and I gladly hugged back. To feel his warmth, his presence, just to feel him hugging me again after not seeing him for a long time made everything feel right again. I buried my face in his chest, taking in his scent as he rested his chin on my head before he kissed my cheek and hid his face in my neck. We were stood there for what seemed to be hours embracing each other. I rubbed his back softly and I finally whispered, “I’m still in love with you…I never stopped.”

Joji pulled away from the hug and smiled at me, “I love you.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on the tips of my toes so I would be able to reach his lips. I stared at his lips as I bit mine thinking about how I’d been waiting to kiss him for the longest time.

“Are you gonna kiss me or what?” he smirked nudging me gently.

“Shut up.” I laughed.

He dried my wet eyes lightly with the sleeves of his shirt, holding my face in his hands, he leaned in and kissed me softly. It felt right and more than anything I felt safe and home.

#joji miller #joji imagine #Joji #georgemiller #george miller #filthy frank #filthyfrank #cancer crew imagine #cancer crew #CancerCrew #cancer crew fanfic #joji fluff #fluff

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

Text

ask answering/updates

first of all, thank you 💘 second of all...

ok ok ok don’t get too excited, but I finally got the juice to start working on the next part of Fanatic 🖤 most of you guys will be like ‘who cares’ but i know some of you have been waiting for this for a while! it’s been what, 2 months?? hope I’m not jinxing myself by saying this *knocks on wood* also not to hype myself too much but it’s kinda bomb 😳 maybe this is just my sick bias but I’ve really been wanting to write about...aftermath iykwim haha. reader all scared & shy & trying to avoid him but yk he’s not going to leave her alone :P

I also figured out the ending to it will come back!! it wouldn’t be shiggy if it didn’t get dangerous 😈 also gonna be nice to write some eyes-rolling-back-in-the-head fuckery so our favorite handsy creep can finally get his dick wet with his beloved little nursey <3

here are some other vague ideas, some based on requests, some not. as always no promises!!

BNHA—pillage & plunder with fantasy AU warlord Bakugo (and his gang of ruffians?? hmm...)

BNHA—Overhaul makes you work off your daddy’s gambling debts the extra hard way uwu...also I have SO many ideas for Overhaul 😷 after I finish iwcb my next multi-part fic will probably be with him

BNHA—various things with reader as an aspiring villain set in the same universe as Caught in the Act: reader getting quarantined with shiggy & dabi...dabi getting mad at you after you keep fucking up...incel shiggy jacking it to his adorable protégée without her knowledge (a galaxy brain request from a very good buddy!!!!)

BNHA—ABO with alpha Hawks and omega reader in an elevator...and uh-oh, it’s stuck! and you’re going into heat! oh no, whatever will you do??

Haikyuu—you get stuck in a hole in a wall, good thing your dutiful boyfriend Kuroo is there to help you out ;)

Haikyuu—gangbang with Tsukki, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo...a challenge bc I’ve never written a gangbang before!! will have to do some research 🧐

Haikyuu—your bf Atsumu does mean things when he’s jealous, like putting his hands up your skirt in public

KNY—Kokushibou decides to keep a shrine maiden as his cute little human pet 💜 actually already wrote pt. 1 but I’ll wait to post til I’m done with Fanatic

AxK—just some no good very bad yandere content with Dr. Midori...neglect play stuff...sensory deprivation stuff...icky icky

Gintama—something with Kamui. does this count as monsterfucking? very very rough...idk what exactly? some form of dastardly acts

thanks for the concern friends 💕💕 I’ve been preoccupied by things happening irl for the past few weeks, trying to educate myself, going to protests, etc.

also in case anyone else is confused, my stance is and always has been that Black lives matter and all cops are bastards. I’m not sure my porn blog is the right place to talk about this at length but if you’re a bootlicker, please smash that unfollow button and don’t let the door hit you on the way out. if you don’t already have a decently functioning moral compass you should not get anywhere near my writing...fr

learn more and get involved

omg thank you & yes yes a million times yes!!! hope you don’t mind commitment issues and student loan debt 💝👯‍♀️

the line between not hawksfucker and hawksfucker is very thin and very blurry, beware.....lol and thank you!!

the video you recommended...like damn!!! that’s exactly the vibe I feel like fratty Hawks x reader from be a little bad would be like if they had a happy ending eventually (start at 1:39)!!!!! “I didn’t make you do this” “I’m not accusing you of anything” it’s that exact dynamic. imo Hawks might be a little less willing to make things official and reader would prob have a hard time being straightforward enough to ask tho...hmmm

I did get several requests for a part 2! I’m thinking it over atm. I will say tho that most of my reqs have very slow turnaround so if I write it, it might be a while

ooh I love getting recommendations! here’s what I like:

fanfic: I read stuff like what I write (smut, kink, yandere, villains). at some point I’m going to make a long post of fic recs of my own! I also read fluff and character x character ship fic so interests are pretty broad

TV: humor, crime shows like Bones, Criminal Minds, Psych, that kind of thing. nothing too dark or complicated, nothing that requires too much investment. same goes for anime

movies: pretty much everything! lately I’m really into Howl’s Moving Castle and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

books: literary fiction. can I say I’m into dark academia if the only dark academia I’ve read is The Secret History? favorite books I’ve read semi-recently are TSH, All the Light We Cannot See, The Poisonwood Bible, and Discipline & Punish. currently reading Foucault’s History of Sexuality

music: idk man...all kinds of stuff. I listen based on vibe more than genre. all my spotify playlists are named things like “sunday” and “the power” and “[sparkle emoji]”. my artists on repeat are Hozier, The Weeknd, Kendrick, M.I.A., The Neighborhood (F I’m a basic bitch) but I’ll try anything once

jfc these two asks have given me so much hope 🥰😭💗 you know what? sooner or later I’m going to post Kamui x reader smut and it’s going to get 3 notes from the three of us liking it and that’s okay because I’ve thirsted over this man too long and too hard to go my entire life without reading over-indulgent reader-insert porn of him. yes the villain kink jumped out but DAMN!!! the man has ‘h*rny scumbag who lets his instincts rule him’ baked into both his DNA and his psyche, and I’m so here for it 😌

if you don’t know who Kamui is, do me a favor and watch gintama. yes there are like 400 episodes but it’s worth it. I will convert more bitches to the gintama thirst train if it costs me my life. Kamui was made to star in disrespectful breeding kink smut and this is a hill I will die on.

??? sure, if you can point me toward part 2 ????? lmao

I’m guessing you meant to ask for a pt 2 instead of pt 3? in which case, thanks for asking!! but tbh...for some reason I have a really hard time imagining what a pt 2 would look like, maybe because I wrote it 100% from Overhaul’s POV so it’s hard for me to define the reader’s feelings. I’m not saying it’ll never happen but 🤷‍♀️

HOWEVER if it’s Overhaul content in general you’re craving, you’re in luck!!! he’s a favorite of mine. legit he ticks so many of my boxes—villain kink? check. medical/scientist kink? check. yakuza kink? honey I’m weak. I’ll definitely be writing more for him in the future!

oh no! I checked it on my computer & on mobile and all of the links are working for me? are the links still broken for you guys?

anyway, here are the rules, here’s the short version of the request rules, and here is part 1 and part 2 of it will come back.

thank you to everyone who has sent kind words, everyone who replies to my writing, and everyone who posts thirst in the tags!!! I read that shit!!!! and it makes me fucking cry, I love you all

one more thing: several people have requested continuations to Sleepless, Sidekick, and Fanatic. on one hand, I’m so flattered that you guys want more!!! on the other hand, I actually already answered asks about pt. 2′s for those particular fics. before you request a continuation of anything, it’s probably a good idea to look up the name of the fic as a tag on my blog so you can check and see if anyone else had the same question 💖💖💖

#bunny talks #bnha #haikyuu #kny #gintama #AxK #about me #personal #recommendations #updates #yubitsume #bealittlebad #caughtintheact #itwillcomeback

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pixiegrl · 4 years

Note

no rush or anything but you said i could send mashton prompts so, “This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?” would be a lovely mashton prompt i think! love you love all the writing you do

Omg this is like an early Halloween gift. Tbh I almost had them watch an actual scary movie but it’s funnier if like...Michael is just a baby (aka me). Please enjoy the Masthon for Maggie!

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26688082

Michael has a secret. Despite the fact that he is very solidly a self-proclaimed “emo kid,” Michael has never seen Nightmare Before Christmas. He is 25 years old and Michael has not seen what is the probably the most classic emo kid movie. There’s a reason for it though. Michael’s other secret. Michael hates scary movies. Halloweentown made him cry as a kid. The skeletons, the goblins, the ghost in the screen? Michael had screamed and hid in the bathroom, crying until Calum promised that he would turn off and they could watch something else. Michael still hasn’t finished it, paralyzed with fear just thinking about it still. He’s an adult, with a job and a boyfriend and he still shakes a little thinking about that movie. So Nightmare Before Christmas? Out of the question, he doesn’t care if Fall Out Boy or Panic At The Disco covered songs from it. Michael doesn’t care if it’s fun or if Luke and Calum dress up as Sally and Jack for Halloween and everyone says how cute it is. Michael will not watch it.

