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hstyleshoney · 4 years

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flawed - h.s

AU she has a new roommate and he’s not the worst

Wordcount: 13K // slow-burn fluff with a small hint of angst and mutual-ish pining I suppose, strong language, alcohol use, sexual content

AN: This is my little College/Uni AU piece for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration writing fest! And I got carried away. I’ve had the start of this in my drafts for like two years and this challenge kind of just got me motivated to finish it. I’m really happy with some parts of it and some I’m not so sure about...I hate endings... BUT I had really fun writing it and that is all that matters and hopefully someone will enjoy it. I’m just happy I managed to finish it after such a long time. I’d also really really appreciate some feedback on it so please share your thoughts! I don’t have too much experience writing like this so be nice pls haha. ENJOY! <3

“Harry, you left your dirty dishes by the sink... AGAIN! Dunno how many times I have to remind you to clean up after yourself Put it away. Thx. :)”

Y/N took a deep breath to calm herself down and re-read the pink post-it note infront of her. He was going to be the death of her. He really was. Harry was in every other way the perfect roommate, well perfect was perhaps a bit excessive but he wasn’t the worst, except for the fact that he never took care of his stupid dirty dishes. It drove her mad. It took all her willpower to not smash his stupid little kermit the frog teacup into tiny little pieces whenever she saw it.

And yes, maybe it was irrational of her to get so worked up over a few dirty cups when everything else was going so well. But Y/N liked it when things were in order.

In the past two months that she had lived with Harry she had lost count of how many times she had asked him to wash up his used pans, plates and cups. The first time it happened she didn’t really mind. The second time -- also fine. But the third? That was when she started to get a little bit bothered. Because not only was it his dirty dishes from the same day. No. The plate and cup from the day before were still there on the counter as well. That was the first time she asked him to clean up after himself.

It was still fine though.

Y/N just told herself it was because Harry had previously lived in a student accommodation with a bunch of unruly boys and wasn’t used to picking up after himself. It was fine. He’d soon get it.

Only, he didn’t seem to get it.

Because weeks later she still had to remind him to wash up after he was done in the kitchen. It was like what she said to him went in one ear and out the other. It took her another week before she started suspecting he was leaving it out on purpose to irritate her, which well, it worked. It only annoyed her further.

The amount of tea that boy drank was truly worrying. She had been told she drank a lot of tea, but she seemed to have met her match in Harry. At least judging by all the cups he left around the flat. They were everywhere. Literally. She had even found one under the bathroom sink just a couple days ago and she didn’t even bother asking him how it got there. She had simply just left him a post-it note asking him to put it away.

Because she was certainly not going to go around and pick up after him. He was a grown boy and therefore capable of cleaning up after himself. She wasn’t his mother.

It was basic housekeeping.

She ripped the little pink post-it note off the pad and stuck it up on Harry’s bedroom door so he couldn’t possibly miss it. She stared at it for another minute, pleased with herself, before getting her backpack and left to go to her lecture. It was her own way of telling him off; leaving post-it notes for him. A more passive-aggressive approach had always been her preferred strategy, it made her feel slightly less annoying, and anytime she had left him a note in the morning the dirty dishes had magically disappeared when she came home later.

So there was no reason for her to stop leaving them for him.

Apart from that Harry really was the best roommate she could’ve asked for. The best one in the short amount of time she had had to find a new one anyways. Lexi, her very good friend from home and roommate before Harry, had decided to drop out of uni a week before courses were due to start again after summer; leaving her alone with a flat she couldn’t afford on her own. Y/N couldn’t be mad at her though because she knew how unhappy Lexi was in Manchester. She wasn’t enjoying her course and she missed her family. Y/N couldn’t force Lexi to stay just because she didn’t want to find a new roommate. She wasn’t that selfish.

It just wasn’t ideal. Everyone she knew already had a place to live and she was feeling pretty defeated about the whole thing. She liked her flat and didn’t want to give it up. Her parents offered to help her pay rent until she could find someone to live with again but she didn’t want to take her parents money. It didn’t feel right. So when her friend Lucy mentioned that her boyfriend Nate had a friend who needed a place to live she offered the mysterious man Lexi’s old room without a second thought.

Then Harry showed up outside her door two days later with a large suitcase and a couple of moving boxes.

They didn’t really talk all that much their first week of living together. He mostly kept to himself, trying to get settled in and get used to being back at uni after a long summer. All she knew about him at that point was that he was the same age as her and that he was studying music. Something she probably would’ve figured out sooner or later on her own, because every evening she could hear him play his guitar from inside his bedroom. She couldn’t complain though. It was quite soothing actually, and she wanted to tell him that.

But she also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable knowing she laid awake listening to him play and then stop because he didn’t want her to eavesdrop.

So Y/N never said anything.

Their second week of living together was when she picked up on his annoying habit of leaving the kitchen a mess. It was also that week he offered to make her a cup of tea for the first time and she would never admit it outloud but it was probably the best cup of tea she had ever had.

But since he left his own cups all around the flat she also refused to tell him that.

By the third week they started having dinner together and asked each other about their days. They were slowly getting to know one another and Y/N realised for the first time that she did in fact enjoy Harry’s company. That Sunday they spent the entire evening binge watching the first season of a scandinavian crime drama on netflix and shared a tub of ice cream.

Then they were suddenly in the same group of friends.

Because with Lexi gone Y/N started hanging out with Lucy more and Lucy was dating Nate and Harry was always hanging out with Nate. Which all just led to Tara, Declan and Connor always being around as well. Their flat had, since Harry moved in, turned into the hotspot for the gang to hang out at. She didn’t mind much, because she liked them and she had never really been a part of a group like them before. It was nice. Lexi moving had in a weird way been a blessing in disguise.

So there really wasn’t anything else to complain about when it came to Harry as a roommate.

Well, maybe one more thing.

And she usually met that reason every Sunday morning in their kitchen after a night out.

That Sunday however took a different turn than what she had gotten used to.

“You told me you didn’t have a girlfriend!”

“Harry,“ Y/N said slowly and narrowed her eyes at him. The girl next to them, whose hair was dyed a rich red color, was only clad in one of Harry’s old band t-shirts and stared at the two of them with frantic eyes.

“Y/N, babe, I’m so sorry,” Harry said and stared at Y/N pleadingly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on!?” The red-haired girl demanded and crossed her arms over her chest and Y/N could’ve sworn she did a little stomp. “You told me last night that you were single!”

“Yes Harry, I’d love an explanation,” Y/N said and mimicked the redhead by crossing her arms over her chest. She probably would’ve laughed if the situation had been any different because the stranger in the kitchen was glaring at Harry with such a hatred in her eyes and Y/N had never seen a girl look at him that way before.

And it was still funny, but it would’ve been funnier if she wasn’t a part of it. Harry on the other hand only ignored the angry girl and kept the lie going, focusing on his roommate.

“Love, I’m so fucking sorry. It didn’t mean anything! I swear, I was drunk and-”

“Ugh, oh my god,” the redhead cried out, interrupting him. She was fuming and her face was as red as her hair. Before Y/N had the chance to say anything else, to resolve the situation, the redhead stepped forward and slapped Harry across the face. “You’re such a fucking asshole!”

Then she turned around and Y/N’s first instinct was to take a step back because that was how intimidating she looked with her red wild hair and red cheeks. But Y/N, very unexpectedly, found herself being embraced in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so sorry! I swear I had no idea. He told me he didn’t have a girlfriend. You deserve so much better! Leave him.”

And just like that the girl was gone, marching back to Harry’s room to get changed into her own clothes again, and left the two of them alone in the kitchen. Y/N at loss for words and Harry rubbing the side of his face.

It didn’t take very long before the sound of the front door being slammed shut echoed through the flat and made the walls around them shake.

“You’re disgusting,” Y/N muttered then and walked past him to put the kettle on. She had a headache from all the wine she had consumed the previous night and whatever it was that had just happened hadn’t exactly helped her feel any better. She had only wanted a nice cup of tea, and maybe some toast. She had definitely not been prepared, nor expected, to be part of a terrible made-up triangle drama. Not this early.

“Aw, c’mon,” Harry laughed and finally let his face break out into a grin. “I’ve tried to get her to go home all morning but she wouldn’t take any hints. I had no choice.”

Y/N turned her head to glare at him and pointed a warning finger in his direction

“If you bring a girl back you get rid of her yourself. I want no part in your disgusting shenanigans,” she told him. “You deserved that slap.”

“I didn’t even say anything to her,” Harry said and hopped up to take a seat on the counter. “She just assumed.”

“Why would she even assume that?” Y/N asked and eyed him suspiciously “If I was your girlfriend I wouldn’t randomly appear in the kitchen the next morning in my pyjamas. You must’ve told her something.”

“I didn’t,” Harry denied and put his hands up, still grinning. She rolled her eyes. “I swear! She just assumed.”

“Yeah well, you shouldn’t have let her,” she told him and took out two slices of bread to put in the toaster. “Besides, do you have to bring a girl back every weekend?”

“Do you have to go on like five dates a week?”

“I don’t,” she glared at him again. Harry raised his eyebrows at her knowingly and she looked away from him as the next few words left her lips. “It was only three this week.”

“Oh right,” Harry laughed. “Excuse me.”

“Shut up.”

“At least I’m getting something good out of it,” he continued to laugh. “I still don’t understand why you have to go on so many dates all the time. What do you get out of it?”

“I wanna find love,” she shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“No, not at all,” Harry told her. “But dating douchebags ain’t gonna bring you love.”

“Yeah because sleeping with someone new every weekend is so much better,” she replied sarcastically and watched as Harry slid down from the counter when the kettle made a small noise to let them know it was ready.

“Like I said,” he started with a smirk and took down two tea cups from the cupboard. “At least I get something good out of it. You should try.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t say anything else as her toast popped up from the toaster. Her dating life was a running joke among her friends and she had learned to ignore the comments they made. She wanted to find love, so she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it. Some may say she was a bit desperate, and maybe she was, but it wasn’t her fault every guy she met was wrong for her. They were all either too clingy or too uncommitted.

Or maybe she was just a bit too picky.

Either way, she did go on a lot of dates when her schedule allowed her to. She wanted what everyone else around her seemed to have. Her parents acted more in love with each other every time she saw them, even after 30 years of marriage. One of her sisters had just gotten engaged to her long-term boyfriend and her oldest sister had been married for three years already and was expecting her second child. Her younger cousin got married that summer. Any time Y/N traveled back home all her relatives asked her when she was going to find herself a nice young man. It was exhausting. Y/N was stressed. Pressured. So she dated a lot. There was nothing wrong with that, yet people liked to mock her for it, especially Harry since he was the one who she came back home to after a bad date.

He’d usually burst into her room after a date, wanting all the details only so he could laugh about everything that had gone wrong. But then he also always made her a cup of tea and got her some biscuits.

He wasn’t the worst.

“Hey,” Harry said and held out the tea he had made for her. “You wanna watch an episode of The Bridge?”

Y/N stared at him for a second and for the first time ever her heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that Harry was unbelievably attractive, the kind of attractiveness that terrified you before you got to know him. If he hadn’t showed up outside her door she never would’ve had the guts to talk to him. After getting to know him though he was just Harry; her roommate.

But there was something about him right there and then, dressed casually in sweats and a plain t-shirt as he handed her a cup of tea in their kitchen, that just got to her. She quickly snapped herself out of her thoughts to stop her mind from wandering too far and took the tea from him. Must be the hangover.

“Sure, but only one episode,” she replied and picked up her plate of toast as well. “I have to read some shit for my seminar tomorrow and I can’t keep procrastinating.”

They ended up watching more than just one episode.

And Y/N never got around to reading the chapter she needed to read. She only skimmed through it on her way to her seminar, which is why she made a fool out of herself when the lecturer pointed straight at her and asked her to share her thoughts. She wanted to disappear.

And her day didn’t get any better when she stepped in dog shit on her way home.

And it certainly didn’t get any better when she accidentally knocked over her cup of tea and spilled it all over the rug. So instead of getting to lie on the couch and feel sorry for herself, like she had planned, she had to try and save the white rug from getting a stain. It wasn’t a great day.

It was also at that moment Harry came back home; when she was sitting on the floor, scrubbing the rug furiously and muttering profanities under her breath.

“You know,” Harry began to make his presence known. “There’s something about what you're doing right now that’s really turning me on.”

Y/N stopped her scrubbing and looked up at him, not impressed by his joke or by the stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh fuck off,” she swore and simply raised her hand and her middle finger at him. “Or make yourself useful and get some baking soda or something.”

“Bad day?” he asked while putting his guitar case down. She only glared at him.

“What do you think?”

“I’ll just get the baking soda.”

“Good choice.”

They cleaned the rug together and after a good half an hour of scrubbing and googling the best tricks to remove tea stains they managed to save it from getting ruined. Y/N slumped down on the couch again, exhausted and defeated, and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down.

What a shit day.

Harry made her a new cup and put away everything they had used to get rid of the spilled one before joining her on the small couch.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked and squeezed his brows together, uncertain how to approach her.

“I just had a shit day,” she sighed deeply. “Completely fucked up my seminar.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Ha!” Y/N scoffed. “No, I did. But it was my own fault though, so I can't really cry about it.”

“Well,” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Can I do anything to make you feel better? We could get some pizza and watch a movie or something?”

“I can’t,” she grumbled. “I have an assignment I have to finish by Wednesday and considering how shit I did today I have to focus. I can’t fuck this up too.”

“You have to eat something though.”

“Yeah, I will. I’ll just heat up some of that leftover pasta later or something,” she assured him and maybe if she hadn’t been so frustrated with herself she wouldn’t have confused the way her heart was racing inside her chest with stress; when in reality it was beating extra for the green eyed boy next to her.

Y/N stayed in her room for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, reading and typing away. She wouldn’t say it was going well, but she didn't want to throw her computer out the window and she always appreciated those rare moments.

She could also hear Harry roaming around in the rest of the flat and later on the low strum of his guitar. She smiled to herself when she heard it and didn’t even realise she was humming along to the melody he was playing until he stopped.

And it wasn’t until her stomach growled loudly that she remembered she hadn’t actually had any dinner yet. She made sure to save her work, hitting ‘save’ an extra time because you could never save a document too many times, before closing her laptop and standing up. Her muscles ached from how long she had been in the same position and she winced a little as she stretched them out.

Then her stomach rumbled and she was once again reminded of how hungry she was. It was nearing 11 pm and she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was not good, and she kind of regretted not accepting Harry’s offer about getting pizza before.

But when she made it into the kitchen there was a pink post-it note on the fridge, only this time she wasn’t the one who put it there.

I got some pizza earlier, saved you a few slices in case you want some instead of that old pasta xx H :)

A warm feeling spread through her body as she read his little note, and she couldn’t help but notice that Harry had a surprisingly neat handwriting. It was cute. Both the handwriting and the message. It put a smile on her face.

While the pizza was being reheated she decided to go find Harry and thank him for the nice gesture. She was just about to knock on his door when she noticed that the TV was still on and she spotted him on the couch.

Asleep.

And it was probably cuter than both his handwriting and the message combined.

His whole body took up the small couch; his legs dangled over the armrest and he had his arms crossed over his chest to make himself smaller. There was a slight frown on his face, presumably from the dream he was having, but it was endearing in a way to still see him so relaxed. He had changed out of the blue jeans he had worn last time she saw him and had on his black shorts and the knitted jumper he always just wore around the flat. He looked comfortable. Homely.

A part of her wanted to run back to her room and get her phone so she could snap a picture of him before he woke up.

But an even bigger part of her stopped her from doing so because it felt inappropriate to take a picture of him sleeping. She wasn’t so sure Harry would appreciate her taking pictures of him without him knowing either. So she refrained.

Then, almost like he could feel her watching him sleep like a total creep, he slowly blinked his eyes open, and honestly... it was probably the cutest thing yet. She blushed as he caught her staring.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice low and rough, and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. “What time is it?”

“Mm it’s about 11.”

“Shit, didn’t realise I fell asleep,” he grumbled and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Did you finish your assignment?”

“Almost,” she told him and smiled softly. “Thanks for the pizza.”

“No worries,” he said and matched her smile.

“Also, I’m sorry for being so cranky before. I was just a bit stressed.”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “We’ve all been there.”

Y/N ended up joining him on the couch for a bit after the pizza was done. They didn’t talk much while she ate and Harry flicked through the channels on the TV, before he eventually decided on an old romcom.

When Harry had first shown up outside the flat she had been nervous about living with him. She had only ever lived with girls before, but it had been easier to get along with him than she had first expected. Not that she had heard anything bad about him; Lucy had nothing but nice things to say when she first told her about Nate’s friend who needed a place to live.

She had just assumed it was going to be harder to live with a boy compared to a girl. But Harry made it easy, aside from the dirty dishes and the unknown women in her kitchen Sunday mornings of course, and he was slowly becoming one of her closest friends. While it was terrifying it also felt like the most natural thing. Like he was meant to be in her life.

Which is why she felt so stupid for what happened next.

“They make love seem so easy in these romcoms,” Y/N complained with a huff. “Why don’t I have a gorgeous guy pining after me? I just want someone to have a secret crush on me and then make a big grand gesture. Is that too much to ask?”

“How do you know you don’t?” Harry questioned and she snorted.

“I highly doubt it. Who would that be?”

Harry shrugged.

“Who knows,” he said. “It’s kinda the point of having someone secretly crushing on you, innit?”

“Oh whatever,” she grumbled and Harry laughed. “You have no say in this. I see the way girls stare at you whenever we go out. You probably have a handful of secret admirers. ”

“Are you forgetting the fact that you go on more dates than the rest of us combined?” Harry pointed out and raised his brows at her. “You probably have more admirers than anyone else I know.”

“Not true.”

“So true,” Harry insisted. “You need to stop trying so hard and maybe just let love find you instead.”

“That’s probably the most cliche thing someone has ever told me,” she said and rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to do then? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs and wait for someone to come knocking on our door and say they love me?”

“No, not at all,” Harry frowned. “I just think that maybe you need to open your eyes and take a step back. Lower your expectations and don’t be so picky. You’re not going to find Prince charming. No one is flawless.”

“You know what? It’s too late to be having this conversation,” she told him and stood up. There was something about what he just said that made her heart sink a little inside her chest. “I’m going to bed.”

“Hey, you okay?” Harry said and caught her wrist to stop her from leaving. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s okay,” she said and swallowed thickly. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” His hand was hot on her skin and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his long fingers and how he traced his thumb across her wrist in small circles.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

He really didn’t. Y/N wasn’t sure why she had suddenly gotten so upset; why she took what he said to heart. It made her feel like a brat almost. She was used to people making fun of her dating life but she didn’t like this.

She didn’t want people to think she was shallow or impossible to please. Especially not Harry.

Because that wasn’t the case. There were plenty of good guys out there and she was far from perfect herself. She had a lot of flaws. Y/N had just never clicked with anyone in the way she wanted to and she wasn’t going to get into a relationship with someone she didn’t feel she connected with one hundred percent.

“Okay,” Harry said with a heavy sigh and let go of her wrist. “Goodnight then.”

“Night.”

Harry still had a frown on his face as he watched her take her plate back into the kitchen and Y/N could feel her pulse racing as she felt his eyes on her. It was awkward and she was embarrassed for how she had just handled everything. It wasn’t even a big deal. He hadn’t said anything she hadn’t thought of herself before. Harry was just giving her advice.

So why did she feel so upset?

It was the first time she had ever gotten even the tiniest bit self-conscious about the amount of dates she went on, and as she crawled into bed she couldn’t help but wonder if she felt like this because it was Harry.

It was also the first time she realised she cared a lot about what he thought of her.

She wanted Harry to like her.

Y/N got her period a day later and just like that everything she had felt on Monday made so much sense. Of course. Luckily everything was completely fine between her and Harry the morning after she left him on the couch and they even baked some brownies Tuesday evening because Y/N was craving chocolate, which also made sense when she woke up with stains in her underwear and cramps in her lower region on Wednesday.

Despite that though she had quite a good day. She managed to finish her assignment in time and she didn’t hate it; she was maybe even a little bit pleased with it. She bought herself a new pair of sneakers that were on sale and an eyeshadow palette she had been wanting for a while. Her and Harry got chinese food for dinner before meeting the rest of the gang down at the pub.

Wednesdays meant quiz night and Y/N teamed up with Tara and together they managed to win first prize which gave them £50 to spend at the bar.

Y/N blamed the alcohol for everything that happened after that.

She tripped on her way over to the toilets. She accidentally managed to somehow elbow Connor in the face. She also spilled half a pint of beer all over herself, leaving a huge wet stain on her trousers so it looked like she pissed herself.

But she was still in good spirits.

