off Tumblr since I was doing my hair all day and comment down below what the last two imagines of this book should be ?
y/n point of view
"(F/n), did you finish all my Lucky Charms?" you holler from your crouching position by the kitchen pantry, desperately searching for your favourite box of cereal. You just know that your pesky flatmate, (f/n), devoured whatever was left of the box.
After a moment of silence, you try again. "(F/n)! Did you eat my Lucky Charms!"
"What?" he yells back from another room.
"LUCKY! CHARMS!!" you scream at the top of your lungs.
"What about them?"
"DID YOU EAT THEM?"
A pause, then, "Oh, that. Yup."
You heave a sigh of exasperation. The yelling matches are an all too familiar method of communication between the two of you. Him eating all your cereal is likewise a common occurrence. "Guess I'll have to go to the supermarket. Again," you mutter to yourself, kicking the pantry door shut. As much as you love your annoying slob of a flatmate, there are plenty of things about him that you wouldn't mind changing. And his constant thievery of your main source of sustenance is at the top of the list.
You call out one more time. "I'm going shopping!" You wait for a moment, just in case he responds, but it's more likely he didn't hear you. Probably watching TV, you realize. Or porn. You grab your keys, put on a coat and scarf, and head out the front door to your car. It's snowing, which makes you smile momentarily. Maybe you'll have a white Christmas after all.
Arriving at the supermarket, you quickly find the cereal section and pack your shopping cart high with boxes of Lucky Charms. You're about to pay when you remember you're running low on shampoo, so you grab some of that too. On your way out of the aisle, you spot the makeup section and stop by, unable to resist. Though you rarely put on a full face of makeup, you like to play with different lipstick colors. And as always, looking through the vast array of mascara options, your mind flashes to your crush. You can't help but picture him, in all his hotness, and wonder if he would notice you more if you just put on the right makeup...
You shake yourself and put down the tube of mascara you're holding. You really need to stop thinking about (c/n). He is so clearly out of your league; there's no point making a fool out of yourself trying to get his attention. You've talked several times, what with him always being at your flat hanging out with (f/n), but you've never gotten the impression that he could be into you. Why would he be? He's so cool, attractive and confident, and you're so...not. You feel like a peasant pining over a handsome prince.
You sigh and wheel your cart to the checkout. You really need to move on.
But when you set down your enormous shopping bags and open the door to your flat, you remember why it's not that easy to just get over your crush. Because when the door opens, (c/n) is there, standing just a few feet away. And God, he's attractive. His perfect hair, his sparkling eyes, his beautiful mouth...which opens now to say your name.
"Hey, (y/n)."
The simple greeting leaves you breathless. You try to say something clever in response but only manage to stammer, "H-hey..." You cringe. No wonder you've never had a decent conversation with him.
He nods a little in response. You decide to be bold and say something else. "So, uh...what are you doing here?" The words come out shaky, but at least you made it through a full sentence.
"Oh, I was just getting something I left here..." He gestures vaguely in the direction of (f/n)'s room. Before you can decide whether to ask for clarification, (f/n) bursts through the door of his room, holding a book. "Found it," he announces. He stops when he sees you. "Oh, you're home. Got the cereal?"
You lift up the bulging shopping bags still in your hands. "We have Lucky Charms for months." You throw him a glare. "Unless you eat them all again."
He puts his hands up defensively. "Okay, okay." Crossing the room, he hands (c/n) the book. "Here."
(C/n) grins. "Thanks. Now I can finally see how it ends."
(C/n) reads! You curse under your breath, because this only makes him more attractive. Why couldn't God have made him uglier?
(F/n) pats him on the shoulder. "No problem, nerd." (C/n) flips him off jokingly as your flatmate returns to his cave.
Now alone, (c/n) turns back to face you. "So, uh...need any help with those groceries?"
You look down, remembering the large bags in your hands. "Oh, no, it's fine, I got it, but thanks," you say as casually as possible. "Umm...hey, what book is that?"
He looks at the book. "Oh, this? It's The Great Gatsby. I know, it's crazy that I'm only reading it now," he says, scratching the back of his neck.
"I haven't read it at all...does that make me crazy too?" You laugh nervously.
He smiles. "No, of course not. But you really should read it, it's a fantastic book. Maybe when I finish it, I could lend it to you, if you want," he offers.
You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you smile at him. "That would be really great, thanks!"
"Yeah, no problem. I'll bring it over when I'm done with it. Just as long as it doesn't get lost in (f/n)'s room again," he chuckles, shaking his head. "That place is a disaster."
"Tell me about it," you agree.
After a moment's silence, he clears his throat. "Well, I guess I should go..."
"Oh, right, of course." You move away from the door so he can leave.
He walks over, and as he passes you he says, "Nice seeing you, (y/n)."
Once again you're left breathless at simply hearing your name from his mouth. You try to reply, maybe to say that it was nice seeing him too, or that he's very cute or that you're in love with him. But he's already out the door. Probably for the best.
After a solid minute of reliving the conversation and fanning yourself, trying to recover from his unreasonable cuteness, you go to the kitchen and start putting away the cereal boxes. (F/n) comes out a minute later and fills up a mug of coffee. "Need any help?"
"Nah," you reply absentmindedly, still thinking about (c/n).
"Good, cause I wouldn't have helped anyway." He grins and waits for you to flip him off or punch him, both of which you do quite frequently. When nothing happens, he peers into your face. "What's the matter with you?"
"Dude, your friend is so hot," you say before you can stop yourself.