Michael’s boyfriend, Ashton, however loves horror movies. Loves anything scary or spooky. Ashton owns every copy of Halloween and the old Universal Monster Movies. Michael would rather watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s with Luke again and have Luke sob on his shoulder before he touches any of Ashton’s movie collection. He’s planned their couples costume since January 1st, despite Michael’s protests. He’s been decorating for Halloween since August 1st, covering the apartment in cobwebs and spiders. Michael had come home one day and almost walked into the cobweb, barely holding back a scream of terror. Michael doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t really like all of this, wants to eat candy and hide and watch literally anything else.

Ashton’s favorite holiday movie though? Nightmare Before Christmas. Ashton adores it, has so much merch for it, between cups and plates and some plushies. Can’t stop talking about how it’s his favorite and he’s sad that Calum and Luke got to do the couple costume first because now they can’t. Michael’s relieved about it. There’s no way he’s dressing up as some kind of doll with stitches on his body. He doesn’t care if it makes him a bad emo, they can take his fucking card, as he doesn’t have to be Sally.

They’re making dinner when it happens. Michael’s been busy, focusing on the mac and cheese he’s stirring on the stove while Ashton cuts up some chicken. Ashton’s talking about the movie for the 20th time this week, mentioning that the local theater is doing a shadow play for it and how they should go and get all dressed up and have a good time for date night when Michael finally blurts it out.

“I’ve never seen it before!”

There’s a long pause. Michael knows Ashton is staring at him, the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board no longer there. Michael can feel the hole Ashton is burning into the side of his head as he stares.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Nightmare Before Christmas?”

“That! I mean that! I never saw it as a kid because I don’t like scary movies!”

“It’s not a scary movie though? It’s claymation, it’s meant for kids. Disney made it. And you’re the emo kid!” Ashton says, tone raising in confusion and indignation.

Michael turns to his boyfriend, flustered and red faced, “Well I was a kid and it scared me! That stupid sack creature with the bugs? I hated it!”

“That’s the main villain, how can you hate the villain!” Ashton cries, visibly upset about this.

“I don’t like horror movies. We’ve been over this.”

“Nightmare Before Christmas isn’t a horror movie, it’s art.”

“Shit and you called me the emo kid, Ash,” Michael rolls his eyes, turning back to the macaroni. He will not be shamed for this. It’s stupid and trivial for Ashton to be so worked up about this. Ashton thinks Michael’s video games are dumb how is this any different.

Ashton’s frowning. He’s cutting the chicken up into small pieces and frowning, eyebrows furrowed. Michael sighs.

“What? What could possibly be wrong now?”

“We’re going to watch it.”

“Ashton, no. We are not.”

“Yes we are. You’re my boyfriend and I love you but I love this movie and I want you to watch it with me.”

“Ashton, I love you, but I don’t like scary movies. I don’t want to watch it.”

“Please. I played FIFA for you. I hate FIFA.”

Michael sighs, put out. He’s right of course. Fuck Michael’s going to have to do this isn’t he.

“Fine. I’ll watch the stupid movie.”

Ashton grins, wide and bright, beaming as he planted a kiss on Michael’s cheek. Michael refuses to give in. He’s already dreading this movie.

***

Ashton’s turned the movie into a production. He’s gotten popcorn and candy (M&Ms and Reese’s) and begged Michael to bake the pumpkin cupcakes he likes so much. Michael had grumbled about it because he doesn’t even want to watch the stupid movie, but he’s weak in the face of his boyfriend asking nicely with kisses. All in all, they’ve created the perfect mood for a Halloween movie and Michael wishes they were watching anything besides Nightmare Before Christmas. Michael is still planning how he can get Ashton to watch The Lost Boys instead, the only vampire movie Michael’s ever watched or enjoyed when Saturday night rolls around and Ashton insists it’s time to start the movie.

Ashton’s practically vibrating with excitement as he hits play on the movie, snuggling down into the couch next to Michael. He throws one arm around Michael’s shoulders, looking expectantly at him as the opening song starts. Michael can admit, visually the movie is interesting. The claymation of it is amazing, considering the movie’s from 1993.

They’re not even two minutes in and Michael’s already ansty. There’s a character singing about having snakes for fingers, with the creepiest looking, long fish like face. Michael feels like it’s staring directly at him through the TV screen. He’s relieved when some vampires show up and then immediately unsettled when the Mayor turns his body around. Michael keeps shooting looks at Ashton, who’s so focused on the screen he’s not looking at Michael. Logically Michael knows the movie isn’t scary, but it’s just unsettling enough for Michael to feel a little freaked out.

By the end of the first song, Michael’s decided that he does not like the movie. The creatures are unsettling. The rag doll’s arm has ripped off and stuffing pops out. Michael flinches, glancing over that Ashton. Ashton’s still watching the movie in awe, face lit up. He will say the little ghost dog is cute though. He’s trying to focus on that at least.

“I like the dog,” Michael comments when Ashton looks at him, expectantly. Ashton grins widely, grabbing Michael’s hand.

“I knew you’d say that, Zero’s so cute and you love dogs.”

The skeleton is singing on screen now, the rag doll back with her creepy eyelashes and stitches and Michael remembers Luke’s costume now. Although he doesn’t remember it looking so strange on Luke. The skeleton pops his head off, referencing Shakespeare, popping his head back and smiling too widely for Michael’s low fear tolerance. He squeaks, hand making an aborted move to cover his face. Ashton barely notices, too wrapped up in the movie to pay attention. Michael would pout about it, but he’s just hoping this movie will be over soon.

“He’s going to Christmastown now,” Ashton whispers. Michael snaps his attention back to the screen, seeing the snow on the movie. He relaxes slightly. Christmas seems safe. No monsters or ghouls or creepy things to scare him. Although, maybe it’s the art style but the elves are still creepy. God, Michael regrets finding a boyfriend who likes scary things. He’d be having less heartaches now. He’s barely controlling having to cover his eyes when they go back to Halloweentown. The vampire is pulling his eye out and Michael gags a little. He really doesn’t like the little creepy doctor either, he looks like a fish gone wrong.

“Do you like it?” Ashton asks. Michael hums, trying not to make eye contact with Ashton. God this movie isn’t even that good, nevermind the scary bits. The only thing good about this is the cute dog.

“It’s fine,” Michael says, drifting his attention back to the movie, hoping he doesn’t have to tell Ashton he doesn’t like the movie. Do they all stop singing soon?

The kids are unsettling. The kids are really unsettling. Michael is really trying to not cover his eyes now. They’re too green and blue, with creepy little eyes and the girl has stringy hair. Michael’s starting to wonder if he takes out his phone and starts messing around will Ashton get mad at him. He thinks there’s still like an hour left of this movie. He wants it to be over already.

Michael’s not fully paying attention when the sack monster shows up. He’s only half looking at the screen, hoping if he doesn’t look he’ll stop being so scared. He glances up and all he sees is spiders coming out of the sack creatures eyes.

Michael screams. He screams loudly, too startled and creeped out to care. There’s insects coming out of the sack creature and he can’t take this anymore.

“What the FUCK is that?” Michael screams, pointing at the sack that now has a snake tongue.

Ashton jumps, turning to Michael wide eyed, “That’s the main villain Michael.”

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch this I’m sorry and I love you, but I can’t do this,” Michael stands up, covering his eyes a little. He hates agreeing to this; he doesn’t want to watch this anymore.

“But it’s not even-”

“I don’t care if it’s not over I don’t want to finish it Ashton it’s freaking me out,” Michael mumbles, face still covered. Ashton makes a little sound, but there’s shuffling and the movie clicks off. Ashton rugs gently on Michael, forcing him to sit down. He wraps Michael up in a hug, resting his chin on his head.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry. I really like this movie and I didn’t think it would scare you so bad.”

“I’m not scared, just freaked out a little,” Michael protests even though he’s still hiding a little. Ashton snorts like he doesn’t believe him.

“We can watch something else instead. What about Scooby Doo?”

“Not the zombie one. Too scary.”

“That’s a children’s movie Michael.”

“And I don’t like the zombies in it.”

“Aw, I can leave the light on for you tonight to help you sleep.”

“Shut up or I’m making you sleep on the couch.”

“Probably for the best. Gotta protect you from the zombies.”

“I hate you.”

Ashton laughs, kissing Michael gently, “No you don’t.”

“Fine I don’t.”

“Besides if you kicked me out of bed, who would help battle the claymation monsters trying to break in.”

Michael rolls his eyes, but let’s Ashton tease him anyway. He snuggles into Ashton, as he clicks out of the movie, trying to hunt for something better for them to watch. Michael may hate Halloween, but at least he loves Ashton. Even if he’ll have nightmares now.

#my writing #mashton #michael clifford #ashton irwin #it's a little mashton for maggie #as a treat #calumsclifford #god this was fun to write #michael and i are one

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celestica-1988 · 5 years

Text

As Always

TheDirtNikkiSixxXFemaleReader.

Requested: Yes, by anonymous. Sorry fr the delay, I hope you like it.