Until she spotted Harry at the bar with a tall gorgeous girl. Their faces were close and even from the booth she was sitting in she could see his dimples. It left a sour taste in her mouth watching the pair talk and it annoyed her how easily Harry once again had a girl swooning over him. Why was he even off flirting with some random girl when they were all supposed to be there together? And why was he so good at it? And why did he look so good doing it?

Y/N rolled her eyes when the girl giggled and reached out to touch his bicep. Disgusting.

“Hello?” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of Y/N’s face. “You still with us?”

“What?” She tore her eyes away from the scene that was taking place at the bar and turned her attention back to her two friends. “Yeah, of course.” She faked a laugh and took a long sip from her beer. Lucy and Tara shared a look, but they didn’t say anything else about it which she was thankful for.

Mostly because she had no idea how to explain any of it. She glanced over at Harry and the girl again and tried to understand why her chest suddenly felt so tight. It must be the alcohol.

And oh, right, of course, she had her period.

It was her hormones; the only logical explanation.

Satisfied with the answer to her own confusion she threw herself back into the conversation around the table, ignoring the fact that she could still see Harry and the girl in the corner of her eye.

Then Declan showed up at their table with a round of vodka shots for everyone because he knew the bartender and got them for free.

Who was she to say no to free shots?

But she really should’ve.

The strong liquid didn’t sit right with her and instead of giving her a bigger buzz her head felt heavy and her ears were ringing. She also felt a little bit sick; the chinese food she had had with Harry slowly rising in the back of her throat. Taking shots had never really ended well for her but drunk Y/N still always seemed to think it was a fantastic idea.

It was a good thing she didn’t have a lecture or anything the next day, because her hangover was not going to be pretty.

And Y/N didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone before she unexpectedly jumped out of her seat, got her coat and stumbled outside. She needed fresh air and she couldn’t wait.

The second she stepped outside into the cold autumn night she instantly felt better. The nausea from the stuffy pub atmosphere disappeared and she sat down on the curb next to the road and took a few deep breaths.

“Hey there Quiz-Queen, you alright?”

Harry.

She glanced up at him and even though he had called her by the nickname she had jokingly given herself after winning first-prize he was looking down at her with concerned eyes. Her purse hung from his shoulder, she hadn’t even realised she had left it behind, and he had his own long and vibrant plaid coat wrapped around himself; protecting him from the cold.

“Yeah,” she said and took another deep breath. “I just needed some air.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed, relieved she was okay. “Maybe next time let the rest of us know where you’re going and don’t just get up and leave.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all,” Harry assured and shook his head. “Just want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t think that £50 bar tab was the best thing for a lightweight like you.”

“Oiii,” she pouted. “That’s mean. You’re just jealous you didn’t win. How many right answers did you guys get again? 6 out of 20?”

“It’s not about winning, it’s about having fun,” Harry said with a smug smile and a twinkle in his eyes that he only ever got when he thought he was being clever. “And I had fun.”

“Oh give it a rest,” she scoffed but there was still a smile on her face. “You love to win, don’t stand there and pretend to be a good loser when I know how competitive you can get.”

Harry laughed and she felt butterflies come alive inside her stomach as she watched his dimples appear. This time for her and not for some stupid girl at the bar.

“C’mon Silly-girl, let’s get you home,” he said, ignoring her comment about him being a sore loser, and offered his hand to help her up. His fingers were strong around hers and her skin was tingling as she watched her own hand disappear in his.

Once back up on her feet she had to hold onto Harry for a second to stop her head from spinning so much. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol anymore or her hormones... or if it was merely just because of Harry.

It was just easier to blame the alcohol or her period, so that’s what she did.

Harry had an arm around her to support her swaying body as they made their way over to the bus stop, holding her close to him. He smelled like beer and the shampoo she always secretly sniffed when she took a shower. It was something she would never admit out loud, or sober, but she loved the smell of it.

Sometimes she had considered using it on her own hair, it was just so fresh and relaxing, so Harry, but it was also one of those things she wasn’t so sure he would appreciate her doing.

“We should’ve stopped to get some food,” she muttered and slumped back against her seat on the bus. “I’m starving and I’m craving something salty.”

“I can make us something when we get home,” Harry offered.

“Really?” Y/N perked up. ”Could you?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit hungry as well.”

“Oh my gosh, have I ever told you you’re the best roommate?”

“Pretty sure you haven’t,” Harry laughed. "I do, however, have a lot of post-it notes that one could argue suggest the opposite."

“I saw you talking to a girl earlier. She was very pretty.” It slipped out before Y/N had the chance to think twice about it. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me now and didn’t get to go home with her.”

Harry didn’t laugh at that but he still had the same twinkle in his eyes as before and a fond smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said and suddenly his hand was on her knee and he gave it a gentle squeeze; causing her hormones to act up again so her heart skipped a beat. “You’re not the worst person to be stuck with.”

As expected her hangover wasn’t pretty the next day.

She woke up with a raging headache and an upset stomach. After Harry had made them both some food she had been too tired to go wash her make-up off so the girl staring back at her in the bathroom mirror had black mascara smudges all around her eyes and golden glitter eyeshadow smeared across her bloated face. It was a tragedy. She was a tragedy.

However, the thing that made her hangover feel even worse was when she walked into the kitchen and saw the all dirty pans and plates from her and Harry’s late night meal. Pangs of guilt instantly swept through her. Harry was already gone by the time she woke up. He had an early seminar, which she knew he did because he had told her before they met up with the others at the pub, and she felt terrible that she had kept him up half the night only to make her food. He couldn’t have gotten more than two hours of sleep and it filled her up with guilt.

So much guilt she didn’t leave him a post-it note telling him the kitchen was a mess, because that would’ve just been super fucking rude since it was her fault he was even in the kitchen cocking at 3 am in the first place. Instead she washed up and decided to go out and get his favorite snacks as a thank you, and also because she was craving more chocolate and a fizzy drink.

Being hungover while having your period was really not the best combination.

Y/N hid her tousled hair under a beanie and put on a quick layer of foundation in an attempt to cover up her blotchy skin. It didn’t really help her feel much better about her appearance so she decided to put on a scarf as well to disguise herself as much as possible, just in case she’d run into someone she knew on her way to the store. She didn’t want to be recognised. Not today.

But of course Y/N wasn’t that lucky.

She ran into three people from her course, who all stopped her and chit-chatted to her about their seminars and latest assignment, all while she stood there with a basket full of various brands of crisps, drinks and candy feeling and looking like an absolute troll.

And that wasn’t even the worst.

No.

Because naturally it was also the day she bumped into someone, quite literally, in the stairs on her way back up to the flat.

Y/N yelped and accidentally dropped her bag of snacks as she tried to find her balance. A pair of hands caught her by the shoulders before she fell backwards and when she looked up to see who she had crashed into her whole face turned red.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she apologized with wide eyes, her heart beating fast inside her chest.

“No worries,” the man in front of her said and removed his hands from her shoulders, but she kind of wished he hadn’t because his voice was so deep and smoky her knees weakened as he spoke.

Not to mention he had the most stunning pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were a deep, earthy brown color with perfectly long eyelashes she could only ever dream of. He was utterly breathtaking with his long dark hair, scruffy stubble and nose piercing, that she usually didn’t really like on boys but the stranger in front of her made it work. Oh how he made it work.

And as he leaned down to pick up her bag for her she caught a whiff of his fragrance and her knees were seconds away from giving up all together.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out as he handed her the bag full of snacks and prayed he hadn’t seen what was in it. She looked pathetic enough as it was and she racked her brain for something else to say but there was nothing. Y/N was left completely gobsmacked by the breathtaking man she had just crashed into. Her cheeks only getting hotter and hotter for every second she stood there like a total idiot just staring at him in awe. “I’m Y/N.”

Y/N wanted nothing more than to just sink through the floor in embarrassment. The stranger, thankfully, reached out and shook her extended hand with an amused smile on his lips.

“Luke.”

Luke let his eyes wander up and down her body, taking in her attire, and she had never felt so unattractive as she did in that moment. Why didn’t she at least take a shower before going out? Fuck.

“Right,” she nodded and reached up to adjust her beanie a little, as if it was going to make her look any better. “So eh... do you live here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

What was she doing?

“I do,” Luke confirmed. “I moved in a couple days ago.”

“Awesome.”

Awesome? Fucking idiot.

She was definitely losing her mind. While she did go on a lot of dates she had not been blessed with the ability to make small talk.

“I’m guessing you live here as well?” Luke asked and ran a hand through his hair to push back a couple of strands from his face. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.

“Yeah,” Y/N confirmed, her mouth dry, and she licked her lips nervously. “I’m on the top floor... aaand I should really get going. My roommate is waiting for me.”

“Of course.”

“It was nice to meet you though. Welcome to the building.” Her heart was still racing. “Again, I’m sorry for crashing into you.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. It was good to meet you too,” Luke told her and gave her a small wink. “See you around.”

And Y/N didn’t know how it happened but a strange cackle escaped her lips as he winked at her and she ran off before she could witness his reaction to it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself all the way up to her and Harry’s flat.

Once she got inside she fell back against the door and tried to catch her breath, from both practically running up five flights of stairs and the encounter she had just had with probably the hottest man alive.

She really was pathetic.

After she got herself together she shrugged off her coat and pulled off her stupid beanie, cursing herself yet again for not taking a shower before going to the store. She could at least have put on a cute outfit. But no. She went out looking like a slob.

And as she sauntered into the flat she realised that Harry was home again, and with him were Nate, Lucy and Connor as well.

“Well if it isn’t the Quiz-Queen herself,” Nate teased when he saw her and bowed his head mockingly from where he was sitting on the couch. “Glad to see that you’re still alive after last night.”

“We have a new neighbour,” Y/N informed them, ignoring Nate and his teasing comments, because the new neighbour was the only thing on her mind. “I crashed into him on my way up. Literally. I made a complete fool out of myself.”

“Nothing new then,” Connor joked.

“Ha-ha,” Y/N said dryly. “For real though, he was the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He was unreal.”

“Really?” It got Lucy’s attention and she perked up from where she was sitting on the couch with Nate. “What did he look like?”

“Like a damn model right off the runway,” Y/N groaned and collapsed in one of the armchairs. “I’m telling you, he was unreal. Eyelashes that went on forever. Tall. Cheekbones that could cut glass and his hair was soooooo shiny. He didn’t have a single flaw. He even made a nose piercing look good and you know how I feel about those.”

“Aw, I wanna see him too,” Lucy pouted. “Did you get his name?”

“Luke.”

“So our serial dater has another date then I’m assuming,” Connor sniggered.

“I wish,” Y/N replied with a sigh. “I could hardly get a word out. I just stood there and stared at him like a creep.”

“You could always go over and ask to borrow a cup of sugar,” Nate suggested and wiggled his eyebrows. “And then just suck him off to return the favor.”

“You’re an idiot,” Y/N said and raised her middle finger towards him. It also earned him a slap on the arm from Lucy as she scolded her boyfriend. Connor laughed and made a comment about how it would be the perfect porn scene.

And it was also in that moment Y/N realised Harry hadn’t said anything since she had joined them. She glanced over at him where he sat in the armchair across from her and frowned. He looked tired and it caused the guilt in her to rise up again. In addition to that it troubled her that he wasn’t saying anything about the new neighbour or joining in on the jokes. He just sat in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the TV and the random show that was airing. “Harry?”

“What?”

There was something about how he spoke and how he turned to look at her that made her feel even worse. His voice was taut and low. His eyes burned right through her. It was far from the Harry she was used to. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but she also didn’t want to do so in front of the others if they hadn’t noticed it themselves.

“Um, I got some snacks if you want some,” Y/N said instead. She wasn’t sure if the others had noticed at all but she didn’t like it. Maybe he was angry with her for making him stay up so late? What if it had made him late for his seminar?

“Thank you,” he replied half-heartedly and turned his attention back to the TV without another word. Confusion filled the room and she met Lucy’s baffled expression for a split second. Okay they had noticed. Fuck. Y/N looked at Harry again and there was so much she wanted to ask him but at the same time she was at a loss for words. It wasn’t like him to be so tense. Not one bit.

She didn’t like it.

On Saturday they were all, once again, out getting drunk. After her hangover on Thursday Y/N had told herself she wasn’t going to drink again that week, but Harry was still being acting weird around her so she was easily persuaded.

Because she needed a drink.

Harry hadn’t really done anything, which was also part of the problem. She hadn’t seen him all Friday or Saturday, not until he turned up for pre-drinks at Connor’s flat. And once he was there he didn’t even look at her or talk to her. It bothered her. A lot. She hadn’t had the chance to ask him what was wrong and nothing was making sense. She tried to remember if she had said something inappropriate to him on Wednesday, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out why he was being off with her.

Which is why, after a couple of drinks, she took the first chance she got to confront him about it.

She spotted him alone at one of the tables inside the club they were at and marched right up, ignoring the people she accidentally bumped into on her way, and plopped herself down on the leather sofa next to him. The beer she was carrying spilled over in her hand as she did but she paid no attention to it and Harry looked at her with questioning eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Y/N wasted no time. The music was loud around them and she had to lean into him to make sure he heard her, his curls tickled her upper lip from how close she was. Harry only shrugged.

“Nothing is going on.”

“Oh really? Could’ve fooled me,” she said, almost shouting because of the music, and rolled her eyes. “You’re acting strange.”

“Nothing is going on,” Harry repeated and pursed his lips, looking away from her. Y/N tilted her head forward, to force him to look at her again, and waved her hand in front of his face.

“Look at me then,” she cried out in frustration. “Stop ignoring me and tell me what’s going on!”

It wasn’t the best spot for them to be having a conversation. A couple of people from the tables around them looked over curiously and the dim lights and loud music of club made it harder than what she would’ve liked. She had originally planned to talk to him that morning but he had gone out before she even woke up and it was the last sign she needed to know that he was avoiding her. So talking to him at a busy club felt like the only option.

She flinched back as Harry unexpectedly turned to face her, almost knocking his head into hers.

”You know for wanting to find love so badly you’re really fucking blind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N frowned. Harry scoffed.

“You’re so oblivious,” he began. “If you just stopped being so desperate and so obsessed with finding the perfect guy for one damn second then maybe you’d-” Harry stopped himself and pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked down at the beer in his hands.

“Then what Harry?” she demanded, and didn’t even bother to try calm the anger that was stirring inside her. Harry ignoring her made her feel worse than she ever could’ve imagined. Nothing could’ve prepared her for it. She hated it. “I wouldn’t be so unlovable?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t,” Harry warned. “You know I would never say that. Don’t be daft.”

“Do I?” she kept challenging him. The alcohol in her bloodstream gave her enough courage to not back down. Even if the loud music made it harder to hear what the other one was saying there was no way she was going to drop it. She needed to know what was going on. She couldn’t go another day with Harry ignoring her; she was too used to having him around for him to just cut her off.

“Yes, you do,” he spat.

“But you think I’m desperate?” she spat back and Y/N wasn’t sure why she was picking a fight with him in the middle of a full packed club, but she was.

Because at least he was talking to her.

“Yeah I do,” Harry admitted and licked his lips. She struggled to breathe a little after that. Her chest felt too tight. “Why are you so set on having the perfect relationship? No couple is perfect.”

“Lucy and Nate are,” she stated, not wanting her facade to falter in front of him. Her throat was dry but her eyes were burning with wet tears because she hated this. She hated it so much.

“No, they’re not,” Harry sneered loudly. “Both of them are far from fucking perfect. Nate is a menace and Lucy is a nutter.”

“Harry, don’t be a dick.”

“What? So just because they’re my friends I’m only allowed see the good in them? I still love both of them and they still love each other even if they’re not perfect,” he insisted. “You know they end up arguing like every night we go out, right? Over something stupid Nate said or some insane shit Lucy did. Do you know how many times Lucy has asked me for advice when it comes to Nate? They’re not perfect.”

“So I’m desperate because I want to find someone who is perfect for me?”

“What if you already have?”

“What?”

The music was still loud around them but suddenly the only thing she could hear was her own beating heart.

And suddenly she became aware of just how close the two of them actually were. Harry’s nose brushed against hers as his mouth carefully, barely, grazed her lips. His breath was hot on her face and oh wow, had his eyelashes always been that long?

Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but the way he was looking at her made her unable to move any part of her body. She was frozen; waiting for him to make the next move because she was far too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything herself. He was so close. Too close -- but at the same time not close enough. She wondered if he could hear her heart as well.

“Oi, oi!”

Out of the blue Declan flopped down next to her on the sofa and just like that she was brought back into reality and away from Harry’s green eyes. Declan had two pints of beer with him and grinned at the two of them; clueless to what he had just interrupted. He didn’t come alone though, soon the rest of the gang had gathered around the small table. All so clueless.

Y/N watched as Harry drank what was left of his beer and glared at Declan and the rest while she tried to stop her head from spinning so much. What had just happened?

They were all talking around her but their voices got lost in the loud music and her own thoughts.

‘What if you already have?’ what was that even supposed to mean?

She wanted to turn and look at Harry again but she was too scared of what he might do or say and too scared that everyone else was going to notice something was wrong and ask them about it. Instead she just kept her eyes down to where her thigh was pressing into Harry’s after Declan had squeezed himself down beside them.

Thankfully no one else seemed to pick up on tension between the two of them but Y/N still regretted absolutely everything about her decision to talk to Harry. It hadn’t helped make anything clearer and she was now stuck next to him in a busy club with their drunk friends. Great.

To make things worse she then, out of nowhere, heard someone call her name and she nearly dropped her drink as she noticed who it belonged to. Well fuck.

“Luke.”

His name fell from her lips as soon as she spotted him waving at her. He came up and stood behind Nate and Lucy, with his hands in his pockets and his hair slicked back perfectly. Lucy was quick to turn around to get a look at the guy Y/N had been raving about just a couple days ago. Then she looked at Y/N again with her jaw hanging open and gave her a look that confirmed Luke was indeed as flawless as he had been described.

The tension was thick and awkward as Luke stood before her and her friends, more specifically Harry, and Y/N could feel him tense up beside her as he stared Luke down. She had no idea what to say or do. “This is our new neighbour I was telling you about,” was the only thing she could think of. The smirk on Luke’s face as he heard that she had been talking about him didn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’alright then?” Luke asked and nodded towards Y/N. She couldn’t breathe. How was he there? After everything that had just happened with Harry... where did Luke even come from? She hadn’t processed her conversation with Harry yet, how was she supposed to have a conversation with Luke again, in front of everyone, when her head was so scrambled?

“Yeah, I’m great.” What a fucking lie.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh.” What was happening? “Ummmm, I don’t - well I - ehm I-”

“Yes! She would love a drink!” Tara interrupted her with a big grin, and any other time she would’ve been grateful for her friend stepping in and helping, but now? “Wouldn’t you?” Y/N wasn’t even sure.

“I ehhh - well, I guess so?”

What?

Her whole body was screaming NO when she got up and felt Harry’s warmth leave her side. His eyes burned into her back and it was a miracle she even made it to the bar with Luke without vomiting right there and then.

Two days ago, when she first bumped into Luke, all she wanted was to go on a date with him. But something had changed. Something inside her had clicked, and it wasn’t her hormones or the alcohol this time. All she could think about as Luke talked to her and bought her a new drink was how he wasn’t Harry.

Luke didn’t know how she liked her tea. Luke didn’t know she couldn’t go straight to bed after watching a thriller or anything that resembled a scary movie; she needed to watch something more upbeat and cheerful before going to sleep. Luke didn’t know she liked to keep things in order. Luke didn’t know she ate her weight in chocolate when she got her period. Luke didn’t know she loved mint chocolate chip ice cream. Luke didn’t know she called her mum at least once a day. Luke didn’t know she was desperate to find love.

Harry did.

Harry knew all those things.

And as she stood at the bar with Luke she realised he wasn’t actually flawless. He was still gorgeous, only a little less breathtaking that time around because he knew he looked good and he wasn’t humble about it. He smelled like cigarettes and she hated the smell of smoke mixed with his strong cologne. It gave her a headache. He also couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage and didn’t bother asking her anything about herself.

His nose piercing didn’t even look that good.

Luke wasn’t flawless and she didn’t really like him.

Harry wasn’t flawless either... but she still liked him.

“And that’s when we-”

“You know what Luke,” she interrupted and put a finger up to stop him from talking. “I think I have to get back to my friends. But um... “ She glanced at the drink he had bought her before picking it up and downed it in one go, because he had paid for it and the least she could do was drink it. The alcohol burned a little in the back of her throat and she accidentally spilled a few drops down her shirt. She hardly noticed though because she was just aching to get back to her friends. Luke looked at her with wide eyes and a puzzled expression. “Thanks for the drink! I’ll see you around.”