“ If you're taking requests for the Netflix movie The Dirt, can I get a Nikki Sixx one-shot where the reader's a singer but a solo artist instead of in a band and she's been Nikki's girlfriend since he was in his band London and he forms Mötley Crüe and the band becomes famous and the reader becomes famous too and she drinks but doesn't do drugs and then Nikki overdoes on heroin like in the movie and it's a mix of angst and fluff?“

You were there since the beginning, even before Mötley Crüe existed.

You always been side by side with Nikki Sixx since day zero and you could remember everything that happened very well.

It was a stormy night, the noise of the rain on the roof was made to recall memories, especially now that things were so uncertain. Nikki presence in your life was so uncertain.

1978.

You remember like it was yesterday how you noticed that young homeless boy with long black hair and leather jacket. You were eighteen, he was around the same age as you. You watched him sleeping on the benchs of the park next to your apartment and you didn’t find the guts to talk to him.

In a rainy night like this one you finally asked him if he wanted to sleep in your house for a night. That was the beginning, your beginning. Nikki never left your house, you become friends and then one night he told you that he loved you, your heart started to beat faster, but it was natural answer “me too”.

You had so much in common: you both spent your teenage years in a foster home, you both have a difficult relationship with your parents and authorities, you both dreamed to hit the big time in music.

Nikki dreamed to create a band who would break the ground and give people something that they never saw before. You were a skilled singer who could also play guitar, you loved Janis Joplin and wanted to do a solo carrier.

Together you encouraged each other.

1981

The year in which Mötley Crüe was created.

At the time Nik was playing in a band called London, but he wasn’t happy. He kept having arguments with the singer, till one evening they fought on the stage. You knew that for Nikki London were over after this and you weren’t wrong. You were sitting in a bar and he was looking for band members on a local music paper.

“I wanna have my own band so I can decide the music I wanna play, Y/N.

I wanna create something new, Y/N. A show who will shock people.”

You nodded and caressed his hair, he had some tissue in the nose due to the fight. At some point a tall and lanky boy with long dark hair showed up to your table. He kept twirling drumsticks and he was a fan of Nikki, you could tell when he said he had a London’s poster. He was like a puppy, Nikki asked him where he learned the drumsticks’ trick, he said he learned it in the school’s band, but he said he did rock too.

And so you found your drummer kid.

After a while Mick came to your apartment and became the guitarist. There were a guy before him, but as much as he tried he didn’t fit with the band’s sound.

The last one was Vince. He was a Tommy’s friend who was already playing in a cover band, you went to a party and gave him a tape with your songs and the phone number. You were sure he would never call, but he did. He and his girlfriend came to the apartment and his voice was the last piece, now the band was complete.

1983.

Mötley Crüe carrier skyrocketed and so you had time to think about yours.

You followed Nikki in the first tour with Ozzy Osbourne, it was funny: parties after every concert, cocaine, alcohol, sex with Nikki.

All these thing made you happy, but on the long run they weren’t enough for you.

So you let him do his own thing.

You kept supporting and loving him, but you stepped back and in some ways you found your balance.

You lived in a mansion with him, when he was at home you spent quality time with him, it was like the time had stopped for you in those day. You and Nikki were still in such a bubble that you ignored the fact that he was too much cocked or drunk.

In the meantime a talent scout noted you while you were playing in a Hollywood local.

You were put under a contract and started to record an album. It was pop music, but still with a rock influence, it was okay. The only thing that bothered you was that you were forced to keep your relationship with Nikki a secret. Your contract said clearly that you should appear single at the eye of the public; least at the beginning, moreover a relationship with such problematic rockstar would not help you in any way according to your manager.

Nikki found it funny, the secret made everything more exciting to him.

So the time you spent together become more and more important and put you two in a bubble.

The bubble burst when one night you found Nikki in the wardrobe with a gun in his hand, shaking, next to him there were a syringe, a tie, a piece of something, a lighter and a bend spoon.

It was heroin, he was addicted to it and you didn’t even noticed.

It was 1985.

You felt a complete idiot.

……………………………………………………

Two years after you were sure idiot was the right word to describe you.

You were a hopeless idiot, who lived for the day Nikki finally would be free from drugs.

The last two years were difficult. The first thing you do was confront Nikki about heroin and why he took such a dangerous drug.

The answer shocked you, it was because heroin gave him that sense of being loved that he didn’t experienced during his childhood. You would ask him why you weren’t enough but you swallowed the question.

Deana started to call Nikki to make things worse and after every call he shot heroin in his vein, you never hated anyone more than his mother. One time you were so done that you smashed the answering machine against the wall. You didn’t want to hear her anymore, you didn’t want Nikki hear her anymore and suffer. His pained expression broke your heart, the tears and then the heroin killed you slowly.

What could you do to stop him?

You talked about it countless times, he always apologized but never said he would do something like rehab, there were some method in the way he was destroying himself and you were frustrated that you couldn’t do anything.

You grew to hate the contract that gave you fame and fans because it didn’t let you move freely on the heroin question. Roadshows were unbearable, you were scared that you would read that Nikki was dead or overdosed.

Even in happy moments Nikki needed drugs: he was completely drugged at Tommy and Heather wedding and you couldn’t stop him.

He was out of control and it seemed you were the only one worried about it

None of the Crüe were doing anything, Tommy said that maybe Nikki liked to stay there, but you couldn’t accept it. You were willing to fight, but he wasn’t.

You sighed thinking about your last fight: once again you found a syringe and Nikki was high of heroin.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t help it, I need heroin.

I need to…”

“Feel loved? Than what am I to you?

I fucking love you, Nikki, I fucking love you before this band circus didn’t even exist, still you said you need to feel loved?

What the fuck should I do?

What the fuck is our relationship?

Do you even love me now?

Because I fucking love you and I’m fucking tired to not know what to do to help you.

Tell me something!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Sorry was the word he used most with you, he was sorry for everything but not willing to change.

“I think I need to reach the rock bottom before doing something, I can’t stop myself, Y/N.”

“Do you know what is the rock bottom? Fucking dying!

How could you do something after you are dead? Nikki, for God sake, let me help you.” He shook his head and that was how the conversation ended.

Now you were with your head in your hands, thinking and thinking about him.

You decided to turn on TV and the news you received was your worst nightmare: Nikki was dead by overdose.

You screamed like an animal, kicked everything you can, smashed things: everything not to think about the fact he was no longer on earth.

You could never talk to him again, nor kissed him or told him you loved him.

He was gone and your last memory of him was you two fighting and his pained expression, why didn’t you just kiss him and make love?

How could you ever know that it was the last time you would see him?

You cried your heart out, you watched your bloody hands and thought that if Nikki were there he surely would kiss them and said some nice words.

But he wasn’t.

He would never kissed you again.

You started to break stuff another time, than you curled up in the debris, holding and smelling one of the Nikki’s t-shirt you stole to him.

It was the fucking end.

It was the fucking rock bottom.

It fucking hurt like hell.

………………..

Some times later you heard the footsteps of someone.

“Y/N?”

Called a voice, it was Tommy.

“Where are you?” “I’m here.” You said in a low tone, Tommy reached you and he kneeled beside you.

“He’s dead, Tommy.

Fucking dead. And the last time we met we fought about heroin, I would give the world just to tell him that I love him.”

Your voice was raspy.

“Y/N, he is alive.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You got up and gave a deadly look at Tommy, he got up too.

“He was declared dead on the ambulance, his heart stopped, but he was revived by a paramedic.

He used two shot of adrenaline and Nikki woke up, he’s in the hospital now and I thought you wanted to see him.” “Is it true, Tommy?”

“Yes, come with me.”

“Sure.” You ran to the door and Tommy followed you.

You jumped in his car and he hurried to reach you. He started the car and you still couldn’t’ believe it was true. You needed to see him to be sure it was real, that Nikki was real.

You didn’t say a word during the drive, your fingers kept tapping nervously.

Finally you were at the hospital, you followed Tommy and you ended up in front of a white door.

“He’s in that room.” “Yes.”

You swallowed your anxiety and fears and you opened it.

Nikki was laying on the bed with his eyes open, you ran to him and then kneeled next to the bed.

You took his hand in yours and kissed it while you were crying.

“You are alive. You are fucking alive, thank God.

I’m so happy.”

Your head lowered on the hands, you felt Nikki’s other hand caressing your hair.

“You are a fucking idiot, but I love you more than my life.

Don’t scare me like that anymore, please.” “Y/N… I love you too, please, kiss me.”

You got up and kissed him softly and slowly, you felt him smile against your lips.

“When I was dying I was thinking about you and to all the shit I put you in.

You always stayed and never left, I don’t deserve you.” “Nikki…”

“But… I guess this is my rock bottom. I can’t lose you because of my own stupidity, I don’t wanna see you cry again for me.

Y/N, I wanna go to rehab and try to fix my life.”

You kissed him again.

“I will be by your side.

Always.”

He smiled.

“You always been…” “And I always will be.” You kissed him again and again.

You meant every single word you said, Nikki was willing to live finally and you weren’t going anywhere.

You two would be together.

As always.