With that she walked off with just one thing, or rather someone, on her mind.

But that someone wasn’t there when she found her friends again. She spotted Lucy and her bright dress sitting on Nate’s lap. She spotted Tara having a conversation with a girl from the table next to them. She spotted Declan and Connor laughing loudly over something on their phones.

She did not spot Harry.

Tara was the first one to notice her standing there just staring at the empty seat where Harry was sat a while ago. Tara excused herself from the conversation she was having and came up to Y/N, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Where is Harry?”

“He left,” Tara told her. “I think.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lucy came up to her as well, with a small frown on her face, worried something had happened. “Is everything alright?”

“I need to talk to Harry,” Y/N said and looked around the club; hoping to spot his curls somewhere in the crowd. Her eyes stung with tears when she couldn’t see him.

“He left after you walked off,” Lucy confirmed softly. “Is everything alright? Did something happen with Luke?”

“Yes- I mean no. I have to go,” was all she told them before she rushed off. “I need Harry.”

Y/N wasn’t aware of the three words that left her mouth but it didn’t make them any less true. It all made so much sense. It had clicked. ‘What if you already have?’

Yes.

How could she have been so blind?

When she finally made it home she was out of breath from running all the way from the bus stop to their flat. She prayed Harry had actually gone home and not continued his night at some other club. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he had.

But as soon as she stepped inside she heard the familiar sound of his guitar coming from his bedroom and she didn’t even bother catching her breath before walking across the flat in a couple of strides. She hadn't really thought anything through. Her whole body was just screaming at her that she needed Harry and it couldn't wait.

Harry left his dirty dishes out. He sometimes forgot to put the toilet seat down. He was disorganized. He did not only leave his dirty dishes out but he could also leave his dirty socks lying around the flat. He didn't like the same music as her. He could be petty and immature. He had ignored her for two days.

But Harry also made her tea when she was having a bad day. He made her laugh. He made her food in middle of the night. He always asked about her day. He helped her home when she got too drunk. He sometimes surprised her with breakfast. He understood her. He made her feel at ease and she could always be herself around him.

All of the good thing outweighed the bad, and the bad was only part of who he was; Harry, her roommate, her friend, the boy who she hadn't realised gave her butterflies until now.

And perhaps she should’ve knocked or at least made her presence known in any other way because as she slung his bedroom door open Harry was visibly startled and a sour note came from his guitar. He looked at her with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What the fuck?”

“Do I have any flaws?” she asked him breathlessly.

“What?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“What about me annoys you?”

“Shouldn’t you be off getting a drink with Mr. Flawess himself.”

“Well I changed my mind. Now just answer the question,” she urged, wanting to cut straight to the chase. Harry frowned and she wasn’t really sure if he was angry with her or just confused. Maybe both? It didn’t matter though, she just needed answers before she passed out from the anxiety running through her. “Do I have any flaws?”

“I - yeah. You do,” he said. Y/N nodded and stepped further into his room, wanting to be closer to him. “Why?”

“Just - wait,” she told him and ignored his question by asking her own. “What are they?”

Harry didn’t reply at first. He just sat in silence and stared at her with his brows still pressed together in a frown. God, what if she had gotten it all wrong? She’d have to give up the flat to Harry and move out, leave Manchester, maybe even leave the UK. She’d be absolutely mortified; she’d never recover from it.

Just as she lost all hope and considered running off to hide in her own bedroom for the rest of the night, possibly for the rest of the term, Harry slowly put his guitar to the side. He rubbed his hand over his chin and pinched the bottom of his lip between his index finger and his thumb, contemplating his next few words cautiously.

“You’re incredibly stubborn,” he told her and despite the fact that he had just basically insulted her a wave relief washed over her as he finally said something.

“Okay, what else?”

“You ask way too many questions during a movie.”

“Okay.”

“You overthink absolutely everything.”

“More.”

“You leave notes around the flat over the most meaningless things.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t leave the kitchen a mess then.”

“You have too much milk in your tea.”

“You don’t have enough.”

Harry cracked a smile but it faltered almost just as quickly.

“You want love but don’t see the person right in front of you who has fallen head over heels for you.”

Y/N had never seen or heard him as vulnerable as he was right there and then. For a moment she wondered if maybe she had misheard him but judging by his nervous fidgeting and how he for the first time ever struggled to look her in the eyes she quickly realised she hadn’t.

“I do now,” she admitted quietly, almost too quiet, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “I see you.”

Harry still heard her and looked right into her eyes as he took a sharp breath. Her body ached to feel his touch as she stood in the middle of his room, terrified of what she was about to ask next, but there was no going back. It was, after all, the reason she had followed him home. “And you still like me despite all my flaws?”

“Well,” Harry started and fought back a smile. “I suppose I wouldn’t have saved all your notes if I didn't.”

It was really all it took for her to close the space between them and throw herself over him. Harry was quick to catch her and his arms wrapped around her body tightly, holding her close, as she pressed her lips to his.

It was strange kissing him and she didn’t quite know where to put her own hands at first, but it felt right that much she knew. Her whole body was on fire from just a simple little kiss. Y/N never wanted it to stop. Harry grinned against her lips before deepening the kiss and sneaked his hands in under her blazer, pushing it off her shoulders before running his hands over her body.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and it was almost ridiculous how giddy she felt. Harry made her feel drunk, more so than the alcohol in her body. Nothing had ever tasted as good as him. She was completely lost in him and his warmth.

It wasn’t until she felt him pull at her trousers that she was reminded of reality again and she pulled away from his lips. “You okay?” Harry asked immediately.

“Yeah,” she panted and leaned her forehead against his, twirling the hair in the back of his neck around her finger carefully. “I just... I still got my period.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded and tightened his grip on her, still holding her close, and she was sure she could feel his heartbeat against hers. “S’that all? Because frankly I don’t really care about a little blood right now.”

“Oh.”

“Do you?”

“I... no.”

“You sure?” Harry wondered and placed his fingers under her chin and angled her face so he could look into her eyes. He saw right through her and her mind was hazy as her body melted right into his. Harry made her feel safe and comfortable and it was all she needed to know she was sure.

She needed him.

“Give me a second,” she said and gave him a quick peck before getting off him. It pained her to do so but even as she made her way over to the bathroom to remove her tampon, perhaps one of the most unattractive things you could do, Harry’s eyes on her as she walked away made her feel sexier than she ever had before.

She didn’t waste a single second inside the bathroom and quickly did what she had to before she just about ran back to Harry’s bedroom. She caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. She looked dazed. But in the best possible way. Her cheeks were rosy. Her hair was messy. Lips swollen. It was the first time she had ever seen herself look so radiant. Glowing almost.

Happy.

She also decided to not put her trousers back on after she was done in the bathroom, because why waste time when she was planning to take them off soon anyway?

And Harry seemed to have had the same idea because when she came back he had already removed his floral shirt and his beige trousers as well. His lips were the same colour as her lipstick and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her bare legs and underwear. It made her whole body tingle and she didn’t mind him gawking, because she couldn’t take her own eyes away from his naked chest and the bulge between his legs.

“Come here,” Harry murmured and held out his hand for her to take. He gently pulled at her arm until she was sitting on top of him on the bed, straddling his hips. The lack of clothing on both of them made her blush as he embraced her and she felt all of him under her.

Harry cupped one of his hands under her jaw and leaned in to kiss her again. It started out slow but as soon as his lips touched her a soft moan came from her. His lips were slightly chapped and yet they were the best lips she had ever kissed. It didn't matter that they weren’t perfectly soft. Not one bit. Y/N never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again.

The kiss quickly deepend and she had her hands in his hair, tugging at his soft curls and getting lost in the taste of his lips. She was throbbing against him and knew he could also feel just how desperately she wanted him through the thin lace of her panties. His lips were eager against hers and she was too lost in him to notice he had blindly reached out to the bedside table and sought out a condom.

It wasn’t until she felt his hand and the small foil packet brush against her leg that she realised. She pulled back and met his green eyes, breathing hard as she tried to find her words to speak. He looked back at her with questioning eyes, silently asking her if she was alright with what was happening between them, and she just nodded.

She sat back to give him some room and watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers and then helped him get them off before he rolled the condom over his length. The sight alone made her light-headed and, if he hadn’t already, she was sure he could hear how hard her heart was beating. He also caught her staring but she didn’t really care and he only pulled her back into him.

He kissed her along her collarbone, sucking lightly at the skin as he made his way up to her neck. Y/N closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Harry ran his hands up and down her back and then slipped his hands in under the tank top she was wearing before he pulled it off her swiftly.

Harry took a few seconds to stare at her naked chest when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra before he kissed each of her breasts lightly, making her nipples hard. Y/N just cupped his face and pulled his head up so she could kiss him again, impatient and desperate to feel him inside her and he giggled against her lips.

Harry only pushed the crotch of her underwear to the side when he lined himself up under her. She gasped as she slowly sank down onto him and had to break their kiss. Harry had one hand around her thigh and the other on the back of her head, her hair twisted between his fingers, as they breathed the same air.

When she eventually started to move her hips after getting used to the stretch of him he groaned softly, low in his throat, and tightened the grip he had on her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Her blood rushed inside her and her whole chest and face flushed from hearing his words and how hoarse his voice was. She put her hands on his stomach, her fingers digging into his skin around his tattoo, before lifting her hips and taking all of him again; craving the friction created between the two of them.

Harry moaned and let his head fall backwards, breathing heavily, and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his strong jawline. She also couldn’t stop herself from kissing him right there and Harry moaned again as he felt her lips on his skin.

It made her smile; knowing she was having the same affect on him that he had on her.

Y/N did her best to find a steady rhythm riding him but her thighs were trembling around him and it had been awhile since she had been on top of anyone. She had almost forgotten how to do it. Harry bucked his hips up into her and she barely had time to react before he impatiently flipped them over and yanked her underwear off.

A loud moan left her lips as he pushed right back into her and instantly built up a new quicker pace, giving her all of him and hitting the spot in her that made her toes curl. He leaned down and connected their mouths again. His chest was slick with sweat as his body pressed against hers and her hands were all over him because she just couldn’t decide where to put them. She wanted all of him.

And when Harry hoisted himself up and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder to get deeper she didn’t care if any of their neighbours heard her.

“Oh my god.”

Then his fingers were stroking her between her legs and it quite literally took her breath away. Her whole body was trembling as she felt every hot and thick inch of him. Her release was close, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach and he could see it on her as he continued to move above her.

And not once did Harry lose his pace or falter when her nails scratched his back and she clenched tightly around him as her orgasm swept through her body. He kept thrusting into her while she moaned and shivered beneath him.

Just as she came down from her high he got his own release and came with a loud sigh of relief. He continued to move his hips against hers until his muscles gave up from exhaustion and he collapsed on top of her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, both spent, and she tried to catch her breath.

Which was hard seeing as he was still on top of her and she could still feel him inside her.

When he raised his head to look down at her, grinning from ear to ear, her whole stomach fluttered. And this time she knew it was because of Harry. It wasn’t because of alcohol. Not because she had a hangover. Not because she was stressed. Maybe because of a few hormones.

But there were just no excuses.

Eventually Harry got up. He removed the used condom and retrieved a small towel to clean himself up quickly before handing it over and climbing back into bed with her.

Y/N curled up against his chest and let him run his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head, and she was seconds away from falling asleep when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry for calling you desperate.”

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him.

“S’okay, I have been a little.”

“Still,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t really fair of me.”

“You know you could’ve just told me.”

“I was going to,” Harry admitted with a low chuckle. “But you always came back home announcing you were going on another date so it never really felt like the right time.”

“Hmm, well you didn’t really help yourself by bringing a girl back like every weekend,” she pointed out and laughed lightly. “It was hard to not be blind.”

“Had to try to forget about you somehow,” Harry admitted and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger for a few seconds before continuing. “But you and your stupid post-it notes made it hard.”

“Did you really save all of them?” she asked and pushed herself up so she was leaning on her elbows. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning proudly. Harry laughed and tipped his head back, covering his face with his hands as his cheeks turned pink.

“God, I’m gonna regret telling you that aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” she laughed again before giving his chest a quick kiss, just because she could. “I do kind of enjoy writing them for you though.”

“Of course you do,” Harry said and peaked out from behind his hands with a cheeky smile. “And I enjoy leaving the kitchen a mess because I know you’ll leave me a new one,” he confessed and tapped her nose.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” she exclaimed with a gasp and shoved him away from her playfully. “You absolute knobhead!”

Harry only laughed and pulled her back into his warm body.

On her way back home from the club Y/N had been a little bit worried that she was wrong or that it was going to be weird to go from roommates to more with Harry -- but it felt like the most natural thing. It felt just as natural as everything else they already did together, and maybe that was why she had been so picky recently. Maybe it was why she looked for flaws in every guy she dated so she had an excuse to not see them again. She had already found what she wanted; she just hadn’t realised. How stupid.

“Hey Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

please let me know your thoughts here ! And please share it if you liked it, it would mean a lot to me! 💛

#Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles writing #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles one shot #Harry Styles fluff #Harry Styles smut #Harry Styles #Fallinharry10k

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weaselbeaselpants · 3 years

Text

One bit I really don’t get with the Lindsay Ellis critics is ‘she’s privileged’ and classist(classest?class-ist whatevRICH PERSON TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO/feel).

Um...yeah. Okay... If you mean her critiques come from a place of privilege. I still don’t see how she can’t possibly talk about things she hasn’t experienced.

The first time I saw someone make this argument it was about RENT and how Lindsay was annoyed that Mark is rude and dismissive and acts oppressed by his otherwise shown to be worried mother. A commentator said “well MAYBE his family is ABUSIVE did you ever think about THAT?!?!”. Yeah. Have you seen the movie/stage show? Lindsay has and her sin in this case is not establishing how any kind of true distfunction in Mark’s life is NOT shown to us - the audience: Mark Cohen is a privileged, whiny character compared to his roommates who have very serious problems but he acts like he’s got it just as bad because he insists on being a starving artist. She talks about this especially in how Mark exploits the homeless woman.

A breakdown of how - with a few tweeks Mark could have had that extra depth and feel like an out-of-his-field runaway from a troubled home who’s burdened/guilty for not dying by the system like his friends - while nice for a rewrite video, was not the point of Lindsay RENT analysis and would have distracted from the main thesis, that being where RENT goes wrong.

The rest of the time when she’s talking about race or gender or other problems she collaborates with people who know more about these subjects personally. I never feel like Lindsay is explaining to me, already a feminist, how to be a REAL feminist like her - I simply feel like she words it better than I ever could. Unless the privilege you’re talking about is the privilege of having gone to a university and graduated. Like yeah, it’s a privilege but it’s also work and takes a lot of effort and money doesn’t come from nowhere no matter how much is put aside for you - I consider you shit if you got into a prestigious school, never took it seriously and effectively payed for your diploma instead of earning it - but again, that’s still work and I think it’s shitty to insist ANY graduate with credentials who seems to genuinely care and know what they’re talking about. Seriously, pre-Axiom’s End Lindsay wasn’t rich you know. The woman worked for freaking ThatGuyWiththeGlasses. Money matters are tight and, again, in addressing issues like homelessness and shit in RENT I never once believe she’s waxing her ego when calling Mark out on his bullshit performance activism.

Ragging leftist wheatube or whatever it’s called for being made up of a bunch of white people with degrees is a fair complaint, even if I don’t see it as purposefully discriminating. It just happens to be a bunch of the same people over and over again and we could use more POC in the circle voicing their own thoughts and analysis’s. But then there’s harping on these people for doing ANYTHING that is about someone else’s social problems and acting like they’re lecturing us on how to be REALLY marginalized...which I just don’t see. In her essays, Lindsay is wording her stance as best she can and including takes and opinions which are NOT her own cuz she needs to argue for or against them as well. Her ending thesis’ are often universal but also open ended.

I get mad when cr1tikal, Double Toasted, or YMS talk about things like autistic people when they themselves admit to not fully committing or wanting to listen to every autistic person out there. I feel like ‘Oh. Nice of you to get offended for me but, like, I kind of want to say my piece here’ and then I get talked over. I don’t feel that way with Lindsay, k? I’m gonna hold this woman to scrutiny if she goes full Lacey Green but until then, which will hopefully never happen, I’m sorry she’s not even on the tip of the controversial yts iceberg chart.

If I sound tired it’s because there’s white upper-middleclass girls in my life who; DO buy their way through college and cry about how the teachers were meant to them, feel oppressed when their middle-aged father doesn’t say exactly “Happy Birthday”or get them a present on their literal birthday party hike arranged BY said father, and demand their boyfriends give them extravagant valentines while they have no jobs and pay no rent WHILE ALSO making grandiose feminist gestures to feel good about themselves - you want to talk privilege?

#lindsay ellis #the white girls in my last paragraph by the by #basically girl defined but progressives instead of Fundamentalists

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pretty-setter-bois · 3 years

Text

slow dancing in the dark

request; none! just me indulging in self-induced fantasies (listen to the album while reading, save the song for last) ღ

summary; you’ve been day-dreaming about this moment since middle school, and he flies out in your first year of college to make it true.

word count; 1994™

warnings; swearing, someone almost falls off the roof.

OIKAWA TOORU. MANY know him as the previous setter for aoba johsai’s volleyball team, the handsome captain with a fanclub (wherever he goes), or even the grand king. you know him as your up-to-no-good, determined, and impulsive best friend.

the one you’ve been in love with on-and-off since middle school, that is. iwaizumi is the last to figure it out, but scolds you for it the most.

how can you not fall in love with those beautiful brown eyes? especially when they’ve come all the way to tokyo, and currently reside on the rooftop of your dorm, over a smug smile.

your groceries slip, and you almost slip trying to catch them. your first instinct is to scold him, yell at him because he might slip, or that he’ll injure his knee.

how’d he even get there in the first place? how’d you even get there in the first place? let’s back track a little, shall we?

“(Y/N),” YOUR ROOMATE, kiyoko calls. “we don’t have any food in the fridge. it’s your turn to go grocery shopping.”

“i’ll go tomorrow, i promise!” you answer, being too engrossed in your music to even think about doing anything else. “can’t you see i’m working?”

“you said that yesterday." kiyoko deadpans. "besides, you’re just listening to ‘BALLADS 1′ on repeat. go buy the groceries.”

“you’re too cruel, yoko-chan.” you grumble, pausing the music you’ve been annoying kiyoko with.

you walk into your room — well, shared room, considering the dorms consist of one bedroom each — and change. you decide to second guess your outfit, knowing there was no one you’ll want to impress in the middle of the night at the grocery store.

you grab your phone and wallet, slipping your device into the pocket of your pants and yelling one last annoying phrase to kiyoko before closing the door, knowing she’ll lock it after you.

the two of you live on the second floor dorms, so the walk to the exit was much longer than it was from the first floor. it only took a few steps away from the stairs before you hear a buzz from your phone.

kiyoko (❁´◡`❁)

8:57 PM

Eggs, toast, milk, cucumbers, lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, rice.

8:58 PM

is that all?

kiyoko (❁´◡`❁)

8:58 PM

No, just all I can remember off the top of my head.

8:58 PM

don’t tell me there’s more-

kiyoko (❁´◡`❁)

8:59

Start capitalizing your words and I’ll tell you.

8:59 PM

but capitals arent pretty!

kiyoko (❁´◡`❁)

8:59 PM

Aren’t*

Aren’t you an English major? Why do you still type like this?

9:00 PM

do you want groceries?

kiyoko (❁´◡`❁)

9:00 PM

Do you want to kicked out? I can tell the headmaster who has actually paid rent for last month...

9:00 PM

No ma’am, I apologize for breathing your air.

kiyoko (❁´◡`❁)

9:01 PM

as you should.

you chuckle at the irony, tucking your phone back into your pants as you assume that kiyoko would send you the rest of the list after checking the contents of your mostly-empty kitchen.

you pick out the groceries she sent you, and sure enough, get another list, which you also buy. you stand in the checkout lane, scanning and paying for all of your items.

you can’t help but notice the air around you get chilly, but that doesn’t matter. you’re almost home, where kiyoko has promised a warm dinner with the ingredients you bought.

you turn around the corner, navigating the ever-long rows and columns of dormitories of your university. once you find yours, your grip loosens on the bags.

oikawa tooru. many know him as the previous setter for aoba johsai’s volleyball team, the handsome captain with a fanclub (wherever he goes), or even the grand king. you know him as the dumbass, standing on the rooftop of your dorm, “yahoo, (Y/N)-chan!”

“WHAT THE HELL?” you ask, though it was more like a question for yourself.