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craving-horans-hug · 6 years

Text

Ben Hardy imagine - Fantasy

Request: The one idea was that Ben and the reader had been dating for a while and he asks her if she had like any fantasies (like ya know) and when she thought about it she got really embarrassed and was like no nvm (because she had been fantasising about making out with him in the Roger Taylor costume or in the Rogerina costume and thought he would think it’s weird af) and one day she was talking to her friend on the phone about it and didn’t know ben was home and he heard and surprised her.

Requests are open!! Ask away!

You were currently sitting on your bed watching “Friends” on Netflix waiting for your boyfriend Ben to come home after a long day of shooting his new movie “Bohemian Rhapsody”. This is usually what you did when Ben was gone during the days, when you don’t have work, or homework from uni you were always watching “Friends”, Ben always made fun of you for it as he couldn’t understand how you could still laugh at the show when you know exactly what each character would say. But in your defence its one of the most iconic shows ever and it never failed to make you smile, which Ben liked.

You can hear keys jiggle at the front door and then hear it open and someone walk in, you get up from the comfort of your bed and walk towards the living room. The smell of pizza fills your nose and you quicken your pace, as you turn the corner you see your handsome boyfriend of 1 and a half years walk into the kitchen and set down a box of pizza on the table.

You walk up behind Ben and wrap your arms around his torso, you feel him relax at your touch and puts his hands over yours, “Hello beautiful,” Ben says smiling, he turns around still remaining in your grip. He brings his hands to cup your cheeks and gives you a chaste kiss on your lips, he lingers his lips on yours for a second looking into your eyes before giving you another quick kiss.

“Hello handsome,” you say smiling up at him, “how was your day?” you ask as you hug him tightly.

“Better now that I’m home with you.” he mumbles in your neck, he pulls away and reaches behind to grab the pizza box that was sitting on the counter. “I got your favourite, thought we could have a night in.” he says pulling you into his side leading you to the bedroom.

“Honestly that sounds amazing, I just started to rewatch ‘Fr-”

“Friends?” he asks with a chuckle before you can finish, he knows you too well.

“Of course, what else.” you say jokingly, you get into bed opening the pizza box as Ben sheds his clothes from the day. You can’t help but watch his toned body change into more comfortable clothes.

“Wow, you brought home a meal and a snack.” you say trying not to laugh at your lame pick up line.

Ben stops mid-way putting on his shirt, “did you really just call me a snack?” he says smirking at you.

“Maybe.” you say laughing while eating you pizza, he just shakes his head and continues to put on his shirt. He climbs into bed sitting next to you and grabs a slice of pizza while putting his arm around your shoulders, you hit ‘play’ and continue watching your show cuddled up in Ben’s side.

About 2 episodes into the show you’re both cuddling, Ben has you in front of him between his legs while his arms are wrapped around you from behind. It’s the episode where Ross and Rachel are in bed talking about their fantasies and this got Ben thinking.

“Love?” Ben asks quietly in your ear, you hum in response, your focus never leaving the screen, “do you happen to have any fantasies?” he asks curiously. This caused you to pause the tv and turn to look at him, you had never discussed anything like this with Ben before. Yeah you guys had sex (quite a lot) but you had never talked about your secret kinks and other things like that, of course you had fantasies but you always thought Ben would judge you for them.

“No not really,” you lie, “do you?” you ask looking up at him.

He smirks and squeezes you a little tighter, “I’ve had a few” he says kissing just under your ear. “You’ve really never had any?” he asks rubbing your arm with his thumb. You begin to panic now, you don’t want to tell Ben about your countless thoughts of him dressed in his Roger Taylor costume banging you into next week.

So you simply shrug and just answer, “Nope.” emphasizing the ‘P’ as you press ‘play’ and nervously bite your nails. Ben knows you all to well and knows that when you bite your nails you’re either nervous or hiding something. He doesn’t want to push you so he mutters a quiet ‘okay’ and kisses the side of your head continuing to watch the show, but the conversation never leaving his mind.

The next day you were doing laundry while Ben was on set, he had another long day ahead of him so you decided to keep yourself busy. You had already been to the grocery store, taken Frankie for a walk, and even had lunch with your mother, doing laundry was the final thing on your list.

As you take the clothes out of the dryer you hear your phone ring from your bedroom, dropping the clothes in the bathroom you jog to your room so see who was calling. Y/F/N’s picture pops up and you hit ‘accept’.

“Hey Y/F/N” you say into the phone sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Y/N you’re gonna die, I just got off the phone with Lydia and she fucking trashed Ryan’s car!” Y/F/N says laughing into the phone, obviously excited to tell you about new gossip.

“No fucking way,” you say moving more onto the bed so you’re laying on your stomach, you put your phone on speaker as you scroll through Lydia’s Instagram to see that she deleted all photos of her and Ryan from her feed. The conversation goes on for about an hour, you’ve switched topics about 10 times because conversations with Y/F/N are never short. You didn’t even realize that Ben had walked in the front door, he wasn’t supposed to be home until later tonight but the director let everyone go home early. He called out your name but you didn’t hear him, as you were still talking on the phone. Ben jogs up the stairs and before he can reach for the door knob he hears you talking and he stops himself at the mention of his name.

“Hey I wanted to talk to you about something that happened last night with Ben,” you say nervously into the phone, biting your nails.

“Oh my god what happened? Did you guys break up?!” Y/F/N says frantically.

“No! We didn’t don’t worry,” you say reassuringly, “it’s just, we were watching ‘Friends’ an-”

“Not surprised.” she says sarcastically.

“ANYWAYS,” you say rolling your eyes, ”he asked me if I had any fantasies about, you know....us in the bedroom.”

“Ooooo I like where this is going, what did you tell him.” she sings excitedly.

“I said no because its way too embarrassing to talk about with him.” you say as you continue to bite your nails.

“So you do have fantasies then.” she said smugly.

“Well yeah, I’m sure everyone does.” you say matter-o-factly.

“I knew it!” Ben whispers to himself outside of the door.

“Well what is it? It can’t be that bad.” Y/F/N says, assuring you that its nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Well,” you pause, debating if you should even say it out loud. She’s your best friend, she wouldn’t judge you. Right? “He just looked so hot when I saw him on set last week dressed as Roger Taylor, like seeing him in that white leather vest and long blonde hair DID something to me Y/F/N.” you say seriously, thinking back to how incredibly sexy he looked that day.

Ben’s eyes widen as he hears what you just admitted, he never knew that - that costume had such an effect on you, he thinks back to that day on set and you were all over him, especially when you got home nearly breaking the bed that night.

“Wooooo! Y/N you little fox!” Y/F/N yells into the phone clapping her hands, obviously excited as she's never heard you express anything like that before.

“Stoooop!” you laugh into the phone burying your head into a pillow.

Ben smiles to himself and quietly walks down the stairs, grabs his keys and back out the front door without you noticing. Boy were you in for a treat tonight.

A few more hours goes by and you finished folding the laundry that you had left, you and Y/F/N got off the phone about an hour ago as she had to go to work for the night. You look at the time and begin to wonder where Ben was, he should’ve been home by now at least and you began to worry but then again he probably got stuck on set for reshoots and forgot to text you. You manage to get all the laundry done and as your putting new pillow cases on your pillows you hear the front door open and close.

“Hey babe! I’m in the bedroom!” you yell as you continue with the pillows, a few seconds later you hear the bedroom door creek open, your back facing it and you hear Ben say, “perfect.” quietly.

“What?” you say confused as you finish with the pillows, you turn around and freeze in place once you see Ben. He standing in the doorway with his arm above his head leaning against the doorframe, his other hand is resting on his hip and he is wearing his Roger Taylor costume. He’s wearing the white vest with the tassels on the sides, tight black leather pants, and wearing his long blonde wig. Your breath hitches and you don’t know what to do, or say.

“Uhhh” is all you managed to say while you looked at him shocked, your eyes scanning his toned body, bare biceps flexed, his abs peeking out from the vest.

“You like what you see there love?” he asks while smirking, taking his raised arm off the doorframe and begins to make his way towards you.

Speechless, you are speechless. All you can do is nod your head slowly, eyes never leaving his frame.

“I thought I’d surprise you, maybe show you what its like to be a groupie for the night.” he says face right in front of yours, noses almost touching as he plays with a strand of your hair. His eyes scanning your face hoping that this is exactly what you had fantasized about.

“What do you say beautiful?” he whispers, lips almost touching yours.

“o-okay” you say stuttering, you are in such a state of shock you can’t even speak properly. Obviously either Y/F/N told him what you said today or he somehow came home and heard you, but you don't even care at this point.

“Good.” Ben (or Roger ;) ) says, he closes the gap between you two and kisses you, he cradles your head between his hands slipping his tongue in your mouth instantly, you grab onto the sides of his vest and pull him closer into you. You feel his hands leave your face and they land on the back of your thighs as he picks you up and carries you to your bed, lips never leaving yours. He lays you onto the bed, hovering above you between your legs.

“So you’re in a band huh?” you say jokingly as he kisses down your neck.

Tonight you two were definitely going to break the bed.

I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED!!!! @barbarairene-k

97 notes · View notes

rosegoldcas · 7 years

Note

Could you do number 5 with Gerard and Frank?

Of course! I’m sorry it took so damn long, I’ve just been swamped with work lately.

This is actually the second story request I got with the same prompt. This actually turned out to be a pretty fun experiment of how I can make one prompt work for two completely different stories. This one was an especially fun one to write. Enjoy!

Prompt: “I’m going to take care of you, Okay?”

“It’s Not Like That” -by Petekeyfromyesterday

***

Gerard settled into his spot on the couch, tucking his legs under him and settling his bowl of popcorn on his lap. He grabbed a handful of the snack and tossed a few kernels into his mouth as he turned on his tv and flipped through the channels. He rolled his eyes as page after page of reality tv shows and infomercials flickered on the screen.

“Fucking hell,” he thought, chewing at another handful of popcorn. “The one night I get alone, and there’s nothing on.”

The black-haired teenager kept on flipping through the channels, hoping something, anything interesting, would appear on the scroll. Suddenly, he was interrupted by a loud knock at his door. He looked up at the door suspiciously, wondering who could possibly be on the other side past midnight? He tallied his thoughts quickly, and came to the conclusion that whoever it was was either there to kill him or ask him to join a cult.

He tiptoed over to his door quietly and looked through the peephole. He recognized the face on the other end immediately; black hair, nose and lip rings, big brown puppy eyes: it was Frank Iero.

“He must be here to kill me,” Gerard sighed, opening up the door and looking at his friend. Frank looked up at Gerard and smiled brightly.

“Gee,” He beamed, happily.

“Hi, Frank,” Gerard greeted, casually. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to see you.” He leaned against the doorframe, seeming a little unsteady.

“Now?” Gerard furrowed his brow confusedly. “You know what time it is, right?”

“Not really,” Frank admitted. “Can’t a guy come visit his friend without getting grilled about it?”

Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but backtracked on his plan immediately. It didn’t seem like it was worth it to argue with Frank. Especially right then.

“Can I come in?” Frank asked, surprising Gerard with his politeness.

“Of course.” Gerard opened up the door all the way and stepped to the side, allowing Frank to pass him. “My parents are away for the weekend and Mikey’s at some party right now. We could watch a movie or something if you want.”

“That sounds great.” Frank stepped through the door politely, which was a surprise to Gerard. It was as if Frank was walking into a brand new friend’s house for the very first time. It wasn’t like Frank to walk into Gerard’s house and act like he was someone who didn’t belong there.

Gerard eyed his friend suspiciously, wondering what could possibly be going on inside his head that was making him act so strange. He looked out into his neighborhood, scanning it for suspicious people. Perhaps Frank was being chased by someone? He didn’t see anyone there, but he decided not to take his chances and locked the door behind him immediately.

“You made popcorn,” Frank observed, settling into his own spot on the couch. “Sick!”

Frank didn’t technically live there, but he might as well have; every day after he got out of school and on most weekends, he was over at Gerard’s house. If Gerard hadn’t been to Frank’s house and met his mom before, he would’ve suspected that the shorter boy didn’t have a solid home to go to.

“Yeah,” Gerard replied, keeping a close eye on Frank. “You can have some if you want. I think there’s some cayenne left. Let me check.”

“Cayenne?” Frank perked up and looked over at Gerard, surprisedly. “I thought you hated spicy food.”

“I do.” Gerard spun the spice rack around, picking up the little container labeled ‘cayenne’ and grabbing an empty bowl before waking back over to his friend. “I just know you like your popcorn with cayenne. I never understood it, but hey, what do I know? Here.”

Frank took the bowl and the little plastic spice container in his hands and smiled delicately.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” He said, pouring some of of Gerard’s popcorn into his own bowl and dusting it with a layer of the hot spice.

“What, that you like hot stuff?” Gerard chuckled. “I’ve had dinner at your house before; I know how you like your food.”

“No.” Frank grabbed some popcorn and chewed loudly. “That I like cayenne on popcorn. I must’ve told you that, what, five years ago? And you remembered.”

“Oh yeah,” Gerard recalled, with a smile. “I remember that day! You pissed me off so much!”

“Ugh, you were such a goody-goody back then,” Frank snarked, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I snuck in anything big, it was just a little thing of cayenne. Plus, was anyone really gonna check a teenage kid’s pants for contraband spices? We got off scot free!”

“I was not a goody-goody,” Gerard laughed at the story. “I snuck in candy and drinks as much as you did. I was mad because you took the bucket of popcorn that I got for us to share and dumped your cayenne all over it when you knew I didn’t like spicy food!”

“To be fair, you didn’t tell me we were gonna share it,” Frank defended, with a chuckle. “We got there so damn early! When you asked me to save your spot and left, I assumed you were getting another thing of popcorn for yourself.”

“What was it we saw again?” Gerard asked. “I remember liking the movie a lot, but all I can remember right now is how pissed I was at you.”

“Edward Scissorhands,” Frank responded, with a grin. “That was a good fucking movie, actually.”

“You cried at the end!” Gerard realized, as he remembered watching the movie. “I’d never seen you cry before! I didn’t even know what to do.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t cry too, asshole.” Frank broke eye contact with Gerard and blushed bashfully as he defended himself. “Burton’s a genius.”

Gerard laughed softly as he stared at Frank’s cute, blushing face. When the laughter died down, however, so did the happy vibe between them.

“Frank, why are you really here?” Gerard asked, sensitively. “I’m not gonna kick you out or anything, I promise. I just don’t want you to lie to me and say things are okay when they obviously aren’t.”

“Nothing,” Frank lied, gulping nervously. “I-I don’t know…”

“Frank,” Gerard spoke softly, pushing Frank’s chin up so the two of them were looking each other right in the eyes. “Tell me.”

Gerard’s face was one Frank couldn’t lie to, no matter how hard he tried. He knew this, and as he stared into his best friend’s eyes, he realized he needed to speak the truth. He both feared and loved Gerard’s ability to see right through him.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, averting his eyes from Gerard as he spoke. “I-I was laying there for hours. This little voice in my head just kept telling me that I didn’t deserve to be happy. That nobody really cared about me at all.”

“That’s awful!” Gerard exclaimed, emotionally. He would’ve leaned in and hugged Frank tightly, but he refrained; he knew Frank was too uncomfortable with hugs for that.

Frank looked back up to face Gerard, his puppy eyes pooling with sadness, and continued his story.

“The first thing I thought of was to come see you. I didn’t want you to think I was coming to you for help, I just wanted to talk to you. I knew you’d make me feel better. You always do. That was selfish of me.”

“Don’t say that-“

“No, it’s true,” Frank sighed, his sadness eating away at him. “You were enjoying your time alone and then I had to ruin it with my neediness. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that-“

“I should go.” Frank’s voice weakened as he spoke. He tried to leave, but felt Gerard’s hand tightly clutch his wrist.

“Please stay.” Gerard’s voice was also weakening as he spoke. “I’m not gonna let you go. Not like this. I-I can’t let you… what if y-you-“

He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he took a deep breath, steadied his voice, and looked right into Frank’s eyes dominantly.

“I’m gonna take care of you, okay? You’re gonna stay here until you feel better. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re my best friend. I’m not- I’m not losing you.”

“Best friend,” Frank sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek. “There it fucking is.”

“What?” Gerard gasped, surprised at the abrasive sarcasm in Frank’s voice. “Wh-what did I do? What’s wrong with us being best fr-”

“I love you, Gerard!” Frank shouted, a sob escaping his throat and more tears streaming down his face. “I always have! I-I always wanted to tell you, but I knew you’d tell me it wasn’t like that. ‘Not in that way, Frank.’ Go on, say it! Fucking say it!”

Gerard’s mouth hung open in shock as Frank went through the emotional moment. Silence.

“Say it, Gerard,” Frank’s voice shook as he closed his eyes and began to cry harder. “Tell me it’s not like that for you. Crush me. Give me something. I wanna know the tru-“

Without warning, Gerard leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Frank’s cheek. As he leaned back into his seat, he exhaled and smiled softly, opening his eyes to the sight of Frank’s shocked face.

“Did-did you…”

“Yeah.” Gerard laughed, the sadness in his voice slowly transitioning to happiness. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

Frank and Gerard looked into each others’ eyes for a moment, each of them silently letting the other know exactly what needed to be known. After that single moment, however, it was Frank’s turn to be the surprising one. Before Gerard knew what was happening, the shorter boy had practically pounced in him and attacked him with a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. Before the taller boy knew it, he was lying on his back on the couch, the shorter boy on top of him, kissing him as if he were making up for years of missed time. Feeling his heart beat faster, Gerard pushed Frank away from him, separating from the kiss.

“Frank, please stop.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to move too fast-“

“That’s not the problem!” He pushed Frank off of him and ran off, into the kitchen. “My mouth is fucking burning! Fuck!”

It took Frank a moment or two to realize what had happened.

“Oh my fucking god, the cayenne!” He exclaimed, placing his fingertips over his mouth shamefully. He stifled a chuckle, ashamed that he found the situation somewhat funny as well as incredibly humiliating.

“Gerard, I’m sorry,” He called, unable to stop his laughter.

“Shut up, Frank!” Gerard looked out from the kitchen door and over to Frank. He shoveled spoonfuls of yogurt into his mouth, trying to calm the burning in his mouth.