“you’re going to get cold in that t-shirt, (Y/N)-chan!” he answers, his teeth shining through his smile.

maybe you should have dressed to impress, instead of going out looking like you've just rolled out of bed.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, long forgetting the groceries set on the floor. “aren’t you supposed to be in argentina?”

“ah, we got an early vacation.”

“in the middle of fall? you just arrived, like, two months ago.”

“yeah.”

“how long have you been in japan?”

“since this morning.”

“aren’t you tired?”

“no, not much.”

that wasn’t a lie. the adrenaline in oikawa’s veins was more than enough to keep him awake.

“why are you on the roof?”

“so that i could look for you.”

“how’d you even get up?”

“i climbed the balconies.”

“do you know how to get down?”

“um...”

“dumbass...” you facepalm, before climbing the balconies to make your way up to him. “you’re the stupidest person i know, you know?”

he gives out his hand to help pull you up.

“but you love me, (Y/N)-chan!”

“sadly...” you mumble. “you can’t even last two months without me or iwaizumi keeping you in check.”

“take a seat.” he says, patting the spot on the roof next to him.

“just so you know, my roommate is still awake, so if i fall, she’ll avenge me.”

“i’m well aware.” he chuckles, his side profile glistening in the moonlight. “are you cold?”

“no.” you lie, teeth clattering and arms frozen to the touch.

he wordlessly takes off his jacket, draping it over your arms. “i have a hoodie on underneath.” you nod.

“so, why’d the grand king come to visit me of all people?” you giggle, to let him know you were joking.

“i missed you.” he says, his playful tone no more.

“you met up with iwaizumi this morning, right?” you clear your throat, trying to diminish any hope of the love you held for him being reciprocated.

“yeah, but just for a bit. i came to japan because i wanted to talk to you.”

“about what?”

“dance with me, (Y/N)-chan.”

you’re confused, scared of falling off the roof, and freezing.

“okay.”

he stands, moving higher up for a smaller chance of falling off. he extends his arm to you, the look of plain serendipity on his face. you grasp his fingers in yours, feeling them hoist you up close to him.

since the dorms only consist of two floors each, the rooftops were mostly flat, making it easier to maneuver on them.

you could faintly hear the music you’d been listening to before you’d left your flat. you could’ve sworn you’d turned it off.

“i didn’t know they taught slow dancing in argentina.” your voice was low, and he only hears it because he was that close.

“you’d be surprised.” he chuckles, continuing to dance with you.

you forgot about the jacket on your shoulders until it almost falls off, being whisked away by the light breeze of the night.

you catch it, and oikawa catches you.

the jacket hangs off of your hand loosely as your grasp on it tightens. oikawa’s grasp around your own wrist tightens, as he pulls you close to his chest.

an arm around your head, the other around your back, he says, “i love you, (Y/N)-chan.”

you turn to face him, heart pounding in your chest as your mind swells with disappointment.

i wasn’t going to get my hopes up.

“i know, tooru.”

“no,” he holds you tighter. “you don’t.”

you try to look up at his face, but his hold stays strong.

“just let me have this, yeah?”

you nod, staying silent.

“it’s not the type of love i have for iwaizumi, and hopefully not the type of love you have for iwaizumi.” he cards his fingers through your hair. “i think about you all the time, about how it’d be like to hold you. to see your smile everyday. to know you’d be there for me, and i’d be there for you.”

“but i am?” you look up at him.

his face is a mix of something melancholic and something hopeful.

“i think about how it’s be like to call you mine.”

you don’t say anything, instead trying to stop the overflowing tears that pool in the corners if your eyes.

“you can’t just say that!”

he stays quiet, his grip on your biceps staying firm. you were sobbing.

“y-you can’t just come t-to tokyo, a-all the way fr-from argentina, to t-tell me that you love me!”

you look at him. you can’t help but think your tears make you unattractive, but that doesn't matter to him.

“not after all these years...” you sniffle. “this better not be one of your stupid jokes, shittykawa!” you point a finger at his chest and continue to poke. “i’ve been in love with your dumbass since fucking middle school, you idiot! do you know how many times i’ve day-dreamed about you saying those words to me?”

his eyes widen, looking down at your shorter figure.

“yeah, stupid! even coach irihata knew! i had to bribe kunimi and ask for kindaichi’s help to keep him quiet!”

“well, i don’t think an impulsive plane ticket could make up for that,” he says. “but let’s make up for lost time?”

you cross your arms, pouting as you look off to the side. he has to admit, you look adorable. he moves his arms up to your shoulders, wrapping them around your back.

“wh-what are you doing?” you ask.

he tackles you, laying over you as his arms move beside you. your faces were mere inches apart.

“my knee hurts from all that dancing, (Y/N)-chan.”

you know he’s lying, but you’ll be lying if you say you don’t like the proximity.

has the music always been this loud?

“this is your favourite song, isn’t it?”

you nod, your face flushed. you can’t help but sneak a small peak at his lips.

he notices. “hey, (Y/N)-chan?”

“yeah, tooru?”

“kiss me.”

“h-huh?!”

“timid as always, aren’t you?” he shakes his head as he chuckles, leaning in slowly.

you close your eyes, awaiting the contact of his lips against yours.

they were soft, almost as soft as the moon made them out to be under its reflection.

more than that — they felt so right against yours.

extra:

IT IS AROUND midnight when you get back to your dorm, the grocery bags are messy and your skin is red from the cold. kiyoko doesn’t seem to mind instead telling you to place them on the table and offers you a cup of tea.

“hey, yoko?” you ask, keeping the tea close to you as a second source of warmth.

“yeah?” she answers, taking the groceries.

“you didn’t happen to be playing ‘BALLADS 1′ while i was gone, where you?” you sip on the tea, almost downing half of it in one sip.

“i don’t recall doing so, no.” she turns to the sink to wash the rice, and you can see the smile on her face despite her attempts to hide it.

you finish the rest of your tea, hugging her from behind as you place the cup in the sink.

“well, tooru told me everything! he told me you were the one who told him where to find the dorm, and when to come. you even set me out to buy groceries just to find him on the roof. you do have a soft spot for me after all!”

she chuckles, your arms still around her. “did he tell you about how i emailed your professor for an extension on your essay?”

“you did?!” you beam at her. “what’d he say?”

“he said you have until friday, so you better spend the next few days with your boyfriend and get right back to school afterwards, okay?”

“yes ma’am!” you smile widely, dashing out the door to find a certain brown-haired setter.

NOTES ♕❣⁂ღ

going thru an oikawa phase, this just felt so right in my head bahaha-

also stan kiyoko.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #seijoh #seijoh imagines #aoba johsai imagine #aoba johsai #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru x reader

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talatomaz · 4 years

Text

the silent brothers | izzy lightwood x fray!reader

a/n: I may have projected a little but oh well 🤷🏽‍♀️ I’m actually really enjoying this so far and hopefully, I’ll continue with this

warnings: brief mentions of death

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii | pt.iii

reader is clary’s younger half-sister who learns about the shadow world at the same time clary does

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Ugh.”

Simon groaned as he lay down on the bed beside you.

After Izzy had marked a healing rune on you, Clary had expressed her interest in questioning Hodge, an ex-Circle member, but you had declined to join her and Jace.

The both of them were getting increasingly close whilst you and Clary seemed to be growing further and further apart. She supported your decision, not wanting to push you after your father’s murder, but you could tell she was still annoyed.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help find your mother - of course you did - but you had this feeling that whomever this Valentine person was, and why he wanted the Mortal Cup, was much more linked to Clary than it was you. And you learned the hard way to always trust your gut instincts.

So instead, you both agreed that you would let Clary and Jace question Hodge whilst Izzy would watch over you and Simon, or rather, ‘the mundane’ as Alec kept referring him to.

Currently, you and Simon were in one of the spare rooms in the Institute, which was glamoured to look like an abandoned Church but was actually the Shadowhunters New York HQ, and Izzy was making some breakfast which Jace had ominously warned you to stay away from.

“It’s been a hell of a day, Lewis.”

“You’re telling me.”

You sat up, resting on your elbows, “Oh, really? What have you been doing?“

Simon playfully pushed you when you failed to hide a snicker, “Shut up, Fray. This whole Shadowhunter thing has taken a toll on me.”

“You’re a mundane, Simon.”

“Shut up.” He repeated, but there was no harshness behind his tone.

“Hey, I’m just saying. I always knew you were a muggle.”

“Rude.” He said, swiping at your elbow so you fell back down on the pillow, making you both burst out laughing.

You and Simon always got along well.

Though he was Clary’s best friend, he was more like your big brother, even though he was less than a year older than you. The three of you had known each other for almost all of your lives. And despite you moving away, you and Simon still remained close. So, of course, he was there for you and Clary during this particularly bad time.

You lay beside each other as the silence encompassed the room. Though it was quiet, your mind was loud as you played through the day’s events in your head.

When you had woken up, you were in college, relatively care-free. Only bound by the ropes of education and nothing more.

But now, you were fatherless and practically motherless. You had lost your home, all your belongings too because your father had burned them to protect you from being traced, and on top of that, you found out that you were an angel.

It really had been one hell of a day.

“How are you, y/n?”

“I’m exhausted.” You answered. “My mind is spinning and I just want everything to stop.”

“I’m so sorry. About this. About your dad. About everything.”

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with it.“

Simon sat up and looked down at you.

“You need to learn to process it, not just deal with it. You’re allowed to cry and be upset, y/n.”

“Simon-“ You sighed.

“Yeah, I know, you don’t like to cry in front of anyone but you have to let yourself feel everything. You can cry in front of me and Clary. You know that.”

“Simon, just let it go. Please.” You said quietly, you didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Okay, but promise me you’ll talk to someone if you need to.”

When Simon raised his pinkie finger in the air, you laughed. You hadn’t done this for a while and it was a silly thing you did when you were kids but it was important. You raised your pinkie and locked it with his.

“Yes, I promise.”

Izzy smiled when she peeked through the door and saw you laughing with Simon. She had finished making breakfast a few minutes ago but had been standing outside the door, listening to you and Simon. She hadn’t meant to do it but this was the best way she could learn important information about you. After all, you, Clary and Simon were complete strangers and she needed to protect her family from any danger.

She was about to interrupt when she heard Simon mention her name.

“How do we know we can trust Izzy and the others? We should be going to Luke.”

“I know. And whilst I agree with you about that, I also trust Clary and if she says we can’t trust him, I need to believe in that judgement. At least for now. She’s all I have left.”

“Okay but just because we can’t trust Luke doesn’t mean we can trust these-these supposed angels-these Shadowhunters.”

Simon said exasperated.

“I get what you’re trying to say but they seem like good people and you know I have a sixth sense about these things and I’m never wrong. Besides, Clary and I are Shadowhunters. My dad is-was. I need to learn more about him. This is the only link I have left to him, Simon.” Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Okay fine, but should we even let Clary be alone with Jace? We might need to protect her from him.”

“And why would Clary need protection from Jace?”

Your’s and Simon’s head turned to face the door where Izzy walked through holding a tray of food. She gently placed it on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and approached Simon.

“He’s the ultimate protector. I mean, hello, have you seen the guy?” She smirked as she got closer to Simon.

He leaned back, flustered in his usual Simon way. He adjusted his glasses and stumbled over his words as he tried to stand up but failed.

“Now, let’s eat.”

She said, grabbing a piece of toast. Simon politely declined whilst you grinned at his awkward composure.

“Y/N, you need to eat. When was the last time you had anything?”

You thought back to the cup of coffee you had had earlier and remembered that was the only thing you had consumed. And honestly, you were hungry. You picked up a piece of the, well, burnt toast and began eating. You managed to finish one slice before losing your appetite again so you washed it down with some water and sat back as Izzy started to ask you both questions about your life.

She wanted to know what life as a mundane was like and a bit about your family history. You revealed more than you usually would have but you weren’t sure why.

Simon looked like he was ready to hand over his life for her which you thought was unnecessary as Izzy looked like she could take care of herself.

But you could understand why.

She was stunning.

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Valentine has her.”

Clary said, a mixture of anger and horror on her face.

During her conversation with Hodge, she’d learned that your mother was an ex-Circle member and that both of your early memories had more than likely been taken by a warlock, at your mother’s request.

Clary then had a vision of Dot at a club called “Pandemonium”. But, by the time you had geared up and arrived, she was gone. More than likely having been kidnapped by Valentine’s men.

When you all arrived back at the Institute deciding on what to do next, Jace had interrupted to suggest a dangerous option.

“I’m sorry, who are the Silent Brothers?” You asked, confused at Izzy and Alec’s outrage and downright refusal.

“They’re like superior Shadowhunters.” Jace explained.

“They possess the ability to recover memories.” Izzy continued.

“Yes and that process can kill you, so there’s that.” Alec finished, making you look wildly at Clary.

“Your bedside manner is abysmal.” Simon’s attempt at humour failed to make you laugh as your mind started to spiral with the possibility of losing Clary.

Alec, Izzy and Jace argued amongst themselves about the danger that it posed and that they should report to the Clave instead.

The Clave was essentially like the Shadowhunters’ Government and Justice System. And all Government agencies were sure to be working in their own interests and not the people’s. And you had a feeling that the Clave were no different.

“Unless someone can give me a better option, we’re doing it.” Clary said, making everyone look at you and her.

“Speak for yourself, I’m not doing it.”

“Y/N-“

“No, Clary. If you want to, fine, but I’m not.”

“Don’t you want our Mom back? Your memories?” Clary asked, raising her voice whilst everyone else remained silent.

“Of course, I want Mum back! But I don’t want to know what I’ve forgotten. I don’t need to-“

“Yes, you do. They’re important or else Mom wouldn’t have had a warlock take them from us.” Clary started to scold you before you shouted.

“Clary, for God’s sake, just shut up!”

Everyone stared at you and you started to blush at your outburst but still remained angry at Clary‘s carelessness.

“You’re so goddamn impulsive that you can’t see the danger in this situation. You could die! And then where would I be? My dad was just murdered, Mum’s been kidnapped by some maniac and now you want me to lose my sister too?”

When she remained silent, you saw tears forming in her eyes and, to your horror, you could feel yours doing the same.

“You think with your heart. Which I love about you. But you need to think with your head too. If you want to do it, whatever. But don’t force me to do it too.”

Then you walked away from the group and made your way to one of the only rooms you were familiar with.

“I’ll go after her.” Simon said, holding Clary’s arm in support.

“No, I’ll go. Might be better if it’s not any of you two right now. And I think I know where she’s gone anyways.” Izzy countered.

She didn’t wait for an answer and immediately followed after you.

She found you sitting on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands.

You looked up as you heard the door open, surprised to see Izzy standing there. Well, it was her room after all.

After you had eaten breakfast earlier, you had learned that the supposed ‘guest’ room you were in was actually Izzy’s room. And, to be honest, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t made that assumption yourself as the room was elegant but also simple at the same time which suited her.

“Nice room choice.” She teased lightly, smirking when you blushed again.

“Sorry. This was the only room that I knew. I should have asked first.”

“Well, that would have ruined the roll you were on. You couldn’t exactly say ‘do what you want, Clary. Oh, can I just storm into your room, Izzy?’”

She said it in such a way that you couldn’t help but smile.

“Awh, see? There’s your beautiful smile.” Izzy commented and you felt yourself blush even harder.

You stood up, feeling uneasy that you were sitting down on her bed, and made your way to a pillar that stood in her room and leaned against it.

“I know Clary’s angry with me and I get it, I would be too. But she’s just jumping into things without thinking of the consequences.” You sighed.

“I know why she’s doing it. The moment she stops and has a moment to think, she’ll probably spiral so this is her way of managing that but she can’t just expect me to follow her. There’s just so much happening and I just need a moment to breathe.”

You explained, your head resting against the pillar with your eyes closed, trying to calm yourself.

“Are you expecting me to give you a pep talk or something?” Izzy joked.

“No, not really. Pep talks are overrated.” You shrugged.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself momentarily stunned because Izzy was no longer by the door, but was instead standing a few inches from you, staring at you intently.

“What?” You asked, your voice but a whisper.

“Nothing, you’re just very...intriguing.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Most definitely.” She smiled.

Then she moved closer and lifted her hand to push a few strands of hair behind your ear.

You held your breath as she did this.

It was such a gentle thing for her to do, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

“You were born to do this, y/n. You both were. This is your destiny. You got this.”

You nodded, biting your lip gently and you caught Izzy’s eyes flickering down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. It was only for a brief moment, but you had seen her and she knew you did too.

“Now, if you don’t want to get your memories back, that’s your choice and something you deserve to have because it’s one of the few things you have left. But we should still be there for Clary, in case she needs it.”

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Are you sure?”

Jace asked as everyone looked at you.

After your conversation with Izzy, you had agreed that you would support Clary in her decision to meet the Silent Brothers but you wouldn’t relent on your own. You would be there for her but you weren’t going to recover your own memories.

So you were all currently outside the City of Bones, where Izzy and Alec had agreed to keep watch and look after Simon whilst Jace and Clary would go inside.

“Yes. I’ll stay here.”

Though you hesitated for a moment, you quickly brought your sister in for a hug. Scared of what could happen if things didn’t go well.

“Be safe.”

“I will.” Clary whispered fiercely, holding you tight in her arms. When she pulled away, she smiled gently, “I’m sorry for trying to force you do this.”

“It’s okay, I get it. Go get Mum back.” You reciprocated her smile, gesturing for her to enter.

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Woah, what happened?” Alec asked when Clary and Jace came running out of the dungeon, tears running down Clary’s face.

You quickly approached her and held onto her arms.

“What happened, Ry?”

“V-Valentine. H-He”

You looked at Jace in alarm, Clary wasn’t making any sense and you were beginning to worry.

“Valentine’s her father.”

Though you gasped, you weren’t entirely shocked. You had had a feeling that this was more connected to Clary than you.

Alec then began to scold Jace about Clary’s true intentions, making you lash out at him for the first time.

Since you had both arrived, Alec had been the most unwelcoming, and whilst you did understand his wariness, you didn’t appreciate him acting as if the two of you were as malicious as Clary’s father.

“Wait, where’s Simon? Where’s Izzy?” Clary interrupted, just now realising that they weren’t here.

You were about to explain how Simon had forgotten his phone in the van and how Izzy had decided to accompany him when the latter came running towards you all.

“He’s gone. I just left him for a minute because I heard something but when I came back, he was gone.”

You and Clary began to freak out and started to run in the direction she came from, calling for Simon.

“Is that the mundane’s name?”

You all turned around, looking up at the bridge and what you saw had your heart dropping to your stomach. Simon was being held upside down over a bridge, threateningly close to being dropped and falling to the ground.

“The mundane, unharmed, in exchange for the Mortal Cup. Tick-Tock, people.”

The pale man shouted before disappearing with Simon and another woman. Simon’s scream for help lingered as you looked at Clary and saw the same horror on her face that you were sure was on yours.

“Who the fuck was that?” You asked, looking at Izzy.

“Those were vampires.”

Dead Man’s Party ->

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kissofthespring · 3 years

Text

Title: Missing

Paring: Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem!Reader

genre: smut. & they were roommates.

Word count: 3.7k

warnings: degradation, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), choking, fingering, unprotected sex, praising, panty's stolen. (reader's), reader has a nickname. California!Iwaizumi. Time Skip.

@allieverwantedisadaddy asked:

Hii lovely 😘 how was yo day I was wondering if I could get 49 with iwaizumi from the nsfw list ?? Hope you have a wonderful week love 😚😘

::(more) nsfw/smut prompts

49. "I've been missing these panties for weeks, tell me why I just found them in your drawer."

100 Smut Dialogue Prompts

49) “You look so good on your knees like that.”

I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I did both.

You were running late. Your first interview with this big firm and you couldn't find your lucky underwear. It was just one of those things; you had to have them. You took a deep breath and searched your drawer once more. Nope, the black lace and powder blue cotton panties were missing. A nagging thought enters your mind, and you realize it might be in your roommate's things. You had washed and separated the laundry, but maybe a pair had slipped in. You wouldn't be surprised; you had gotten a shirt before in the mix-up.

You crept down the hallway and peaked your head into your roommate's bedroom. Meticulous and clean, you felt lucky, to be honest, you heard the horror stories of sharing an apartment with a man, but Iwaizumi Hajime had been a dream roommate so far. You stopped sneaking the moment you realized he wasn't home. His bed was made, and the only mess you saw was his apparent rush to get up and go to class this morning. A small pile of nightclothes, which you realized was just a pair of boxers. Pressing your fingers to your face quickly, you realized you were snooping too much and went for his chest of drawers.