“Gerard, I’m sorry.” Frank calmed his voice and sincerely apologized. “I didn’t mean to laugh— its just that I realized something: I’m always gonna remember my first kiss as the time I accidentally burned your mouth with cayenne.”

“That was your first kiss?” Gerard grinned softly, in spite of the burning pain he felt. “That’s so cute!”

“Yeah, it was.” Frank grinned. “And it was really good up until the last bit.”

“I disagree,” Gerard chuckled. “I’d say it was pretty hot the whole time.”

Both Frank and Gerard burst into side-splitting laughter at the same time. Despise the pain and the embarrassment they had caused each other that night, the two of them couldn’t have pictured a better night.

#frerard #Frank Iero #gerard way #mcr #my chemical romance #ship #prompt #Fanfic #fanfiction #high school AU

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taiwanpuppetryproudthunderbolt · 5 years

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interview 15

Richard Chamberlain - How he keeps the Faith in his Private Life

"Fame isn't the answer. The answer is allowing yourself to be who you are."

"I'm not interested in being a multimillionaire; I want to do the kind of work that interests me. When I was beginning, I wanted to do everything: films, TV, modern things, period things, classics, musical theatre, I wanted to make records and I also wanted to paint. I'm a medium with occasional goods. I took dance lessons, and I have discovered that you can't do everything, but I've done a lot of it."

In a company town, Hollywood, where a favorite indoor sport is to trash everyone, its almost impossible to find anyone with a sour word to mutter about Richard Chamberlain.

The erstwhile Dr. Kildare, perhaps unintentionally, has made a secondary career of winning friends. He is Mr. Nice Guy wherever you turn.

He is therefore going against casting in his current role of Father Ralph in the ABC-TV mini-series, The Thorn Birds. For those unfamiliar with the best-selling Colleen McCullough's supernovel, Fr. Ralph does just about everything a priest isn't supposed to from having money of his own - courtesy of the character played by Barbara Stanwyck - to not being obedient or chaste.

In fact, there are those who might consider him a bit of a rotter. Not so Richard. We're sitting in his offices at The Burbank Studios just a few months after he has finished production on this massive film. He is about to don another hat: that of executive producer on a TV movie for CBS, hence the office setting complete with a round black glass conference table and comfortable chairs. Only successful executive producers rate such perks. But enough business talk. We are here to discuss The Thorn Birds, how he feels about yet another blockbuster following his so-successful Shogun and his real life.

First of all, Richard doesn't believe that Father Ralph behaved in such a reprehensive manner. "He followed his destiny," he states. "That process brought him to a kind of humility he never would have found otherwise. He needed to do that. He needed to fall from grace. I'm not saying all priests do; Ralph was too in love with the image of a perfect priest, with the glamour," he explains.

Those sentences give one a clear indication of what makes Richard Chamberlain tick. He's a perfectionist, although certainly not a bore - far from it - but he does get inside the character he plays. That's what makes him such an outstanding actor.

For this part, he researched Catholicism with Father Terry Sweeney, a Jesuit priest. He visited a Jesuit novitiate and stayed over with the young novices. "I had never before been involved with organized religion, and I got the feeling of what it's like to be part of a group of people who put the love of God and humanity before personal happiness. It is unusual and rare. The novitiates I met are in the process of doing that," he learned.

The painstaking research aside, working in TheThorn Birds was a grueling six-month assignment. A large portion of the nine hours was filmed in the Simi Valley, north of Los Angeles, where an exact copy of the Australian Drogheda landscape has been built. And it was hot. Richard's priestly garb, donned in layers, must have been well nigh unbearable.

With a boyish grin, he acknowledges that it wasn't an actor's dream come true, commenting that the plastic collar cut into his neck a lot. Just another of the ordeals that an actor goes through for the sake of a great role.

And a great plum it is. "I wanted it when I first read the book four years ago. I salivated over the part; it was such a wonderful love story. I chased after the part for years. I told my agents I wanted to do it; at that time, it was to be a feature movie and it went through the hands of numerous producers. They had Robert Redford at the top of all their lists. So I waited it out, like I did with Shogun. When they realized it couldn't be a film and Warner Bros. decided on a mini-series, then I knew I was in a good position. The producers - David Wolper and Stan Margulies - wanted me - and it became a dream come true," he says comfortably.

The dream realized, Richard was in the same position as all other actors when a role is complete: he was out of a job. "I have the actor's habit of thinking once a job is over I'll never be hired again. I can get very anxious about not working. It doesn't go into anxiety attacks, but there is a sense of fickleness about the business. If I allow myself, I can worry a lot."

He didn't allow himself to this time. Instead he took off for two and a half weeks to his little house in Hawaii. He has what he describes as, "a place on the beach in the toolies where there is nothing to do except eat." Or so he says. It doesn't show on his trim waistline two weeks after he has returned.

"I had forgotten what it was like to spend a day doing nothing. I kept saying I must be doing something wrong, this can't be right. I had a vague guilty feeling. So I just lay there on the beach and I didn't do anything," he laughs. "I find it an incredibly healing experience to go there. It's a wonderful change from the madness around here," he motions to indicate Hollywood. "I'd like to go there more often. As it is, I get there twice a year if I'm lucky."

The house has a live-in caretaker who looks after the property while its famous owner is gone. It is also rented out, through an agent, so the tenants never know that they're sleeping in Richard Chamberlain's bed. Pity.

It would appear that Richard is indeed the golden boy we all envy, whose life has been comparatively uncluttered with the "stuff" that make most of us miserable. And looking at him, handsome, trim, relaxed, just a few flecks of gray in the beard and mustache he has grown for his next part, he reflects total peace and tranquility. He's sipping a cup of herb tea from a delicate Japanese cup, NOT imported from Japan as were many of his household furnishings. Shogun did leave an impression on him.

He admits of being happier with his life as it is today than in previous years.

"As I look back, one of my big motivations for working so hard in this business in the early times was to find for myself a kind of self-worth which I imagined I would see reflected from the world when I became famous. It didn't work." He laughs shortly. "Being well-known has worked in other ways, but it didn't make me particularly happy. When I first realized that wasn't gonna work, I found other ways to work on myself, through Gestalt therapy, and working with Dr. Brugh Joy (a world-renowned metaphysician who gave up his medical practice to work with groups at his establishment in California's Lucerne Valley. Richard brought the film rights to Dr. Joy's book, Joy's Way, three years ago, and has a contract to produce and star in the story for CBS. He hopes to get it under way later this year.)

"Fame isn't the answer. The answer is allowing yourself to be who you are. I grew up at a time when certain values were deeply impressed upon children: in school and at home. There was a certain image to be maintained and a certain goal to be achieved."

One must bear in mind that Richard was born and raised in the rarefied atmosphere of Beverly Hills, where most of his friends at school were super-rich. His own father was a first salesman for a market fixture company, and then took over the firm. But he still wasn't raised in an atmosphere of wealth.

He became interested in acting while he was in college, but recalls, "My family wasn't enthused about my going into show business. They'd seen me in some college productions," he laughs. "I did want to go to college, but in my senior year I made a decision to take the gamble and get into acting. They didn't say 'don't do it'; they were supportive and they helped me, even though they didn't say 'Oh boy, this is terrific'."

His career proceeded normally: he studied with noted acting coach Jeff Corey, he got minor roles in a dozen TV shows, and in 1961 he got really lucky with Dr. Kildare. By the time that show had finished its run - there were 132 one-hour shows between 1961 and '65 and 57 half-hour episodes the following year - Richard Chamberlain was a big star. So big, he wondered if he'd live down his reputation of being the noble young doctor who did everything including make house calls.

He did what was then considered a rash step: he moved to England and worked in repertory. "I went to England because I felt it the best place to go and study. I had this real powerful hunch that I should go there and study. I was attracted to British theatre and I had amazing luck."

Indeed. He got raves for his role in a six-part adaptation of Henry James' Portrait of a Lady on the BBC. He appeared in Hamlet, The Madwoman of Chaillot, Julius Ceasar, and played composer Peter Tchaikovsky in the Music Lovers opposite Glenda Jackson. There was more Shakespeare, other classics, and when he played Aramis in two versions of The Three Musketeers followed by Cyrano de Bergerac, no one made anymore jokes about the boyish Dr. Kildare. Richard Chamberlain had arrived, as a serious actor of the theater and films. Deservedly so.

He is, of course, delighted that he listened to that powerful hunch, as he terms it. "I always try to listen to my inner voice. That seems to be one of life's most ironic essences: that very soft little voice of intuition is so easy to ignore, yet it's so often accurate. I always choose my roles intuitively. They appeal to me for reasons I couldn't say. I always have an answer as to why I choose a role, but the answer really is that it has a magnetic quality. Now, as a producer, I know that I read scripts looking for ways to make scenes work, and ideas that come up seemingly from nowhere. They just spring into my mind. It's not an intellectual process. Oh, it is to some extent, but it is largely emotional and intuitive."

As noted, here is a man who is comfortable with himself and he doesn't have to prove anything anymore. He's done that. So, when asked how he can top the role of Father Ralph, he says easily, "I don't think in terms of topping things. Everything is different and real to me. My next movie, titled By Reason of Insanity is for my own production company. I play a man named John Balt, who murdered his wife, spent years in an institution in therapy and is now back in society as a contributing member. In fact, he wrote his own life story, which this is. This story goes into areas I've never touched upon, so it's a vast challenge.”