The black oak creaked as you opened the first drawer, good guess! His boxers were just sort of tossed in there. Oh, it felt wrong to look in here. You decided to be a s quick as possible in your search. At the bottom of the drawer was the exact pair of underwear you were searching for. Oh god! Did he even know they were here! Grabbing them, you quickly lifted your pencil skirt and pulled the panties on. There, that felt better. Fixing yourself quickly, you closed the drawer and left the room; hopefully, you'd leave him none the wiser to your escapade in his private space.

As you grab a piece of toast, you reflect on your luck in the roommate department. UC Irvine was the place to be if you were a Business Major, and you were close. A Business Law Major, you had picked up your 1994 Acura Integra and your favorite things and moved from San Francisco with your scholarship and a little bit of money you saved from working over the summer. While proud of you, your parents thought that closer to home would be better, but they seemed to calm down, especially after you moved in with Iwaizumi. They thought he was a great influence on you. An international student, handsome, and hardworking, the perfect role model even though you were the same age. You had answered his ad on the bulletin board on your first day, and the rest was history. A year and a half later, things were going great. You didn't regret a single minute of it.

Sure, there was that one time when he hooked up with your ex-best friend who was visiting you from college, Rhiannon, but you couldn't blame him; you were all drunk that night, and you had made out with the ultra-hot guy on the swim team. Not after he apologized to you for being loud, and then she complained that he got her off but didn't get off himself. It felt like she was bragging, and of course, when you learned that she only hooked up with him because you couldn't, it pissed you off. So you told Iwaizumi, he had promptly smirked then said, it was a one-time thing and would never happen again anyway.

Still, you did see the kind of girls he brought home. Bombshells, with designer money. He had a type, and you thought that you didn't fit that at all. Slipping into your car, you quickly sent Iwaizumi a text message,

[text: best roommate] Hey, when you get home, we have to talk.

You were walking in the door when you heard Hajime swear from his room. "Iwaizumi! I'm home!" You caught the tail end of his conversation, "Fuck off Trashykawa! I swear to god!" He leaned his head out of his room, a grin on his lips. "Hey, Tsubaki-chan." You blush, the nickname he's given you stuck over time, and you can't help it. Rubbing your right heel in your left hand, you wince a bit. "You wanted to talk? How did your interview go?" He's pulling on a shirt, and his hair is wet; he must have just got off the phone with his friend after his shower. You meet in the middle on the couch. "I was just curious." You said as you rubbed your feet, Hajime sat next to you and reached for your foot, pressing his thumb against the arch in a way that made you wiggle a bit. "So, I know we both do the laundry around here, and it just happens, but I was searching for this pair of panties for like weeks, and I finally found them in your drawer." His eyes widen, and he pauses his gentle massaging of your feet.

"When I did the laundry last," He muttered, finally meeting your eyes; his deep gaze made you lose your breath for a moment, "I meant to give them back to you, but... You had that guy over, and I didn't want to interrupt. I forgot. Sorry, Tsubaki." He continues massaging your feet, turning his head away from you. Grinning, you stretched and shrug, "You wouldn't have interrupted anything anyways..." You found yourself unable to finish the sentence, not with the way his hands worked your feet.

There was a knot in your stomach; there was a tension of something unspoken between the two of you; just when you were about to make a move, his phone went off, "Mattsun! Hey, isn't it super early over there." As he slipped into his mother tongue and moved away from you, you collapsed against the couch with a sigh. Oh, that was close! Would things change if you two were to hook up? Fuck yeah, you couldn't be that dumb to ruin such a good thing. Could you forget the feeling of his half-hard cock against your leg, though? Probably not. You ran a hand through your hair and went to your room to change your clothes, settling on your sleep shorts and a UC Irvine tank top.

You were working on dinner in your tiny kitchen for the two of you, humming as you tossed the pasta in the meat sauce. Iwaizumi was leaning in the doorway, watching as you cooked. He took a step toward you and reached for the spoon that you were stirring the sauce with, "Can I have a bite?" The deep voice by your side startled you for a moment; you rose the spoon up to him, waiting for him to take a bite. As he did, you grinned, "Good, huh? I added a bit of sugar to the sauce." He hummed under his breath before nodding. "It's not half bad." You elbow his ribs, and he playfully winces, "I mean, It's great, Tsubaki." He steps away and sets the table for the two of you. As you two settle down and eat, he finally asks, "So, what happened to that guy?"

"He didn't get me off."

It made your stomach drop to say that, but Iwaizumi's gaze didn't leave yours. "Then he's not worth it. Why do you go out with such shit, guys?"

"Why do you sleep with my friends?"

"Touché."

You look up at him, biting your lip gently, "Maybe, we should just not date unless we both like the person..." He laughed before raising his beer to his lips. "Maybe... Wanna watch a movie? Celebrate your interview?" You nodded as you finished dinner and placed the plate in the sink. You'd get to it later. As you both settled in and clicked on a random movie, you both sunk into the couch, you pressed against one corner and him against the other. You with your wine glass and him with his favorite popcorn, it was a comfort thing. The horror of the film made you both curl up to the middle of the couch after a while. One well-placed jump scare made you move from your seat and straddle Iwaizumi's lap. His bowl of popcorn was set on the side of him; his arms wrap around you, holding you closely, your head buried into his neck. "I'm sorry, it just scared me." The deep rumble of his voice made your heart speed up in your chest, "It's okay, Tsubaki-chan." Iwaizumi's warm hand smoothed over your back, and you relaxed against his chest, gently realizing just how warm he was. He pulled you closer, shifting your weight a little bit so that you could lean against him better.

"Is this better?"

You nod, biting your lip as his hand settled on the small of your back. You realized that you were straddling his lap in very little clothing. The angle of your body did very little to keep your chest from being pressed against his chest. Your hands pressed against his shoulders, you hear a moan behind you, and the two of you turn your attention to the TV. A love scene is playing; the main character, while in the middle of a horror movie, finally gets with his lover. The arms around you tighten a bit, your hips shift, and you hear a strangled noise in his throat. Something he tries to hold back. Oh, your hips now pressed against the growing tent in his pants. You're about to pull away when his hands tighten on your sides. Your eyes shift, meeting his; Iwaizumi's gaze is dark, his pupils blown, and his breath gives him away.

"Hajime..."

The moment his name leaves your lips, you realize just how much your mouth is watering. Hearing his first name on your lips seems to set off a switch with him; he crushes his mouth to yours, stealing the air from your lungs. He presses your chest to his, your breasts smash against his pectoral muscles, holding your hips against his. You can feel his fingers on your back through your shirt, they were going to leave bruises, but you didn't care.

When you started to feel dizzy, he broke the kiss taking a deep breath as he did so. You could feel every inch of Iwaizumi's body pressed against your own. The angle of your hips against his erection has him pressing a hand against the small of your back, glancing up into your eyes. His eyes are almost sheepish, but there's something else there. Something that makes you grind your hips against his. "Tsubaki, I want you. I have for a while now and this- Do you want this?"

"Fuck..."

The word leaving your lips as his brow furrowed in confusion, as he takes in your expression, "Look at you, asking for consent. Fuck me, Hajime. I want you too." His eyes widen, and he lifts you in his arms before tossing you over his shoulder. "I'm going to fuck you so good, you forget all about the stupid little boy who couldn't make you cum, Tsubaki." His hand slaps against your ass as he carries you into his room.

Your hands grasp at his back, trying to get him to set you back down, but it's the grey sheets of his bed meeting your legs that made you shiver. He looks so broad and big above you, standing at the edge of the bed. His chest is heaving as he tries to pull air into his lungs. His eyes flicker from your face to the rest of your body against his bed. "Fuck, Tsubaki... I'm going to ruin you."

"Don't just say it, Iwaizumi, do it."

His features changed, his gaze darkened, and the hand that was reaching for your leg stopped. The way he looked at you made your stomach clench in fear. Iwaizumi moves to climb on the bed, pressing his full body against yours for a moment. He fixes his knee against your dripping core. He presses against your sleep shorts and whispers, "Don't be a brat. I can roll away from you right now and fuck my fist instead, little one." The nickname makes you moan, and you reach for his shoulders, "Don't... Tease..."

His smirk grows on soft lips, and he presses his knee a bit harder against you. "Strip for me. Then we'll see what we can do." For incentive, he reached down and tugged his shirt off in one swift movement. His muscles were rippling as he did so, made your knees weak. You reached out to stroke his biceps, and he moved out of your reach, "Tsubaki, strip now." The commanding tone made a chill roll down your spine. You sat up a bit and tugged off your tank top. The blue material floated to the floor, leaving your chest bare to his eyes.

Iwaizumi sucked in a breath, licking his bottom lip with a laugh. "God, your beautiful." He moved a hand to reach for one of your breasts before popping the nipple into his mouth. You arched toward his touch, a gasp escaping your lips, "Haji-" He rolled the nipple with two fingers before moving to whisper in your ear, "Get on your knees, Tsubaki. I want to fuck your mouth."

You climb off the bed and kneel before Iwaizumi. His hand brushes against your hair before reaching down and lifting your chin. “You look so good on your knees like that.” His thumb brushes against your lips and presses against the seam of them gently. You part your lips as he presses his thumb inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around it for a moment. He pushes his thumb against your tongue and roughly pulls you up a little bit. "Baby, baby, baby, you're so sexy down there." One moment, he was your roommate, and the next, you're kneeling before him half-naked on the floor. What a switch this was! But you couldn't bring yourself to mind it. It's the look in his eyes. The dark way he takes you in. He pushes his basketball shorts off his hips, his cock springing free. Your eyes widen as you finally see it. You can't help the saliva that pools in your mouth at the sight.

Iwaizumi's cock bounces up and hits his belly button. You try to sit back on your heels as you reach for it. Your thumb runs along the vein along the underside of his cock; it’s long and girthy. You could estimate the size, but you decided to just try to suck on him instead. You glance upward under your lashes, and he's smirking down at you, a soft red blush darting across the apples of his cheeks. With his golden skin, it looks beautiful. You kitten lick the head of his cock, drawing a soft sound from the man above you. You swallow as much of him as you can down your throat.

It doesn't surprise you that you can't take him all the way. You glance up at him as he pushes your hair out of your face and then rests his hand on the top of your head, "Relax, Tsubaki-chan. Relax your throat, so I can fuck it easier." It's then his hips buck upward into your mouth. You reach out to grip his thighs, nails digging in. Tears cloud your vision for a moment; oh, this shouldn't feel as good as it does. You still can't get him all the way down your throat, but you realize that's okay. Your hands make up for it, stroking him, using your spit as lubrication. One hand cups his balls, and he tugs you away from his cock by your hair.

The movement is rough, but he's looking down at you, tears rolling down your cheeks from when he touched the back of your throat. There's a moan that escapes his lips, and he grins. "What a good little slut you are. Still reaching for my cock, gasping from how much you fit into that little mouth of yours. What a good little whore. How wet are you, Tsubaki-chan? Do you want more of Daddy's cock?"

The words alone are making you shake. You lick your lips before reaching upward to brush the wrist of the hand that's currently in your hair, "Please, please, daddy." His eyes roll backward before he moves his hand from your hair to your throat suddenly. "Is this okay? Can I do this?" Iwaizumi asks for consent before he does anything. It makes your heart soft for him. Your press his hand against your throat more, "Please, Daddy. Do what you want."

Iwaizumi drags you close to his body by your throat, "Fuck, Tsubaki-chan... What I want is to squeeze just a bit more. What I want is to fuck you into the mattress. What I want is to mold that cunt of yours into the shape of my cock." He reaches down and strokes your slit with his big fingers. You feel yourself getting wetter from his words alone. He presses one finger inside, curling it gently toward your g-spot as he did so. "So pretty. So fucking pretty." He whispers as he fingers you slowly. Another finger is added, and he scissors them inside of you to get you ready for his girth. Your hips buck, and a whine escapes your throat when a third finger is added. "Sweet, sweet girl." He whispers against your temple. "Let go for me."

There's a coil of white-hot pleasure that's building behind your eyes. This feels so good. Too good. You buck against Iwaizumi’s hands, reaching for his wrist to try to pull him toward you more. His thumb brushes against your neglected clit, the bundle of nerves makes your back arch, your right at the edge of orgasm. His voice is what brings you over. "Cum for me, Tsubaki-chan. Cum for me."

You shake as you orgasm harder than you had in a long time. White floods your vision, and you curl away from the intense feeling of it. Iwaizumi doesn't let you. He quickly lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside of you. There's a whimper that escapes your lips and a growl of fuck that escapes his as he presses his chest to your back, pressing a kiss to your spine. "You feel so good." You clutch the sheets below you as your body adjusts from the orgasm to the intrusion. The oversensitivity of it alone makes you moan softly. You press your face against his pillow, rutting your hips back against his. "Please, please... Daddy."

He groans, feeling your walls flutter around him. He's bottomed out entirely inside of you and just waits for your body to adjust to him. "Are you creaming on me already, Tsubaki-chan?" Vulgar words leave his lips, and you can't stop the moan that escapes your throat. Tears cloud your vision once again; he’s not wrong. You have climaxed again around his cock. He slides a hand up your front, lifting you until your back is flush against his chest. He nips at your ear before whispering, "Say something, sweet girl. I can feel the way your body is reacting; you were so stubborn before, say something."

"Harder, Hajime. Fuck me harder."

His hand leaves your breast to tighten around your throat, his teeth nipping at your neck as he ruts into you. The angle is rough, and he almost regrets taking you for the first time in this manner, but you back your hips up against him more. You want this. You need this. It takes his breath away as you flutter around him. So close to that glorious orgasm, you start shaking. His balls slap against your clit from the angle and your whine. You’re about to reach down to play with it, but he beats you there. The hand on your hip previously finds its way to your clit; he presses his middle finger against it rubbing slow and methodical circles around it. He gets faster as your gasps grow. You tighten around him, and you feel the change in the angle of his hips. Canted in such a way that his cockhead brushes against your cervix. Tears roll down your cheeks, and you scream as you cum. He tried to cover your mouth with his hand as he pushes you through your orgasm.

He was going to try to hold his own back, but your body trembling beneath him brings him to his orgasm. He cums inside of you, lips sucking hickey's into your neck as he does so. His chest is heaving against your back as he curls his body into yours. Your weight is unable to be held up any longer, and you land on your side; he follows suit, still semi-hard inside of you. He reaches for your face and turns you toward him, "Tsubaki-chan... Do you want to keep going?"

You nod once, "A little later, Hajime... Fuck. No one's ever..." His chin pressed against your shoulder. "I don't think anyone's made me cum like that before." There's a chuckle that escapes his lips before he presses his mouth to yours gently. "I didn't know I had a thing for being called Daddy until it left your lips. Do you need anything? Water, clean up?" He starts to move, but you reach for his arm, "Iwa, wait. Stay here, I just. I just need this. Hold me for a little bit." He chuckles before wrapping his arms around you and then softly whispers. "We're going to have to move your stuff or my stuff into one room."

"Are you saying that you don't want this to be a one-time thing?"

"I want to keep fucking you, so no. I don't want it to be a one-time thing, but we don't have to label it yet."

"Good, cause one fuck doesn't mean we're dating."

He laughs before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "No, I'd say three fucks, at least."

You laugh along with him, the tension leaving your body, "Maybe four..."

"I think we can do that tonight..."

"We'll see, Hajime. We'll see."

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #my writing

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

Text

I’m not your princess

I got like four requests for Jealous Sero so while this is smutty, not as jealous as It could have been.

Sero x Reader

Word count: 3,100 (about)

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, Smut

Summary: Sero Hanta has done It again! and by it, I mean accidentally fallen ass-backward into love and by again I mean this first time something like this has ever happened to him and he has no clue what he is doing please help.

Sero wasn’t sure how he found himself here, mouthing at your neck and fumbling wit the top of your dress with one hand. Yesterday, he had just been your best friend now you were moaning his name and bucking your hips against his thigh.

“Sero, Don’t stop please,” you breathed shakily, Sero obliged, digging his teeth into your soft skin earning him a shaky moan as your hips increased speed, dragging your wet panties along his muscular leg.

“Who knew you had such a biting kink?” He chuckled lightly kissing the dark hickey he had just left. Normally you would snark back but you just jerked his head up planting his mouth on yours. He slipped his tongue past your lips and pushed your dress down revealing more of your body to him.

Sero had known something was wrong when you came to him in a blind panic only explaining that you had “fucked up and needed him to help fix it,”

“can you calm the fuck down?” He asked grabbing your shoulders to keep you from pacing. you took a deep breath and spoke

“So I lied to my coworkers and told them I had a boyfriend and I told them I would bring him to the next work party we have but I don’t have a boyfriend and-” Sero cut you off before you could ramble.

“So I’ll go with you,” He decided, realizing where this conversation was going.

“Really? I didn’t expect you to cave so quickly,”

“So what? I would be your fake boyfriend for the night? That’s not so bad,” he shrugged, considering the idea

“or like for a week before we have a big dramatic brake up,” you amended. He thought about it and sighed.

“Sounds like fun,” he agreed. It would be just like any other Gala the two of you would spend the night complaining about the fancy clothes and plotting your escape at the first opportunity to grab Taco Bell.

except, everyone would assume the two of you were together, But Sero could deal with that. At least he thought he could.

You were stunning in your slinky red satin dress. He had never seen a dress show so much of your back, legs, and chest all at the same time, while the ruffling fabric didn’t exactly cling to your curves, it did nothing to hide them.

“quit staring you perve,” you snapped hitting his shoulder snapping him out of his own head. he smiled and flicked your forehead in retaliation.

“As your fake boyfriend, I think I’m entitled to stare a little,” he teased slinging his arm around your waist and lead you to the waiting car and sliding in the back seat with you. you gave him a soft look, one that sent butterflies threw his stomach.

“Really Sero, thank you for doing this,” you said, Sero hated when you went soft on him like this, you were already stunning how was he supposed you handle you being so cute?

“It’s not a big deal- but you are definitely paying for dinner tonight, I mean look at you I’ll spend half the damn party keeping guys off of you,” he joked. you rolled your eyes and shoved him away from you.

“who do you think I am? I don’t need my boyfriend, fake or otherwise, to save me from anyone!” you protested

“yeah but you like getting saved cus you’re a spoiled little princess-”

“Princess? oh I’ll show you whose a princess!”

Of all the fights the two of you had gotten into, this one was by far the most complicated. The back seat of a town car didn’t provide for much mobility, and neither did the fancy clothes you were wearing,

Sero had to be careful not to smudge your makeup and not undo the bowtie he had spent a good hour learning how to tie, while you worked hard not to let anything fall out of the skimpy dress you decided on wearing. In the end, Sero gave up letting you win.

“Just wait until we get home Hanta and I’ll kick your ass for real,” you threatened, before getting distracted by a notification on your phone. Sero couldn’t help but smile a little. He was so completely whipped for you it wasn’t even funny. He loved how cute you looked when you were mad, He loved how you only got angrier when he let you win, he loved that you didn’t need to separate the idea of his home and yours. Sero knew that it was a bad idea to fall for your friends but he couldn’t help himself.

He almost forgot that he was pretending to be your boyfriend by the time the car pulled to the stop outside of the venue. but then you slid over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“remember you’re in love with me,” you mumbled as he opened the car door and helped you out, the dizzying flash of cameras all around you.

“I’m In love with you,” he confirmed, hoping you would read into the words and see just how much he meant it. His hand fell to your waist pulling you close and you teasingly waved to the cameras as he walked you down the red carpet. Posing for pictures had always been his least favorite part of going pro, there wasn’t a part of him that could be described as graceful, but you seemed to be taking it in stride, he put his gaze on your lovely form and let a love stuck kind of smile appear on his face, charmingly goofy was his schtick and he would stick to it. hopefully the cameras would follow his lead and focus on you.

Once you were inside, things weren’t much better once you were inside the ballroom however. This was a work party for your agency, meaning he knew no one there but you. He felt a nervous pit of awkwardness form in his stoumach. He would have to prepare himself for a tense night of introductions and lame work stories. He dropped his arm but didn’t move from your side, you were his lone lifeline in this sea of strangers.

“you amaze me, I mean you can chase killers no problems but a room full of strangers turns you into a coward?” you teased elbowing him in the side, he just rolled his eyes

“at least I’m not afraid of spiders,” he teased back, snagging a flute of champagne off of a nearby tray.

“well my coworkers don’t bite, I cannot say the same for the eight-legged bastards,” you pointed out grabbing your own glass. you held your drink aloft and he mimicked you

“Heres to getting out of here as soon as possible,” you proclaimed

“To getting out of here!” the two of your clicked glasses and took a small drink, sealing the toast.