"After Shogun and Thorn Birds, I find my interests are turning back to more ordinary parts - not that the John Balt story is ordinary, it isn't. He's an ordinary man who gets caught in an incredible vortex. Yes, I have leaned towards larger-than-life roles and that might have something to do with the fact that I have a very romantic nature. I didn't find life terribly interesting when I was a little kid. I hated school and I didn't like sports. I didn't like anything that anyone else liked. I felt out of it. It isn't that I didn't have friends. I did. And I had a pretty good time, but I was always fascinated by adventure movies. Especially Errol Flynn. But the other night when I couldn't sleep I turned on an old Errol Flynn movie and it was boring. It didn't hold up. The Three Musketeers and that kind of swashbuckling does, but not the one that I saw," he mock mourns.

Every actor has a dream role, and Richard has played such variegated parts - has he played it already or is his dream part still in the future?

"I think John Balt is as fascinating a part as I'll ever get. What are dream roles? Roles that call for words like depth and complexity, people who want things passionately and have to overcome tremendous obstacles to get them. My theory about John is that he wanted wholeness in his life that he unconsciously felt wasn't there. I think murdering his wife was unnecessary, but who am I to say that? He was living a life complying to images. He had an image of manhood, an image of the writer, of the husband and father, and he never said 'Who am I, what kind of man am I, what kind of father, do I love my children?'"

"Who am I?" Richard repeats the question. "I'm beginning to get answers at long last. What I am is an ever-changing alive being, who is not an image, who is not consistent, and I'm beginning to allow myself to BE instead of trying to be consistent and trying to comply to images. Images such an American hang-up. And so here I am in a business where images are more powerful than almost anyplace else except sports. I have found that I have warmth and lovingness and creativity. I might have doubted that before. I'm much more comfortable with people, much more willing to speak my mind. I don't have to try to manipulate people into liking me. I don't. I thought that I did." He is very thoughtful now and seems to enjoy looking within.

What are his long-range goals these days after 20-plus years of a good and rewarding career?

"I've done some satisfying work in the theatre, and I'd like to do more but I find it difficult to find the time. I want to continue along the lines I've been pursuing. I really like what I've been doing. I like my mobility in TV, I want more emphasis in films. I think I'm ready for that."

"And I like my life. I've finally created a home that I really love. I've had several houses, but I just remodeled this one - in a quiet canyon street, and it's just perfect for me. It's slightly Oriental, slightly Japanese. I brought back a lot of stuff from Shogun."

And who lives in this perfect house?

Just Richard Chamberlain and his pals. "I have two dogs," he says with all the love in the world in his voice. "Two Dalmatians: Jessie the Bandit Queen and Billy Boy."

And what does Jessie steal to merit that colorful name?

"My heart," he says in a tone that any animal-lover can recognize.

And so, then, one knows that Richard Chamberlain, a really happy man, does indeed have it all.

http://www.richard-chamberlain.co.uk/online.htm

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interview 32

Dick Diagnoses Dick His candid answers to 55 probing questions

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jaehyunskitten22 · 7 years

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Important // Namjoon Scenario // fluff

A/N: My sister was talking about cuddling with Namjoon and somehow I got this from that lol. For fair warnings sake, there is a kind of panic/anxiety attack in this and a slight mention of self injury (but nothing graphic I promise!) I will put that section in italics so if you want to skip it you can, it won’t really hurt your understanding of the story if you don’t read it. I hope you enjoy!

Namjoon said that he would be done hours ago. Of course you understand that this is very important to him and of course you understand that 'you can't rush the process' and that this process took a long time, which was okay, but you needed to talk to him. You even offered to leave, knowing that this track was important and even telling him so, but his response was nothing more than a simple:

"You're important too."

And he begged you with his eyes to stay, to keep him company, to cherish the time that you guys got together and not waste it. You readily agreed, knowing that you had been lonely in his absence and thinking that you would be content with just staring at the back of his head for a little while longer, he just had 'one more bit to go'.

He was wrong, and so were you.

'One more bit' turned into another bit, which turned into another hour, him wanting perfection, but you were wanting comfort. A shoulder to lean on, someone to hug you and make you feel like things were going to be alright. Maybe you shouldn't bother him with your stupid problems, them seeing completely irrelevant and mundane compared to the complexity of the issues that he was facing, but you were still hurt. You felt unimportant, like a burden, confused, and not knowing why. You felt like you were slowing him down and you knew that people finding out that he was friends with a fat girl would cause him problems, and you didn't want that to happen. You were growing cold on the couch, both physically and mentally, your brain feeling like a fuzzy TV screen, and you really just wanted to go home and cry, trying to get his help was a mistake. You had grown way too dependent on him, and grown too attached. You had grown to love him more than a friend should, and you needed to get away from him before he found out. Maybe you could go home now, he didn't even know that you were feeling this way or that you wanted to talk to him, it would be easy.

"Joon, I think I'm gonna go." You stood to leave, not really trying to meet his confused gaze, and you shuffled towards him, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, mumbling a quick 'I love you'.

"Hey, you don't have to go. I got distracted with this, I didn't mean to ignore you. We can hang out now, if you want." He reached out his hands and slid them down your arms, wrapping his hands loosely around your wrists with a bashful smile. You briefly considered staying again, but the tingles and jittery feelings of his hands on your squishy arms reminded you of your need to go. You smiled tiredly, your round cheeks protesting against the simple action, and shook your head.

"It's fine, Joonie. I have to get up early for class tomorrow anyway. I'll text you." You weren't sure if you lied or not, your mind was blank and you weren't sure of anything at this point. You bent over and tugged your boots over your chubby calves and tugged your hoodie over your head, fluffing out your hair and offering a wave while you walked out the door, closing it with a small sigh. Everything would be fine.

Everything was not fine. As soon as you walked through the door to your apartment, you felt frustration build up in your chest, not understanding what was going on, what had went wrong to make you feel this way. It was nothing short of a miracle that you managed to keep it together during the walk home, the brisk night air gave you something to focus on. There wasn't a distraction here. The silence of the apartment closed you in, made you feel like a caged animal with no where to go or hide. It told you that it knew everything, your shortcomings, your flaws, your fears and doubts, and it mocked them. You turned on music, trying to fill the silence with something, anything, but it was still there. You found yourself pacing, walking around in a circuit- in front of the silent TV, the window and door, behind the couch. You started digging, sinking your nails into the chubby skin of your forearms and picking and scratching, needing to fidget, needing to distract. You couldn't think to turn on the TV, you couldn't think to maybe call someone, like your sister or friend, and have them talk to you about unimportant tasks, distracting you from yourself. You were crying, you felt the tears streaming down your face but there was nothing you could do. You were trapped, a prisoner of your own mind.

You woke up the next morning in your bed, not remembering getting there but also remembering that you blacked out when things became too much, your mind being put on neutral and your body just going through the motions. You had no class today, you accidentally lied to Namjoon, and you were thankful and upset. Thankful, because you felt like an exhausted mess, and upset because there were no distractions. You sent a brief text to Namjoon, apologizing for your odd behavior and apologizing for being wrong about having class today. You shut your phone off without waiting for a response and chucked it somewhere on the couch next to you. You flipped on the TV, looking through the channels aimlessly until you settled on some nature documentary, it being the perfect background for you to zone back into your thoughts.

School was going well enough, your social life was lacking but then again it always has, nothing 'bad' had really happened lately. You still felt like you were being too reliant on Namjoon, too clingy and needy, loving him too much, and you knew that you wanted to distance yourself from him a little bit, learn to deal with things on your own. You decided to turn your phone back on after you managed to rethink every single one of your life choices and regretted them in some way, needing the distraction and something to focus on, to keep you occupied; the nature documentary wasn't cutting it. You received an influx of notifications, most from Namjoon, all asking you if you were upset, if you needed to talk, to all of which you just responded with a simple 'no' and you started scrolling through Instagram, double-tapping every single post without even looking at the picture or reading the caption, the rhythmic tapping somehow calming you a little. You put your phone on 'do not disturb', Namjoon had grown a little irritating, texting you constantly and trying to get you to respond, he was 'worried about you' and saying that you 'seemed off' and 'maybe you should talk to me'. Something that you wanted so badly yesterday now seemed terrifying, the thought of trying to voice your doubts and fears scaring you, knowing that they probably sounded ridiculous to someone who had to work so hard to get to the place he was, and wanting to deal with it on your own, feeling like he felt obligated to care and help. You were also afraid of him catching onto your feelings, feelings that definitely would not be reciprocated. You could handle it.

You hadn't really talked to Namjoon in four or five days, you hadn't really talked to anyone in four or five days, simply going back and forth to class, coming home and doing your work, and just trying to fall into a routine that kept you distracted. His texts slowed down but they never completely stopped, stating that he 'may be busy, but he still wanted to talk to you' and that definitely sealed the deal on not telling him or bothering him, not wanting to get in the way when he was busy working and making something of himself, unlike you. You were proud of him and didn't want to hold him back.