“Right, Heres the plan: we say hi to everyone, listen to the award announcements then leave before they open up the dancefloor,” you decided, already dragging him to the first group of heroes. True to your word, none of your colleges bit him, but several of them recognized him. Sero had to admit, that stroked his ego quite a bit. overall, the conversations were quick but pleasant. He almost had a good time joking with and drinking champagne with strangers. It didn’t hurt that you spent the night clinging to his arm and bragging about what a great boyfriend he was, everyone seemed to buy it. Sero liked pretending like this, even if it would only be for tonight.

So as the two approached the last group you had to greet, Sero was in high spirits. His first mistake. the group consisted of two women and one man, you seemed reluctant to great them, but you must have been getting tired, he didn’t blame you.

The man, Naoki Jin, was bubbly, and a little too eggar to drag both of you into a needlessly long conversation. Jin also kept taking every opportunity to touch you, brushing his hand against your wrist to draw your attention, letting his fingers linger when he handed you a new champagne flute. Sero was pissed, to say the least, both as your best friend who secretly loved you and as your fake boyfriend. Who did he think he was, flirting with you while he was right there.

Sero watched as your face grew redder as the flirting became more obvious. Sero had never liked it when other guys hit on you, but this was worse somehow. This slimeball was a part of your day to day life, saw more often then Sero ever would.

Sero pushed you subtly behind him, letting you cling to his arm shyly. while you were normally loud and rambunctious, you always got quiet and nervous when you were a little buzzed.

“can you stop hitting on my girlfriend?” Sero sighed, His word lacked all bite, the word girlfriend fumbling awkwardly off his lips. Jin smirked and tried to hook a finger under your chin, but missed snagging nothing but air.

“Awe she doesn’t mind, do you Cutie?” he slurred, clearly a little drunk himself. you recoiled, hiding behind Sero.

“besides I could show you a way better time than this jackass,” Jin laughed before turning his attention to Sero.

“I mean, no offense my man but if I had such a hot piece of ass on my arm all night I would have taken her home by now, you haven’t even kissed her, what kind of man are you?” he joked poking Sero in the shoulder roughly.

“Just because I’m not making out with her 24/7 doesn-” Sero tried but Jin clearly wasn’t buying it

“well if you’re really with her just kiss her,” Jin pushed. Sero could feel his face flush and opened his mouth to keep protesting but he was muffled by a pair of ruby lips melding against his. He almost choked, If he was being honest, he had sort of forgotten that you were hiding behind him.

your lips were so soft and warm, Sero had imagined them countless times, but the real thing was infinitely better. You tasted like mint and alcohol and you were kissing him so passionately he almost forgot that you weren’t really his girlfriend. Still, he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace slightly. He enjoyed the kiss for the short time it lasted. When you did pull away he had to stop himself from diving back into kiss you again.

“geese now I have wash my face,” Sero scoffed trying to sound casual. He shot jin a death glare and carefully maneuvered you away. you quietly handed him wipe from your purse letting him scrub away the red mark you had left on his mouth.

“I’m sorry Sero I don’t know what I was thinking-” he turned to look at you and saw you were close to tears. He quickly moved to comfort you, cupping your cheek and shushing you quietly.

“oh come on don’t cry, it’s okay,” he whispered to no avail, thick beads of water gathered in the corners of your eyes before spilling over onto your cheeks. the tears quickly turned black as they caught your mascara.

“You know this is a real emergency,” he sighed, switching into a playful tone of voice “and as the 15th highest ranked hero It is my job to rescue you,” he teased. you sniffled looking up at him, almost like you were waiting for him to save you. He started pulling you towards the exit not caring that you were leaving embarrassingly early.

“let's get the hell out of here and get some tacos,” he joked sneakily pulling you out of the back door.

The two of you did your best to sneak out, avoiding photographers to the best of your abilities but the combination of alcohol and your heels made it difficult to walk in a straight line, let alone walk stealthily, but somehow the two of you managed to slink into the waiting car.

Sero rubbed his palms over your arms smoothing over the goosebumps that had formed.

“Better?” he asked, you nodded and wiped away the last of your tears.

“You really aren’t mad?” you asked again,

“Nah why would I be mad? I got to kiss a beautiful girl,” he teased elbowing you in the side. The car was dark, and he couldn’t make out all your features, but he could clearly see the blush that spread across your face.

“Then, would you mind it if I kissed you again?” you mumbled fumbling with your fingers. Sero wasn’t sure what emotion he was supposed to feel when the love of his life asked to kiss him. But he was overcome by a sense of calm as he leaned in, cupping your face and guiding your crimson lips back to his.

Now here he was, crashing threw his apartment, kissing you, and cupping your tits. You gripped his shoulders tightly, moaning as he sucked your collarbone.

“imma make you feel so good baby,” he groaned pulling on your nipple before kissing the globes of your breasts. you wiggled beneath him, trying and failing to unzip the red dress that only seemed to hinder your movements. you were impatient to be naked, all too eager for Sero to have his way with you.

“H-Hanta dress,” you whimpered

“you want it off sweetheart?” He asked flicking his dark eyes up at yours. you bit your lip and nodded. In a flash the garment was discarded.

“no bra? that's a bold move,” He laughed examining your bare chest.

“S-Shut Up the dress wasn’t made for a bra,” you defended weakly, crossing your arms over your chest, hiding your breasts from view.

“Come on baby Don’t hide,” Sero groaned lowly running his hands down from your ribcage to your hips feeling your warm skin under his hands.

“I’m sorry for teasing, let me make it up to you, yeah?” he asked and hooked his hands under your knees spreading your legs. He could see the damp patch forming on your underwear as he stared at your thinly valid crotch.

“Can I eat you out?” he asked, biting the inside of your thighs making you jerk, your legs clamping around his head.

“yes, p-please,” you whimpered shamelessly. Sero pushed your panties to the side, running his tongue over your lips before nuzzling deeper into your folds pushing his tongue inside of you. His strong hands pushed your thighs apart keeping you from locking your legs around his head. instead, you settled for raking your fingers through his thick black hair pulling him into place.

You moaned his name as you rolled your hips against his face. Sero took it stride, matching your pace. Sero dug further into your pussy with his tongue, eggar to devour you. You looked so beautiful dissolving in pleasure beneath him, He had imagined you like this countless times but none of his perverted fantasies held a candle to the real thing.

Sero sat back on his knees, whipping your cum off oh his mouth with the back of his hand. you jerked up and started working off his suit jacket before tugging on his tie. He snorted and moved to help you take off his shirt.

“awe is someone feeling needy, Princess?” he teased, you playfully socked him in the shoulder

“I’m going to kick your ass Sero,” you scowled

“fine, but can we at least fuck first?” asked pulling you close. you straddled his lap and undid his belt slowly, a drastic change from need wich you had ripped off all his other clothes.

“I’ll consider it,” you teased running your hands over his lap feeling his har cock strain against his silky trousers. Sero bit his lower lip his thighs shuddering as you stroked him.

“you trying to make cum in my pants princess?” he asked gripping both of your wrists harshly stopping your motion. you smirked

“Dunno I think that would be kinda funny don’t you?” you asked. Sero rolled his eyes and tossed you off of his lap on to the bed. You stripped off your remaining article of clothing as he jerked his own pants off.

“you really need to shut up,” he muttered spreading your legs again, you kissed his neck smearing your red lipstick across his skin. there was something beautiful about the streak of color, you smiled against his skin already deciding to mark his entire skin like that.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sero asked nervously.

“Yes, I want you Sero,” you confirmed pulling him closer and kissing him gently. he teased your folds with the head of his cock before pushing into you.

“f-fuck,” he hissed feeling your tight walls fluttering around him. He focused on his breathing you focused on his jaw, leaving red kiss marks on his skin. “I’m going to move now,” he purred, slowly regaining his confidence, as his hips drew back.

“You’ve got such a good cunt Princess, you’re squeezing my cock so nicely,” he praised, instantly your face flushed and you couldn’t help but tighten around him as he bucked his length in and out of you, a fact Sero didn’t miss.

“you like that huh? Princess has a praise kink?” he teased.

“S-Shut up,” you yelped, but you were too cute to not tease. a river of dirty talk flowed from Sero’s lips as he fucked into you. how good you felt, how beautiful you were how hard he was going to make you cum.

“Hanta I’m going to cum-” you whimpered sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. he reached down and rubbed your clit making you jerk.

“I’m right there with you baby,” he grunted, his thrusts became more erratic and stilted. your nails raked down his back leaving angry red lines along his back. you called his name a final time as your orgasm crashed through your body, you were still shaking when Sero pulled out his cock, twitching with need. He trailed his hand over his own length, paying close attention to the tip of his length. He was ready to burst and spill his seed over your stoumach when you moved faster than lightning tackling him and almost knocking him off the bed.

“My turn to treat you, Princess,” you purred licking your own wetness off his shaft before swallowing his cock fully. It only took a few bobs of your head for him to come undone in your mouth. You greedily sucked his cock drinking down his seed as it filled your mouth.

“You really are dirty girl huh?” he laughed tugging your hair to get you off. you snickered and shoved his shoulder falling back onto the bed, Sero staid hovering above you for a moment more, enjoying the afterglow that seemed to incase you at that very moment. He wondered if the two of you would just go back to just being friends, now way right? Sero laid beside you and pulled you into his arms, and obviously and purposefully romantic gesture.

Like everything, you took it in stride, pulling his arms tighter around your middle and melting against his chest. It was a comfortable, if not a little messy, embrace.

“We should probably wash up,” you sighed craning your neck to look at him,

“you’re probably right,” He sighed

“Okay here's the plan: we shower, I’ll steal some of your clothes, we get food, watch a movie and maybe go for round two depending and I spend the night,” you proclaimed. Sero couldn’t help but beam,

“Sounds like a plan, Princess,”

#sero #Sero Hanta #sero hanta crack #sero hanta x reader #imagine sero #my hero acadamy #my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter eleven: art whores

After they had had their cups of coffee, and Sam took the honor of checking out of the hotel for herself, she stayed in the passenger seat next to Dan with her shirt off the whole hour long drive up to Boston. He had rolled up his otherwise short sleeves up to his shoulders, and showed off his muscular arms all the while; he also had borrowed a little rubber band from inside of the glove box; his mirrored sunglasses reflected the early morning sunlight the whole entire way up the freeway. Every so often, she took a glimpse behind her to Joey, who had propped his hair over the back of the seat so it would be up off of his neck. He squinted his brown eyes against the amber sunlight and he bowed his head a little bit from the intense glow over the continual skyline of small towns to the right.

“We're gonna swing by another hotel to pick up Frankie,” Dan finally said at one point over the roar of the freeway

“Sounds good!” Sam declared as she gave her dark hair a slight toss back.

They took the next exit off of the freeway into a part of town near the Massachusetts state line: there was in fact a little hotel there and Frank stood under the exposed stone stairwell with his lush dark hair sprawled over his shoulders like the floppy ears of a dog and his mirrored sunglasses upon his face; Sam thought about Joey's old apartment at the very sight of him. He nodded at them and showed her a grin once they rolled up to the parking spot before him.

“Hey, all o' youses,” he greeted them; Joey slid to the seat right behind Dan, and Frank climbed in next to him.

“I like this look, by the way,” he said to Sam.

“I got hot last night,” she explained with a shrug.

Joey muttered something to Frank, which brought a little chuckle out of him.

“What's goin' on back there?” Dan demanded.

“Fuhget about it,” Frank said with a wave of his hand, and he buckled into the other passenger seat.

They rolled out of that spot and doubled back to the freeway for the rest of the way up to Boston.

Sam thought about what Zelda and Belinda had said the night after Cliff died, and she knew she was doing them justice by being in that car with those three men. She was headed for yet another brand new place that she never really knew about before and had only dreamed of in the past. She knew she would have to put her shirt back on at some point, but the feeling the cool coastal breeze on her chest and belly was something she hadn't done before, not even back home in California.

Within time, the skyline emerged under the amber sunlight: Sam spotted a large Cisco sign off in the distance. It seemed like the kind of place that had only cobblestones for streets and had horse carriages all around. When she peered out the window and beyond the freeway, she spotted a few alleyways down below that did in fact have those old earthy faded cobblestones all underneath the lush green oak trees. She wondered if it really was how she believed it to be once Dan took the next exit for the venue, a long low dark building called the Paradise Rock Club, nestled down in the heart of downtown about a block from the freeway: if she didn't know better, Sam swore it was movie theater, especially since the black sign over the front doors read ANTHRAX, TESTAMENT, and special guests THE CHERRY SUICIDES in large white lettering.

“This is also the very first time we're touring here, too,” Dan explained as he rounded the corner to the back alleyway.

“What better way to celebrate than for a couple of dates,” she exclaimed.

“Right?” Joey laughed.

“I guess this place is literally right by the college,” Dan continued, “so we might be seein' a lot of people of your caliber tonight.”

“I hope so,” said Sam. They rolled up to the pale white back door, which hung slightly ajar for them. Once Dan killed the engine, Sam put her top back on and fixed her hair before she climbed out with them. They were alone there, but Frank rounded the back side of the car and joined up with her.

“Can I tell you something?” he started in a soft voice. “This has just been—eating at me for a while now.”

Dan held the door for them, and she and Frank stepped into the cool, dimly lit back hallway first. Joey sauntered past them towards their dressing room, and then Dan followed suit.

“Hey, Joe—wait up—” he called after him, and that left Sam and Frank alone; he took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar, and then he ran a hand over his smooth crown of lush dark hair.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Really hope you don’t get mistaken for a groupie,” he admitted in a soft voice.

She frowned at that. “Why’s that?”

“Because groupies are often seen as whores or just women who sleep around with the band. I don’t want my best friend to be seen like that.”

“They won’t know that, though,” she said, albeit with a nervous feeling in her stomach.

“But that’s always the assumption, though,” Frank insisted. “You can’t stop people from assuming shit about you, even when you know in your heart that it’s not true. Not saying I don’t want you around—not at all. I love the fact you’re going to be with us for most of the summer. But what I am telling you is what you’re about to see when you come along with us more and more. And if you don’t believe me, let me show you what the people have been saying about your girls, the Cherry Suicides. Calling them the ‘n’ word, especially Morgan and Minerva; calling Rosita ‘fake’ because of her nails; calling Zelda a skinny bossy bitch. All kinds of nasty shit. We love and embrace our female fans, but most of our crowds don’t. How have they acted with you and Marla?”

“Like… we’re not even there,” she recalled.

“There you go then. Again, I’m not trying to be ‘that’ guy, but it’s just the truth. If only there was a way I could protect you from it, though.”

“You can always be like, 'hey! Quit pickin' on my friend!' or something like that,” she suggested, but he shrugged his shoulders.

“That's just a worry I've had,” he continued. “Y'know, I see how Joey looks at you, but I just wonder who else out there looks at you and not like that, either. Like you're fresh meat for the taking.” He then lifted his head to the hallway behind her, and she turned and followed his gaze.

“Even when there's duct tape on boots involved,” he said, that time in a louder voice.

Zelda walked up to the door right behind them with Chuck's boots latched onto her feet: the silver duct tape glistened under the low golden lights on the ceiling, still in place after Greg stuck it on with haste and after a few shows under her belt. She had slicked her black hair back with a handful of gel and wore nothing but a stained dark red sports bra and a pair of pearly white gym shorts. Her flat toned stomach already had a layer of sweat all over.

“If I was hot, I would dress like that, too,” said Sam, which brought a laugh out of both of them.

“Nah, I just put my head and body under a hose,” Zelda assured her; she pushed open the door and Sam realized that was the Cherry Suicides' dressing room. “You guys wanna come in?”

“Sure!” said Sam as she followed her inside.

“I gotta get to our room, but I'll poke my head in in a bit,” Frank promised her, and he kept on going to where Joey and Dan had run off to. Sam stood in the doorway for a second and she took in a whiff of the fresh incense in that little room. A vanity mirror stood on the left wall, as well as a small desk and a pair of accompanying chairs: Rosita's hats stood on a small rack on the wall opposite the door, and a long, shabby lumpy couch and a coffee table with a pitcher of water and a little wooden plate of smoldering incense right near the right wall. Zelda fixed her bra and she glanced down at the stains with a wrinkle to her nose.

“Does this thing make me look like I spilled ketchup all over myself?” she asked Sam.

“Sorta.”

“Damn it. It's supposed to be fake blood—I was gonna put some on my shorts once we get closer to show time, too. We're trying to hone in a more gory image for ourselves. You know, something to make people take us a bit more seriously. We have the songs, we just need the image. You thirsty? I'm dyin' of thirst—”

Zelda then reached for a stack of paper cups on the other side of the table and took two out, one for herself and one for Sam. She poured them both some of that icy water from the pitcher and then she raised it for a toast. They both drank it down in unison.

“Frankie was just telling me about groupies and all the nonsense you girls put up with,” Sam explained as she stepped inside more.

“Oh, yeah, we knew right away that was gonna happen with us,” Zelda pointed out as she poured herself a second cup. “We just demand more from the people who claim to support us.”

“I think it's a little harsh, though,” Sam confessed.

“Absolutely!” Zelda brought the cup to her mouth and guzzled it down. “Like I remember it kinda got to me at first, but I'm a Rhode Island chick who's not a rich snob. I look up to Wendy O. Williams, Lita Ford, and Bessie Smith, and also Peter Murphy, Henry Rollins, and Iggy Pop. I gotta be tougher than toenails, so it's part of the shit sandwich we eat. In fact—you heard this from me—that's a song Rose wrote just the other day. Called 'Shit Sandwich.'”

“Is it gonna be on your new album?” Sam chuckled. “We'll see.” Zelda poured herself a third helping of ice water and then she set the pitcher back down on the coffee table and took her seat on the couch. “We have to talk to Aurora some more, and then hopefully—it's the hope, anyways—we'll be knocking on Jonny Z's door soon.” She took a small sip from the cup and crossed her right leg over her left knee. “That's how Testament did it.”

“Do you guys have a manager at all?”

“Who, us? You're looking at her.” Zelda flashed her a wink, and then she stopped in her tracks, and a grin crossed her face. “Why? You wanna do our dirty deeds for us?”

“I'd have to do it plus school, though,” said Sam, to which Zelda shook her head.

“It's not hard—you just have to pick up the phone and shake hands with people. You gotta have a tough skin to do it, too—I mean, you saw us struggle.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” They fell into silence for a moment, and then Sam spoke again.

“How do you cope with it?”

“What, the struggle?” Zelda asked her once she took another sip.

“Yeah.”

“I usually like to poke fun at it. And the three of them do, too—like I said, Rosita wrote a song a few days ago about it called 'Shit Sandwich.' That's just our sense of humor: to be dark and bleak but not over the top with it. We make fun of the struggle because we're part of it.”

“You know, Aurora and I formed a bit of a duo called the 'art vixens'.”

“The art vixens?” Zelda smirked at that.

“Yeah, 'cause she thinks Joey has his eye on me and now she's married to Emile. We're like the vixens now.”

“It's funny, before the wedding, like back when you guys were shopping for dresses, I actually got to talking to Belinda and she told me she liked our name. And I was like, 'thank you, that's real cool of you.' 'Cause our name is very love it or hate it, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“I told her it's akin to a woman stabbing herself in the chest, or a virgin sacrificing herself. And then she made a joke about cherries after that, and I started callin' her Miss Cherry 'cause of it.”

“So the cherries and the vixens,” Sam said.

“Together, we can be the 'art whores'!” Zelda declared.

“The art whores?” Sam burst out laughing.

“Yeah!” Zelda laughed along with her. “Yeah—you, me, Aurora, and Bel. You and Aurora are the vixens. Bel and I will be the cherries. The four of us collectively are the art whores.”

She drank down the rest from the cup, and then Sam helped herself to some more.

“I gotta get you to hang out with Testament more,” Zelda told her in a low voice.

“I partied with them over New Year's,” Sam recalled.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, when they were preparing to record upstate. I got to join them all the way 'til midnight.”

“You gotta do it more, though. Even though Louie and I are broken up, they are literally the coolest dudes. Chuck and Eric are especially nice to Minerva and Morgan, mainly 'cause they're Hispanic boys and they're a couple of black girls, but they're our neighbors, though. I mean, Chuck lent me his boots for god's sake. And another case in point is Louie is still a really good friend to me. He'll call me once in a while and ask me how things are doing. He called me over Christmas and on my birthday. We just—can't really be a couple is all.” Her face fell a little bit upon saying that but she shrugged it off.

“Even Alex?” Sam asked her as she knitted her eyebrows together and took another sip of water.

“Alex is kinda standoffish—and skittish even—I mean, you saw the way he acted towards me when you ladies were shoppin' for dresses—but it's only because he's still breaking in his shoes. I mean, he graduated high school not even a year ago. Graduated and now he's on a lengthy tour with us and the five dicks from Manhattan—well, four of them are, anyways, unless Joey has another place that we don't know about. But he's a good kid, though, Sam. I promise you.” She paused for a second. “I think he's talked about you a little bit. I think—I haven't heard full conversations, but I have heard him mention you a bit before.”

“Who, Alex?”

“Yeah, he calls you 'Cliff's girl.' You know, 'cause you and Cliff were together. But like I said, I never really paid much attention to it so I only ever hear him mention you by the fact you're Cliff's girl.” And then the smirk returned to her face. “So Joey's been keeping his eye on you?”

“Yeah, but it's—platonic, though.”

Zelda squinted her eyes and she rested her elbow on top of the couch next to her.

“You sure? Because I swore that with Mr. Clemente when we first met, and then next I know, we're moving to a little place outside Narragansett together.”

“Wait a minute, how'd you guys work it out, though?”

“He quit Testament for a little bit, 'bout a year. Back when they were still referred to as Legacy and like right before you came into the picture. That was how we were able to work it out for as long as we did, but then he decided to come back because, you know—I was the one paying the rent.”

“So that explains why when they were about to record in that studio upstate, they had another drummer listed,” Sam recalled.

“Right! Right—Mike, I think was his name?” Zelda snapped her fingers twice. “Mike—Mike—something or other. I can't remember what it was now.”

“Ronchette?”

“Ronchette, yeah! Good pull with that.”

The distorted sounds of a guitar floated in from the hallway behind Sam.

“Speaking of Testament, I think that's them,” Zelda said with a nod of her head. “I hear them jammin' all the time. So I kinda know Eric's tone when I hear it.”

Indeed, Sam leaned back a bit but she couldn't see anything. She stood in the doorway and she spotted Eric, Alex, and Greg right down the hall upon stools.

“Little bit of Mercyful Fate,” Greg was saying as he plucked at his thick bass strings.

Alex leaned his back to the wall with the guitar cradled upon his lap. He kept his head bowed a bit so his bangs hid most of his eyes from view; his arms looked a little more toned and sinewy than before. His playing at such a quick and hard pace and in such a brief amount of time endowed him with much more strength. Sam tucked her hand into her pocket and she felt Cliff's pick inside of there. Maybe she was too hard on him, especially since that was how he saw her.

He lifted his head and fixed his hair, and then he gazed on at her with a grave look on his face. The corners of his mouth were turned a little bit so it looked as though he was smiling, but simultaneously wasn't, like that of the Mona Lisa. Those deep eyes seemed deeper than before; and the black hair dye was starting to fade off from his head: the plume of white over his forehead was trying to make its return, such that it looked rather ghostly over his head.

She thought about that evening in the Bay Area, where he and Greg dueled on the front porch. If only she could see that side to him again. But she had nothing to say to him. If only she could show Alex the Joey she had seen that morning. If only she could show him the other side to him, but she couldn't.

But then he bowed his head again and returned to the three man jam between him, Eric, and Greg, and she returned to Zelda, who had climbed to her feet and made her way across the room to the small fridge in the corner behind Rosita's hat rack. She took out a little fruit cup and then she gestured to one of the hats on the rack.

“D'you hear about this band called Guns 'N Roses?” she asked Sam.

“Yeah?” She vaguely recalled Eric talking about them in the few months before.

“They're awesome,” Zelda said with a twinkle in her eye. “I saw them last month here in Boston—they opened up for the Stones. Completely blew them off the stage. Their lead guitarist had on this big black top hat and afterwards, he chucked it out to the audience and I caught it.” She pointed at the black top hat on the part of the rack closest to her. “Gonna see if Rose wears it tonight.”

“Rose with a rose from Guns 'N Roses,” Sam joked, and Zelda laughed out loud at that.

The two of them hung out in the dressing room for a little while longer until Aurora bustled into the room in a white camisole and a laminated badge around her neck and a clipboard under her arm.

“I was just thinkin' about you,” Sam told her.

“I was, too,” Zelda joined in with a smirk on her face.

“I have some good news, some not so good news, and some bad news,” Aurora said, out of breath.

“Bad news first so it's out of the way,” Sam quipped, and Zelda nudged her for that.

“Okay, the bad news is the label is getting bought out, and Sam—” She fetched up a sigh. “I think you and I are gonna lose our jobs.”

“Oh, no!” Sam gasped.

“Oh, shit!” Zelda gasped with her, and they looked on at each other.

“I hope Marla finds a place to live in Hell's Kitchen because I don't wanna be stuck in the Bronx forever,” Sam confessed.

“No, you don't,” Zelda assured her. “I like the Bronx, but it's not really a place you wanna get stuck in.”

“What's the not so good news?” Sam asked Aurora.

“The not so good news is Emile is moving to Brooklyn.”

“So landlord's gonna be away from his building—sounds legitimate, though. I mean, it makes sense. You guys are newlyweds.” Sam shrugged.

“Now what's the good news?” Zelda chimed in.

“Good news is if all goes well tonight,” Aurora announced, “we just might see the Cherry Suicides en route to a legitimate record deal.”

“Things just have to go well, anyways,” Zelda said with a little wave of her hand. “So no tech problems, no drama, no nonsense, things like that.”

“Absolutely.”

Zelda glanced over at Sam, who raised an eyebrow at her.

“Think we can do it?” she wondered aloud.

“Hell yeah,” Sam told her with an extended hand, and Zelda gave her a low five. “You got those big boots with you. You can so do it.”

Within time, Minerva, Morgan, and Rosita showed up, and the latter set the black top hat upon her head to go with her black lace crop top and matching short skirt. She tucked the signature rose onto the base to make it distinctly her own. Meanwhile, Sam stayed in her spot on the couch next to Zelda and watched the three of them. Even though she wasn't properly asked to do so, just sitting there alone made her feel like a band manager.

She could hear the audience outside, and she wondered what the rest of the place looked like. She ambled across the floor and she stepped out to the hallway: next door was Charlie and Scott talking to each other about something in soft voices. The former nodded at her and his soft black curls fluttered a bit over the top of his head.

“Hey you,” he said to her.

“Li'l Sam I am,” Scott followed with a raise of those thick dark eyebrows. “What'chu doin'?”

“Oh, just hangin' out—I also wanna check out the rest of this place, too.”

“Not much here,” Charlie explained, “just a little bar and a stretch of floor enough for a thousand people.”

“A thousand?” She was stunned by that.

“That's nuthin',” Joey called from their dressing room.

“Yeah, that's nuthin',” Scott echoed him.

“I think that's something,” Sam pointed out, and that got a laugh out of him.

“It's general admission, too—so everyone's either gonna have a bunch of folding chairs or standing up,” Charlie said. He then gestured for Sam to follow him out of the hallway, and he led her to a stretch of curtain at the very end, past Testament's dressing room. She looked over her shoulder and she spotted Louie perched on a small barren shelf on the wall with his white gloves on and his drum sticks in hand. He gave her a little wave, and she returned the favor.

“Right over here,” Charlie gently coaxed her: he pushed the curtain back a little bit, and she gazed out to the small stretch of black stone floor before her, lit up with some yellow and red lights overhead. Indeed, there were a few folding chairs on the floor but everyone else congregated about the place. On the opposite wall stood a small bar with a small crowd around it to boot.

“Nothing to it,” she remarked.

“Nothing to it at all,” Charlie echoed, and he nodded to the left. “That's where we're gonna playing in a little bit.” She spotted the stage adjacent to them. It looked awfully small, but she trusted the three bands behind her. Once the sun hung low over Boston, one of the people at the bar came backstage to check in on the Cherry Suicides.

“We're opening act, so we were born ready,” Zelda told her as she flicked a little fake blood onto those white shorts.

Sam lingered back on the side of the stage a bit and she watched the four of them take to the center. Zelda mounted herself on the stool while Rosita slung her bass down low: she had written “las putas” over the bridge, and Sam eagerly nodded at that. The lights turned low and she realized how small that room truly was once it erupted in noise.

“Hello, Boston!” Minerva declared into the microphone. “We are the Cherry Suicides, straight outta Rhode Island, and we're here to make all of youses into soup! Hit it!”

They opened with that gory song that Sam recalled from that night in L'Amour. The one she and Cliff danced to. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She tried not to think of him, but she couldn't help it. She missed him right there.

There was a loud crack! and she jerked back a bit. She looked around a bit and she spotted a guy near the front had put a fire cracker right near Morgan and lit it off there. But another guy pushed him away and one of the stagehands dragged him out of there.

“Fucking hell, dude, did the room clear out!” Morgan shouted, and everyone laughed at that. Sam swayed a little bit and she shook her head as she tried to shake Cliff away. He was gone, there was nothing more she could do or say right then. But the feelings persisted, at least for the next two songs. The fourth one was “Day of the Dead”, where a true mosh pit finally opened up for them.

They were moshing for the girls. Sam nodded her head at them, but then a guy close to her threw a punch to someone next to him. There was another punch, followed by a third, and a fourth, and the next one after that had been inflicted onto a woman. Zelda stopped drumming right there and she stood to her feet as a brawl broke out before them: several men but a handful of women in there as well. Sam gaped at them and she took a step back.

Even from a distance and over the wall of noise, she made out Zelda saying, “this is bullshit.”

Then someone picked up a chair from the floor and chucked it towards the stage.

“Oh, no,” Sam muttered as another guy threw a chair at Rosita. She ducked and held onto the top hat but it tumbled onto the stage behind her.

“Oh, my god!” Sam yelled.

“Jesus!” Zelda shouted as she bowed out from her drum kit: she picked up her sticks and ducked into the darkness. There was nowhere to go right there, and so Sam lunged to help her. But then something pulled her back.

“What the—”

“Get away from there!” She recognized Alex's big voice right behind her. She turned to find him putting his other hand on her shoulder. He yanked on her other arm and then bowed his head a bit before another couple of chairs sailed right past her ear.

He saved her life, but she wanted to save Zelda from the exact same thing.

“Alex!” she shouted over the wall of noise. “ALEX!” He dragged her off stage and back into that corridor. She tried to force herself away from him but he was such a strong boy. He threw open the dressing room door and all but shoved her inside.

“Stay in here!” he commanded. “No—Samantha, stay in here! It's not safe!”

“What're you—”

But before she could say anything more, he shut the door and left. Fuming, she threw open the door and she poked her head out to the corridor. No one there and the whole wing of the theater was silent save for the out of control mosh pit out there.

She let out a low exasperated sigh. But she spotted Louie and Greg at the other end of the hallway, both of them with spooked looks on their faces.

“What the hell!” she cried out as they came within earshot.

“I know, right?” Greg said, out of breath. “Alex just ran outside to get help and Chuck and Eric both just ran across the street to call the cops—Eric told us to stay here.”

“Yeah, Alex got me off the stage—I was trying to help Zelda, but he got me off of there before I almost got hit in the head.”

“But, man, Zelda's gotta be pretty pissed right now,” Louie told her as he ran his fingers through his smooth dark hair. “I saw her runnin' and she looked furious.”

“I bet she is—Aurora said they were supposed to get a record deal after tonight.”

“Hope they can do it tomorrow night,” Greg confessed as he folded his arms over his chest. “Hope there is a tomorrow night. Those girls are tough but—damn, they don't need all that.”

“Zelda told me they make fun of the fact they get called whores, though,” Sam pointed out. “I say 'kudos' to be honest.”

“Right?” Louie chuckled; the noise on the far end of the hall and on other side of the curtain seemed to die down a bit, but it was all noise from a distance to them.

“You know, that's not a bad idea to run with,” Sam continued.

“What, making fun of what they call you?” Greg asked her with a little toss of his black hair.

“Yeah. Like she and I decided to call ourselves art whores because of it.”

“Buncha art whores,” Louie chuckled some more.

“You guys!” Eric called from the doorway down the hall. In the dim light, Sam saw him gesturing for them to come on closer. “Come on! Come on! The cops are coming!”

“Where are the girls?” Sam demanded.

“They're fine—they're right out here, but come on!”

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punkpoemprose · 3 years

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Naked Soul: Chapter 16- High Hopes [December 8th]

Universe: Modern AU (Stripper AU) Rating: T (Teen & Up) Length: 3972 Words

A/N: This dear readers, is the first multichapter fic I’ve finished in years. Thanks @epbaker who reminded me multiple times recently that I said this advent was going to be all about getting things done instead of starting new projects, haha.

The unofficial title of the whole series, given the panic at the disco chapter titles, is now “Hey Look Ma I Made It”. I can’t believe that I’ve been writing this fic since 2015! Wild! For those unfamiliar this fic can be a little bit of a trainwreck because I started writing it when I was (18? 19?) and took some major liberties on the timeline, amount of research done, etc. Someday, now that it’s done, I’ll come back to it and do some editing and rewrites to make it more cohesive and a little less 2015-y. Thanks to everyone who has been reading this fic through its many long hiatuses!

Catch up here: [Naked Soul Masterpost]

Monday morning came and went in almost exhaustingly normal fashion. Anna woke up as early as she physically could for class and was, of course, still running behind. Kristoff had made her eggs and toast for breakfast and she’d only managed to get out the door in time to drive to class because he’d had the good sense to make her pack her school bag the night before.

She stretched as she walked back to her car after her last class of the day got out. She still had two hours of work to put in at the studio, preparing her ballet class for their upcoming recital, but she was thinking past that and to the evening. Elsa was back home again and while Anna knew that her sister wasn’t going to kiss and tell, she was looking forward to pestering her into telling her how her date with Della went. They were going to make dinner together while Kristoff was out of the house doing some paperwork with Sven and Anna couldn’t deny the fact that she was glad to have the distraction from her thoughts.

Things had been going well, perhaps maybe even too well. Anna hadn’t felt so good in a very long time. She wasn’t, as far as anyone could tell, being stalked anymore, and while the Westergaard brothers were still doing their best to destroy any claim she and her sister had to the business their parents built, Anna was being reasonably left out of it. She hadn’t heard anything from the PI they hired let alone any of the red headed bastards. Work and school were going well, and her relationship with her sister and with Kristoff were both positive in more ways than she could ever imagine any relationship could be. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that things were going to be alright no matter what happened that was out of her control. She was, however, despite all the good, uncomfortable in her moments alone. There was always fear clawing on the edge of her mind, a part of her waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When she sat in her car and her phone rang, she jumped about a foot. No one really called her.

Kristoff and Elsa did from time to time, but they were more likely to text, so as she riffled through her bag searching for it, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was about to learn something about self-fulfilling prophecies.

When she managed to pull the phone from her bag, she picked up without looking at the number. If it was important, she didn’t want it to go to voicemail, and if it wasn’t, she figured it was easy enough to hit the end call button.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Arendelle?” An unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line addressed her formally, instantly making her think that she’d picked up a spam call.

“Speaking,” she said anyway.

If a spam call was what the universe was throwing at her today, she could take it. She always did feel a little bad for the college kids they hired for call centers. She had been paying her way through school by getting naked and she still thought she had a better job than telemarketing.

“Hello, this is Marta calling from Williamson and Associates. I’m calling today to inform you that there’s been some recent progress in your… situation that requires your attention. Would you be able to come into the office in the next half hour to discuss?”

She froze on the spot. Lawyers. So much for hoping for a spam call.

“I think you might be calling the wrong sister. Elsa handles all the legal and business matters. I could give you her number if you need, but you should have it on file?”

“We’ve already called the other Ms. Arendelle. She is on her way in now, however she has no control over your trust and the associated control you have in Arendelle Enterprises, and for that reason we’ll really need you here to sign some paperwork and make your decisions.”

Anna sighed and fell back into the driver’s seat. Making decisions seemed like the last thing she wanted to do, and yet, if they were at the decision making process it meant that there was something like an end in sight, and she’d take it no matter what it was. She was ready to close the chapter of her life that required police and lawyers and dealing with the Westergaards if she could help it.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

When the woman on the other end was satisfied, Anna hung up the phone and tossed it into her bag before starting her car and doing her best to focus on the road instead of the million different scenarios playing out in her head about what she’d find at that office.

The other shoe had, in fact dropped, but she wasn’t sure if it was about to land sole up or down. She took comfort in the fact that no matter what she was about to learn, she knew that everything would be okay. Elsa was feeling better than she had in years, they were safe, and she had Kristoff. She’d never dreamed of being loved the way he loved her.

***

Kristoff smiled when he scooped Anna up into his arms. She’d passed out on the couch at some point after dinner and while he wasn’t certain of all the details, he knew that she’d had a long day. Elsa had already gone off to bed by the time he’d gotten home, so he hadn’t been able to ask either of them how their meeting with their lawyers had gone. He had a rough idea, Anna had sent him a text promising to fill him in when he got home, but he wasn’t about to wake her up to ask, not when she looked so peaceful.

He’d had a long day too, but it hadn’t been any surprise to him. He and Sven had been working on business paperwork, officially naming it, applying for the bank loans they needed to get started, doing all the sort of work that they had to do when they started their ice business, but somehow twice as tiresome. They’d be able to start looking for jobs soon, to start hiring, to start picking up equipment. They were starting small, working on repairs and additions more than new construction, but he was happy to have the possibility of really and truly being his own boss.

It meant good things would come, that he could make things even more stable for himself financially and make his own hours, and hopefully, find himself in a better position to ask Anna to spend the rest of her life with him. He could already imagine a bigger house, closer to his family, and little feet running across the floor, if of course, Anna wanted that too.

Her head lolled against his chest a bit as they walked. She was out, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at her. They’d been on quite a journey together since meeting. He still couldn’t believe that he had Sven to thank for that, but he was glad that he’d dragged him out to a strip club so many months ago, and the he now, like everyone else in Kristoff’s life, had been won over by Anna’s charm. His best friend, and well as his parents, were already asking when exactly he was planning to pop the question, as if he and Anna had been together for years instead of months.

He was already thinking the same thing though. He loved her. He loved her for her humor and her smiles and her resilience. He’d never met anyone stronger than her, and while she’d made it seem like he’d been helping her since they’d met, she’d really been the one holding him up, helping him to believe that good things could happen and that the world wasn’t as dark as it sometimes seemed.

He felt her stir when he bumped the bedroom door open, and he knew it was from the squealing creak it made whenever it was opened or shut. He wanted to tackle some home repair, and he thought, with a chuckle, that he may need to be his own first customer.

Sven would demand double pay.

“Did I fall asleep?” she mumbled, and even in the dim light of the hall, he could see her bleary eyes, half open, staring up at him.

He felt bad for interrupting her peaceful sleep, but took the opportunity, now that she was at least a little bit awake, to duck down and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah baby, you did. I was just bringing you to bed.”

She smiled softly and then reached up a hand, squeezing his arm lightly.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Not possible,” he replied, “Nothing would be too good for you. If I could give you the world it still wouldn’t be enough.”

She shook her head, but her smile was bright as she woke a bit more and he crossed the room, knocking the door back closed with its telltale squeak, and plunging them into darkness for only a moment until he bumped the rocker switch on the wall, knowing that now that she was up, they probably wouldn’t be sleeping.

“You’re a goof,” she said, “And I’d tell the whole world that it could hit the bricks, because all I need is you.”

He couldn’t help but give her a light squeeze before setting her onto the bed, but when he went to step away, she was still gripping his arm.

“Stay?”

She was giving him her best puppy dog eyes, and he knew that he was done with work for the evening. Once Anna had him in bed, there would be no getting out of it until he bargained with her to let him go brush his teeth.

He gestured for her to scoot over a bit then followed her onto the bed, not fighting it when she immediately wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. She was forever trying to cover him with her, and despite the size difference between them, she did a pretty good job.

“Do you want to hear about my day?” she asked, the trepidation in her voice evident despite the confident way she was holding onto him, “Or you could tell me about yours?”

He wrapped his arms around her in return, pulling her up onto him a bit more until her head was rested atop his chest.

“I’m not going to make you tell me about it if you don’t want to,” he replied.

He knew, of course, that she would tell him whenever she was ready. He trusted her to know her boundaries with him, to listen and to ask and to take what she gave him when she gave it. He tried not to pry or push unless he needed to, and even then, he always left it up to her discretion.

“My day was terribly dry and boring. Paperwork is horrible. I’d rather be back in high school history class than look at another bank document, and unless you were luckier than I was, high school history is the most boring and dry thing I think anyone can ever experience in their lives.”

“Oof,” she replied, with a sort of half laugh that made him feel more comfortable, “I’m glad my meetings weren’t as boring as yours were then. I got a call to go to the lawyers office after classes today, and after I met Elsa there, we discussed our settlement from the company and how we’d be receiving our trusts and so on and so forth. It wasn’t exactly riveting stuff, but I think everything…”

She trailed off and then looked up at him, turning her head and pushing off him so that she could make eye contact as she said it.

“I think it’s finally over Kris. I think… I think everything is going to be okay.”