It went on like that for another week, you being numb to your feelings and missing Namjoon, but knowing that he was busy doing what he loved and that you were a distraction, something that could ruin his image. You texted him back occasionally so he wouldn't think you were dead and he wouldn't worry too much, telling him that you were fine and that nothing was wrong and that you needed space. Things slowly became a new version of normal, and you shoved your feelings into a box and put them on a high shelf in the back of your mind.

You just finished the last class of the week and you were ready to go home and relax to the best of your abilities, maybe watch a movie and take a nap or go to bed early, the thought speeding up your walk to your apartment door. Before you were even down the hall, you saw a familiar head of brown hair pacing by your door and your heart sank into your stomach, slight panic taking its place. You tried to ignore the feeling of relief that you felt, pretend it didn't exist, at seeing him in person again after avoiding him for almost a week and a half. You considered turning around and high-tailing it to a nearby café, but seeing how worried and scared he looked, you felt guilty for even thinking about it. So you steeled your nerves and pushed your shoulders back and almost stalked down the hallway, a trick you learned when you were an unconfident and uncomfortable high school student: when you feel unconfident, fake confidence. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw you, and he looked like he was going to yank you into his arms, but at the last second he thought better of it.

"I'm sorry that it seems like I don't appreciate you, but I do." You furrowed your brows and cocked your head to the side, unlocking your door and pushing it open.

"I know you appreciate me. You have nothing to apologize for." You gave him a soft smile and made to walk into your apartment but he gripped onto your hand and gently pulled you back, intertwining both of your hands in his while looking down at you with a small smile and raised brows.

"Then I want to spend time with you. I miss my best friend." You bit your lip, the offer sounding tempting, but you felt that you should turn him down, say you didn't feel well so you didn't have to do it; no matter how tempting the proposition was. He felt your hesitance and his shoulders sagged along with his smile, and he dropped your hands and rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

"We don't have-"

"I want to. I miss you too." You pulled him into your apartment and shut the door, watching with a smile as he ran over to your couch and flopped down on it, hugging a pillow to his chest. You sighed, your heart fluttering at his actions, and you realized how much you really missed him.

"I'm calling in a pizza, you pick a movie."

"Come closer to me~. You're never this far away." The movie was playing in the background and you could tell that neither of you were really focusing on it, which wasn't really surprising. You followed his request and scooted closer to him and he rested his head on your pillowy thighs, smiling contentedly when you moved to start playing with his hair by reflex. He had a dopey look on his face, he wouldn't look away from you even if you were watching the movie, and you raised your brows at him in search of an explanation.

"You're really beautiful, you know that?" You looked up to the ceiling and snorted, intent on hiding your rosy cheeks, believing that this was a joke and you didn't want him to see how affected you were by it.

"Beautiful for a fat chick, right?" You clarified, and he clicked his tongue in a scolding tone while sitting up off your lap, turning his body to face you and you did the same.

"Why would you being fat put you on a different standard of beauty, Y/N?" You looked away and shrugged, not really having an answer other than the fact that you were told that your whole life. He slowly reached forward to tilt your head back towards him but you moved your head away from his palm and he settled for tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek with his knuckles.

"Why didn't you talk to me for a week and a half? Why won't you look at me?" You released a shaky sigh, trying to come up with a believable lie and failing, so you decided to settle for half-truths.

"You were busy." It was a horrible lie. He was always busy and that's never stopped you before. He gently grabbed your arms and flipped them palm up, looking at the scabs that you created on yourself from your anxiety a week ago. He swore under his breath and pulled your face to look at him, holding it there firmly. He didn't speak for a while, trying to figure out what to say and how to say it you assumed, and you were preparing yourself for the worst.

"You know that I'm never too busy to talk to you and help you through your problems, Y/N." You sighed and rolled your eyes, not believing him at all.

"I'm not going to put my stupid problems on your plate when you're already working so hard." You snapped, becoming uncomfortable because he was getting too close to the truth and he narrowed his eyes at you, studying your face and body language.

"You're not a burden or a waste of time, Y/N." Bingo.

"I... I never said I was-"

"You don't have to say anything. I noticed. I notice you." You were silent, terrified of the other possible things that he could have noticed. He continued.

"You have no idea of how hard it was for me to blatantly see you struggling and waiting for you to bring it up when I have the sneaking suspicion that you never will. But I kept waiting, believing that when you were really struggling and in pain that you would trust me enough to tell me, but I guess I was a little wrong." You're eyes widened at the notion of him thinking that you didn't trust him, the notion sounding absolutely ridiculous. Of course you trusted Namjoon, he's your best friend for a reason!

"The fact that you think I don't trust you is almost laughable. There's a reason why you're the only person I even considered bringing up my problems to. There's a reason why I let you touch my stomach and hips and trace your mindless doodles on them. There's a reason I let you hold me at night when you can't sleep, even though it makes me slightly uncomfortable to be so close to someone that means so much to me. I trust you." You raked your nails through your hair, moving to get off the couch and he grabbed your hips and hauled you onto his lap, you automatically struggling, not wanting to be held so close to him when you were already struggling with your feelings.

"Then why won't you trust me now? Why won't you let me hold you now?" He had a sort of teasing lilt to his voice, something that confused you but you ignored. He had you straddling his lap, something you two had always done, but it felt different this time. The way his thumbs were rubbing small circles into your wide hips and the way his eyes, with a hint of a smile in them, peered into your own felt different this time. The feelings were overwhelming, the look in his eyes was equally overwhelming and hard to read, everything was overwhelming. So overwhelming that you needed to get away from it or you would do something that you would regret, like kissing him like some cliché movie moment, so you opted for the truth, which you were sure would scare him away.

"Because I like it too much! I like you too much!" You whined, just wanting out of the situation, watching his eyes widen and waiting for the inevitable.

But he laughed.

You groaned and he tugged your head into his shoulder, letting you hide your blushing face in his hoodie while holding the back of your head, with his other hand caressing your side gently, tracing every bump and swell that he found.

"Now was that so bad?" He sounded smug and your stomach did an uneasy flip, fearing that he was teasing you, mocking you and that he had been waiting for this moment for so long, to make fun of you and embarrass you, something you knew he wouldn't do out of meanness, but it still scared you. He tried to tug your head out of his shoulder but you refused to be moved so he let you be and wrapped you in a hug, his arms sinking into your skin, something you knew he liked the feel of because of how much he told you about it, how often he called you warm and comfortable, like a fluffy and soft blanket.

"How long have you known?" You had turned your head so you wouldn't be muffled, but it still came out rather hesitant and shy and he shivered beneath you, because your breath accidentally puffed against his neck. He was silent for a few moments, thinking.

"The guys probably knew way before you did because they were watching us like hawks, believing that we would eventually get together, so they noticed the small changes in your personality easily." He paused, gathering his thoughts and you could imagine his face, eyebrows knotted together, lips pursed and eyes towards the ceiling in thought.

"And when Seokjin told me I had refused to believe him, calling him crazy because in my mind there was no possible way that you liked me back, not your dorky and too tall for his own good best friend. So I ignored it until I started to notice it too, the way you blushed when I touched your hips or played with your hair and you had the cutest little blushes and smiles when I treated you very gently, which gave me a huge confidence boost because I thought I was touching you wrong for the longest time." You felt your face heat up, remembering the first time you felt his wandering hands mapping out the features on your face or rubbing at your side while he was holding you when he couldn't sleep, remembering the way your heart leapt out of your chest in worry, afraid that he was going to find something that he didn't like. You pulled away from his neck and met his eyes, noticing the little blush adorning his face and the shy smile tugging at his lips with his hair falling into his eyes, causing you to reach forward and gently comb it out of the way with your fingers. You blushed and slowly removed your hand but before you fully moved it he snagged it in his hand and pressed a small kiss to the inside of your wrist and refusing to meet your gaze afterwards, but not letting go of your hand.

"You said 'back'."

"What do you mean?"

"You said 'liked me back'. So you like me too." It was a statement more than anything but he nodded anyway and it was his turn to nestle his head into the space right above your heart with burning cheeks, and you felt the way his breath fanned against your left breast and you shivered as well, the feeling pleasant and comforting for some reason. Once he calmed down, he moved his face and pulled you closer to his body on your lap, not leaving a whisper of space between you two and your height difference was evened out, leaving your eyes level. He looked like he was going to kiss you, slowly moving his head forward and his gaze flickering to your lips every now and then, bit at the last breath of distance between your lips he grew shy and blushy, mumbling apologies with a breathy laugh while pulling away.

"I'm sorry. I'm too shy to kiss your lips right now. Can I kiss you here instead?" He pointed at your heart and you rolled your eyes, giggling nonetheless and nodding. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the skin and you felt your skin spark at the intimate contact, wondering how this kiss was better for him, but enjoying it anyway. He let his lips linger, almost avoiding your gaze when he pulled away.

"Why are you being so cute and shy? I'm not the first girl you've kissed." You giggled, watching the tips of his ears grow a little red and he pouted, meeting your gaze.

"Yeah but it's the first time I've kissed you." He cringed at his words and swore under his breath, you groaned and lightly hit his shoulder.

"Way too cheesy, Joonie. Way too cheesy."

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