He saw the tears welling in her eyes and swept his thumb across her cheek as they fell. He wanted to tell her that everything would have been alright either way, because he was going to make sure they were, but right now that didn’t matter. She was tired, and happy, and he was going to hold her through it as the weight lifted from her shoulders.

She told him about how apparently their PI “friend” had come through, how he’d produced evidence of blackmail and worse to her and Elsa’s lawyers that they’d been able to use as leverage. The rest of the board wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, but there was anarchy in the company structure nevertheless. They had grounds to sue the Westergaard family for a host of legal jargon terms Kristoff didn’t know well enough to comment on, but amongst them were defamation and embezzlement, which he had a fair enough understanding of to know that Anna and Elsa had indeed won the war.

“So they’re being forced to step down from the board, the company has to restructure and Elsa and I have the option to have the company buy us out. We even get to keep the Arendelle Industries name, so it’s going to be known as AI now and whatever happens after this, we get the cash value of our parents stake in the company, plus our trusts, and if the business faces any repercussions from what happened, our family name won’t be attached anymore. I honestly still can’t believe it.”

She started talking numbers, and he felt like he had all the wind knocked out of him. He prided himself on being at least decent at math, after all his work required it, but he wasn’t sure if he could count that high.

“It’s not about the money though,” she said quietly, ducking back down to cuddle closer to his side, “It’s nice to know it’s there and that I can pay for college and everything. But mostly I’m just glad it’s over now. I’m never going to have to see a Westergaard again for the rest of my life, Elsa won’t have to worry about the business anymore, and I can work at the studio, and…”

The pause was a nervous one, as if she was worried about what she had to say next.

“And I have you, and that’s all I think I need.”

He shifted, pulled her atop him more fully, and kissed her.

***

He was thoroughly exhausted, his back ached, he was pretty sure he was missing skin on his thigh, and when he glanced to his right, his girlfriend was, rather elegantly, leaning back and spinning five feet off the floor.

“How do you even do that?”

He could hear Della, and his mother laughing up a storm. He couldn’t even look over at them because he knew that they must be rolling on the floor.

“You’ve watched me enough,” she said, with a giggle as the music continued to play and she spun around on beat, “I thought you’d have it no problem.”

“She’s really an excellent teacher,” Elsa said from behind them, doubtlessly staring right at Della when she said it.

She was getting better and better at the teasing the longer she spent around his family. He couldn’t necessarily say he enjoyed it being directed at him, but he also was pleased by the fact that she was at least opening up more and more overtime.

“Yes,” Della replied, “It’s really just my brother. No fault of hers that he can’t follow directions.”

He thought for a moment about walking away from the pole to slug his sister, but his mom was there and she may still, very well, pull them apart with one hand each and make them do chores for the rest of the evening. It didn’t matter that they were adults. The woman was strong enough, and serious enough to have them both quivering in their boots in no time flat.

“Pay her no mind Kristoff, you’re doing great baby.”

He felt his whole face go red. He still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to any of this.

Since Anna had started teaching “aerial dance” at the studio, Della and even more terrifyingly, his mother, had been attending. While they both had told him that it was “a good work out” he had not wanted to know what they were learning.

It had been more of a joke than a real Birthday gift when he’d open the card from his sister that included a three-session gift certificate to work with Anna. His options had been, of course, ballet, fan dance, or aerial dance, and while he wasn’t particularly against any of the options, he thought doing anything with Anna would be fun, he did think that as a guy who did a lot of heavy lifting, climbing up a pole wouldn’t be particularly difficult.

He’d been very wrong.

Anna slid back down the pole, showing more technique than seduction in her motions. She crossed the floor to turn off the music and to shoot him a somewhat apologetic smile. He might be in pain, but he smiled back because even with his failures and his mother, sister, and Elsa giggling at him, he was enjoying himself.

If there was one thing that he appreciated, more than anything else about her teaching classes, it was that she was dancing because she loved it. She wasn’t dancing to please anyone when she was at the studio, she was showing others how to do something that made her feel good. Sometimes she would still dance for him, alone in the comfort of their bedroom and that too was, in a way, for her.

He knew that while the way they met may not have been the way she would have chosen, she sometimes had days and nights where she got a little nostalgic for his eyes on her like that. He always gave it to her, because as soon as she started moving like that, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, even if he wanted to. He didn’t think even with a thousand lessons from her, he could ever reciprocate quite as well. He did appreciate her laughs though when he’d give her a little shimmy.

“Okay peanut gallery,” Anna commanded in the sweet way that only she could, “I do believe that certificate was for three private lessons. You’ve had your fun, now I’d like some alone time with my student.”

Amongst various grumblings and jokes, between Anna and his mother’s chiding, the room was emptied of everyone but the two of them. While they were walking out he walked over to where he’d left his workout bag, and slipped something from within it to the pocket of his shorts.

“Sorry sweetheart,” she said, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around his waist, pillowing her head against him, “I had to let them have their fun with you.”

He chuckled. They certainly had had their fun.

“I wanted them here,” he replied, “they deserved a little laugh at my expense, I guess. Plus, I wanted at least Elsa around…”

He reached back into his pocket and retrieved the little box he’d put there, feeling the velvetiness of it under his fingers and pulling it out. Months had passed since everything was straightened out with her family business, and his own new construction business, and with it having been over a year since they met, the timing just felt right.

He had to lean away from her to kneel and her confusion, turned surprise was a look that he hoped he would never forget.

“Are you?”

He hadn’t even opened the box yet, but there was a huge smile on her face, her voice full of shock like she couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I mean, we don’t have to right away,” he said flipping open the box, “You’ve still got school and work and… I just thought even if we didn’t have the wedding for a year or more I just want to be able to call you my fiancé. If that’s what you want.”

He flipped the box open. He’d taken Elsa and Sven with him shopping, and while it had been a hilariously strange day, they’d all agreed on a ring they felt was both something that made them think of Anna, and something they thought she’d love.

The stone was small, but the band was intricate, little leaves and vines settling around an inset diamond. He hadn’t wanted a ring that had much of a profile because he wanted her to be able to wear it when she was dancing without it catching on anything. It was a good choice, he thought, looking from it to her face and letting his nerves be comforted by her grin.

“Yes, of course!”

She stooped down to his level, “Of course I want to marry you Kristoff. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more!”

He moved to kiss her, but she was already surging forward to kiss him, her fingers tangling into his hair, sweaty as it was, and her lips opening to his almost immediately. The kiss was deep and lingering and as it broke, she was smiling brighter than the sun.

He slid the ring onto her finger and as they stood, he gave her an apologetic look and turned towards the door.

“You can come back in now.”

He knew that his sister at least, if not all three must have had an ear to the door and a hand on the handle.

“My baby is going to get married! I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Anna laughed as they were overtaken by the love of the three women they called family. The rest of Kristoff’s siblings and his father would hear the news soon enough, having already known his plan. He could only imagine the chaos Anna would find when she walked through the door to see them.

The hug she gave him and the kiss on his cheek though, told him that she was ready for it.

“I don’t think I could have ever imagined being this happy,” she said, looking between him and the assemblage, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He shook his head, “That’s my line.”

***

They were allowed only an hour alone when they got back home. There would be a family dinner at his parents place to get to, and they both needed to shower, but neither of them were much interested in getting ready.

“Would it be rude to be late for dinner?” Anna asked, tugging his shirt off when the front door closed behind them.

“What was rude was the assumption we wouldn’t have other things to do,” he offered with a laugh, his hands busying themselves with unbuttoning her jeans, “They’ll deal.”

Once her pants and his shirt were off, she jumped up onto him, his hands catching her rear and holding her up on him as her mouth went to his.

“Good, because I’m going to need at least a full hour with you. Maybe two. We never did get that private lesson in.”

He groaned as her hands wandered his back and her mouth traveled from his lips to his neck and licked and nipped.

“I’m eager to learn.”

She laughed, “You’re already a professional, but we’ll see if I can show you something new.”

His eyes grew wide at that, and he nearly tripped, with her warm laugh in his ears and her hands and mouth on his skin, rushing to their bedroom.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #kristanna fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #I can't tag it with any of the usual tags if I want it to come up in searches which is wild #I was writing this before tumblr became catholic #lol

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pricemarshfield · 3 years

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what do you truly desire?

A Deckerstar human/romcom AU. Chapter 5/10, read on AO3 here (or the full fic here). Will be rated E eventually, so minors DNI.

Five months later, Lucifer's life is fantastic.

It's not a surprise. His life has always been better than the average person's: plenty of money, some of the world's best alcohol, possibly the most active sex life of anyone in the LA area. Maze's brief trend of being gentle after Chloe had rejected him because of her has long-since ended, so she's back to her normal self: quick-witted and vicious and Lucifer's best friend.

She doesn't tell him anymore stories about her roommate, and he doesn't ask her about Chloe. It's basically the same way they did things before, just with the one tweak. Still, it's not as though he doesn't know when she tiptoes around things. Maze happily starts a story about building a model rocket with her other best friend (Lucifer holds a hand to his chest, mostly-mock-offended) but then clams up when Lucifer asks the friend's name or any other details, or Maze corrects him on some minor detail about LA's liquor laws that only someone who spent a lot of time with a cop would know. (Lucifer doesn't remember what that one was. Maze handles the books.)

Lucifer continues to talk up their customers almost every night, waxing poetic about their most expensive whiskeys, whispering in a handsome man's ear about how good Maze looks mixing cocktails, helping them through the potential sexuality crisis that tends to cause. It's certainly not a traditional lifestyle, but anyone he has a conversation with long enough to actually talk about it tend to say how lucky he is.

Which is right, obviously. He's lucky. What more could he want?

Of course, the life of a club owner doesn't start at opening. He needs a new suit, deep blue for an event someone's paying a truly sinful amount of money to host at Lux, and his tailor won't do house calls. Maze had tried, at one point, to wake him up earlier, if only so that he'd cook her breakfast since she burns everything short-of-but-sometimes-including toast. But he spends over a thousand on just the sheets on his bed, let alone how much he spent on the mattress, and he's damn well going to enjoy it.

(It's not--and this is crucial--it's not moping. He doesn't have anything to mope over, definitely not, his life is absolutely wonderful and he doesn't spend any time thinking of a blonde woman who doesn't swoon at everything he says like anyone he puts any effort in with, the first person he'd been interested in since Eve and the rebellion she represented.)

He's running late for the appointment, due to some truly abysmal traffic and a lack of parking anywhere near the shop, so he's rushing along through the crowd of people that seem to be omnipresent anytime he needs to get somewhere quickly in this city.

"Excuse me, pardon me, I'm actually in a hurry, so--okay, now you're purposefully obstructing everyone here, step to the side if you're going to text--" He turns his head to stare down the offending party, a stern-faced woman with a harsh haircut and horrifically short bangs--when he runs right into someone in the street and gets hot coffee all over his person.

It's not necessarily bad form to swear in public, but the string of words that come out of his mouth certainly cross the line into bad etiquette. It hurts like a motherfucker, and worst of all, the shirt he's wearing is white. Lucifer spares a moment to be thankful--not to a God or anything, just in general--that he's already got an appointment with a tailor.

"Shit!" says the woman he bumped into, and Lucifer turns his head to see Chloe. Because he'd only just managed to mostly put her out of his mind, and the universe is a vicious, punishing thing. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry--"

She's still looking with dismay between his shirt and what's left of her coffee, not at his face, and Lucifer coughs a little. "I didn't take you for a black coffee drinker."

Chloe looks up at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Lucifer? That's--insane, LA is a city of almost 4 million people, what are the chances?"

"Given my luck? Quite high, actually," Lucifer says, and Chloe's expression shutters almost quick enough for Lucifer to miss the flash of hurt across her face. "Because of the coffee! Not--I did like this shirt, but it is good to see you. And I'm near my tailor, anyway."

Chloe still looks a little offended, but she manages a small smile up at him. "You have your own tailor?"

"Well, suits like these don't come off the rack." He holds his arms out, realizes that he's now blocking the crowd and being a huge hypocrite, and lowers them. "Let's step to the side for a second."

"What? Oh, right," Chloe says, and gets out of the way. Someone shoots them a dirty look as they shuffle through to the side. The--chicken and waffles place...interesting--has a bright, tacky red-and-gold awning that gets them a bit of respite from the shade so they can talk.

Chloe digs through her pockets, pulling out receipts and crumpled-up straw wrappers. After glancing at his face, she says, "I'm just trying to find a napkin or something to get the coffee."

Lucifer looks at the reflection of the two of them in the window. His shirt has a giant brown spot in the middle of it that, while it should come out with dry cleaning, is certainly not going to be helped by old napkins. "I'll buy a new shirt while I'm at the tailor. Hopefully it won't need alterations."

Chloe snorts. "'Alterations.'" Her British accent is abysmal and sounds less like him and more like an offensive impression of a character from a cult classic BBC show. "This place looks like a college haunt, you could probably get a USC T-shirt inside until you get home tonight."

Lucifer shudders. "Ugh. Absolutely not."

"What, you're telling me you don't have any cheap clothes that you hold onto just 'cause they're comfortable?"

"A silk robe is comfortable," he grumbles. "Certainly more comfortable than a T-shirt from--" He looks at the door, squinting against the glare of the sun against the 'restaurant' door. "--Classic Southern Cafe of the West Coast."

"I mean, the name leaves something to be desired, but if a place with a name like that's still open then it can't be all bad."

"Or someone with more money than sense decided to throw their life savings at something they were completely unqualified for. Like that cafe in Boston."

Chloe blinks at him. "The cat cafe?"

"You're familiar!" Lucifer says, delighted. "Maze told me about it, she delights in disasters."

"...she told me, too."

Right.

"Okay, look," Chloe says, and Lucifer braces himself for the worst of it. "I'm really sorry about the way I kicked you out." Oh? "I mean...I just--okay, I'm not jealous."

"I hadn't thought you were?" Lucifer says, unsure if he's about to be insulted or what. He's not letting himself be hopeful about anything, though, suffocating the urge to be optimistic about it before it can say whatever it wants to. If this conversation goes well, he'll be pleasantly surprised, and if not, he won't have lost any of the progress he's made over the course of the past few months.

(The most he's hoping for is that he'll be able to talk to her. He enjoys that, more than he does talking with almost anyone else.)

"I just mean...ugh, okay, Maze and I were a thing, okay? Just briefly, barely a month! We didn't really work like that, but we made good friends, and then she was moving out of her old roommate's place and I needed to move out of my mom's old house and it just worked? And it was just--weird, you having slept with her and me also--fuck, sorry, I'm rambling."

She is, which seems pretty unlike her from Lucifer's previous two times that he'd met her, but it's annoyingly endearing anyway. "It's fine, Detective. Don't stop on my account."

Chloe reaches a hand up to rub the back of her neck. "Right. And I just...don't really casually see people, okay? I mean, Maze was an exception. Not in that way, I'm definitely bisexual, just...yeah. And as much as I liked you, I just don't think I have the room for a relationship right now."

Lucifer's heart definitely doesn't drop down into his stomach at that, not at all. "Of course."

"I would like to hang out, though? As friends?" Chloe says. "If you're alright with--"

"I am," Lucifer says, quickly enough that he accidentally interrupts her. She grins up at him, though, so it's good, it's fine. "I...do have to get to this appointment, I need a suit for work--"

"Yeah, of course, sorry to keep you, and sorry again about the coffee! You were right, too, I don't normally like my coffee black, but it's--not important, go get a new suit."

Lucifer nods and smiles, a little awkward, a little unsure, but generally...happier. It's not even as though he was in a bad mood before, but now he's smiling easier, chattier with his tailor, doesn't mind the stain on one of his nicer shirts that's had some time to set in now and might not wash out as easily as he'd like.

Maze has been staring at Lucifer ever since he walked into the bar, wearing a new shirt and a smile. She's been drying the same glass now for almost five minutes, despite how busy it is at the bar and how much Patrick's scrambling to get things done, and it's now just a matter of which one of them will break first: Maze's impatience or Lucifer's love of talking about himself.

Lucifer really does love talking about the things that go well in his life, though, and Maze hasn't even blinked for the last stretch of time. So eventually he heads over with an eyeroll, doesn't miss the victorious smirk on her face, and sits down at the one barstool that's, miraculously, available.

"Spill," Maze says, putting the glass down at last and starting to mix a drink, to Patrick's obvious relief.

"I ran into Chloe," Lucifer says, delighted, and looks to see if Maze will tense up, if she'll show any jealousy that her ex is spending time with him. Decidedly platonic time, but still. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened with Eve. That had been a difficult time for their friendship, and for Lucifer in general, if he's being honest.

She doesn't seem to, not smiling (normal) but nodding in agreement as she looks down at the drink she's pouring. "Cool. Did you go try and find her at the police station or something? Hold up a sign like that dumb movie?"

Lucifer scoffs. "No, of course not, that would have been completely inappropriate, and not in a fun way. Especially given she rejected me." Much as that stings, it's still a novel feeling.

"Good," Maze says, sliding the drink over to a customer who only barely manages to catch it before the glass would've fallen and shattered on the floor and gotten--whatever that drink is, some lurid pink thing, all over her clothes. "So...what? She came to see you at Lux before we opened?"

"No," Lucifer says. "We just ran into each other."

"Jesus, what are the odds," Maze says, grabbing some orange juice from beneath the counter. "You wanna come back here and help out?"

"Of course not," Lucifer says, then walks to the back of the bar to help out anyway. He's not actually good at mixing drinks at all, but he knows where everything is, mostly, grabbing Maze some rum and chopping limes since they're running low. "Are we especially busy today or something? I've never seen the bar this backed up."

"Well, you weren't telling me right away, I had to make a point," Maze says with a quick glare at him. "Apologize to Patrick."

Lucifer doesn't particularly feel like apologizing to Patrick for Maze's behavior, and Patrick seems a bit too busy with pitchers of sangria to do much of anything. There's a lull in their conversation as they get drinks out to the customers as fast as possible without missing any tabs or charges or anything else, but then it slows to something they can talk during.

"Well, I'm glad it worked out, I guess?" Maze says. "Did she, like, rip your shirt off or something? I didn't think Decker had it in her."

"No," Lucifer says. "While I'm not at all opposed, she actually just spilled some coffee--"

Maze laughs. "Holy shit, really? Wow, I didn't realize she was mad at you! I'm normally really good at picking up on anger!"

"It was an accident, Mazikeen, would I be in a good mood if it wasn't?" Lucifer says, annoyed, wiping down the counter with a rag just to get the worst of the condensation and sweat off.

She doesn't respond right away, and when he looks back, she's smiling at him, softer than she normally would. "Hey. I'm glad you're in a good mood about it."

"Okay?" Lucifer says, unused to Maze being nice when she doesn't want something from him. "Why--"

"Which is why I'm gonna tell you right now," Maze interrupts. "That you're my best friend. And that I care about you."

"I--okay? I--"

"And that if you hurt Chloe," Maze says, still smiling, still with that same casual tone. "I will fucking end you. Got that?"

"I haven't even done anything!" Lucifer protests. "Is she getting this same shovel talk? And besides, she's said she's not interested, it's just--friendly."

"Oh," Maze says, relaxing against the counter a little more. "Really? Wouldn't have guessed that. Also...yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, she got the same shovel talk," Maze says with another eyeroll, all trace of her sweet, fake smile gone. "Obviously. You're my best friend."

Lucifer nods, shoulders dropping just a little. It's not that he was worried Maze was picking between him and Chloe, like it's some sort of fight, but it's--nice, to be reassured that she's on his side anyway.

"Also?" Maze says, glare getting worse.

"Also...I care about you too?"

"Thank you!" Maze says in her sweetest, fakest voice of all. "Also, I'm guessing you two didn't exchange numbers again?"

"Shit."

"It's fine, I got you, let me just make sure Chloe's cool with it once I'm home," Maze says. "You're definitely both being stupid as hell, but whatever, at least it'll be fun to watch."

At 1:43am, after they've finished closing up and cleaning and getting everything ready for tomorrow, Lucifer checks his phone for the first time in an hour and sees a text from a number he doesn't recognize.

Hey! It's Chloe. Maze gave me your number, she said you said it was okay

If it's not, I'm sorry and I won't text again

And if you're not Lucifer, I'm sorry and please let me know?

Hello, Detective

She doesn't respond, but it's late enough that she's probably asleep, and frankly, after having to actually work tonight, he's about ready to pass out himself. So he does, gets into the most comfortable sheets he's ever head and is unconscious almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. He misses one more text, from a number he hasn't texted in years.

hey! i'm back in town if you want to meet up! let's partyyyy

#deckerstar #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer on netflix #fox lucifer #fic: what do you truly desire?#my fics

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