(F/n) coughs and then laughs, his eyes widening. "(C/n)? You wanna bang (c/n)?"
"Hey, I didn't say that!" You snap out of your funk and punch him in the arm. He chuckles. "There she is."
You put another box in the cabinet. "He's just, like, really cute, that's all."
(F/n) rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say." Then he adds, "But by all means, date him, if it will turn you into this harmless, glazed-eyed bunny," he teases, poking your cheek. You just shake your head in response. He laughs again. "Amazing."
A few days later, it's snowing again. And apparently, with snow comes (c/n). The doorbell rings, and you rush to answer it, wondering who it could be. You practically never have visitors. You swing open the door. And there he is, standing on your doorstep, looking beautiful with a dusting of snow in his hair and on his coat.
"Hey, (y/n)," he says with a slight smile.
You quickly smooth down your hair, which you suddenly realize is a mess, and clear your throat a couple times. "Hey. I'll go get (f/n)."
You turn to look for your flatmate, but (c/n) stops you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Actually, it's you I wanted to see," he tells you quietly.
"Me?" you say nervously, surprised, and turn back to face him. He's still standing, like, right there. Inches away from you. It's a lot to handle.
"Yeah, um...I finished the book."
"Book?" you echo questioningly. God, he has such gorgeous eyes...
He chuckles. "Yeah. Book." He holds out The Great Gatsby. "So, uh, you mentioned a few days ago how you never read this, and I offered to lend it to you-"
"Yeah, I remember." You smile reassuringly. Funny, he seems almost shy, which you would never expect from someone as hot as him. It's very endearing.
"Um, did you still want to borrow it?" He bites his lower lip nervously. Does he know what that does to you?
"Oh, yes, totally," you say eagerly. (C/n) passes you the book, and as you take it from him, your fingers graze his. He pulls his hands back quickly, and you feel a twinge of disappointment. Is he that disgusted with you that he can't touch your fingers?
"Thanks, I'll get it back to you right away," you say brightly, trying not to let the disappointment show.
"Take your time, I've already read it," he reminds you. He turns to leave but you stop him. "Do you want to come in for a bit? It's snowing pretty hard out there," you point out.
He hesitates, but continues his retreat anyway. "Oh, that's okay, I don't want to intrude."
You frown. "Okay." Maybe he's just being polite, but you don't want to push it and make yourself any more obvious than you already have. "I'll let you go, then. Stay warm."
"Thanks," he mumbles as he walks away. You watch him go for a moment before closing the door with a sigh. As you lean against it, kicking yourself for being too bold, (f/n) emerges from his room. "Who was that?" he asks as he goes into the kitchen.
"(C/n)," you reply distractedly.
"Really?" He pokes his head back out, coffee mug in hand. "He left quickly. What did he want?"
"He was just dropping off a book," you explain. "The Great Gatsby."
(F/n) raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that the book I just gave back?"
"Yeah, he said I could borrow it when he was done."
"Mmhmm." (F/n) watches you for a moment before changing the subject. "I'm thinking of hosting a Christmas party this weekend."
"Here?" you groan. "How many people?"
He leans casually against the doorframe. "Oh, just a few, you know. No big deal." He eyes you again. "Just some close friends...like (c/n), for example."
Now you're paying attention. You try to act casual too. "Okay, well, whatever. I'll just stay in my room and avoid your annoying friends."
"Annoying, huh?" (F/n) smirks. "I don't think that's how you described (c/n) the other day," he teases slyly.
A fierce blush rises to your face. "I - ugh - shut up," you decide after failing to think of a snappy comeback. (F/n) chuckles as you quickly escape into your room.
You open up (c/n)'s book, deciding to read it as quickly as possible so you can return it to him at the party that weekend. Settling into a comfortable position on your bed, you flip to the first page and start reading.
Hours later, you're startled out of your reading by a knock on the door. "(Y/n), you alright in there?"
(F/n). "Yeah, I'm good," you yell back.
"Just checking. I thought you died."
"Nope, still alive," you assure him.
"Damnit." He laughs at his joke.
You roll your eyes. "Did you need something?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm ordering pizza, you want some?"
Pizza? What time is it? You check your phone. Wow, it's already eight. Time flies when you're reading a good book. (Given to you by your crush, no less.)
"Yeah, get a pie and I'll eat whatever escapes your ravenous hunger," you call out.
When he leaves to order the pizza, you return to the book. Checking your progress, you see that you only have a few pages left. At (f/n)'s call of "Pizza's here!", you exit the room, bringing the book with you, and continue reading as you sit down at the kitchen table.
"Have you been reading that all afternoon?" (f/n) asks incredulously as he sets down the pizza box.
"I'm soo close to finishing. Don't talk to me for like five minutes, please," you beg him as you turn to the next page.
"Good God, (y/n), you don't have to read the whole thing in one day," he remarks. "And I never pegged you as a big reader."
"I read!" you shoot back, offended.
"But never this much," (f/n) points out. "I wonder if it could have anything to do with (c/n), and how hot he is." He adds extra emphasis to the word, just to see you squirm.
You groan. "Ugh, please, let it go! I was kidding. Or not, but there are loads of hot people in the world. I'm not in love with him or anything." You stop yourself before you can continue babbling on like a lunatic.
"Are you sure about that?" (f/n) teases as he takes a bite of pizza. You sigh and shut the book, pulling out a slice for yourself.
"Okay, maybe I would date him, if only he weren't totally out of my league," you confess reluctantly.
"And the truth comes out." (F/n) grins and leans back in his chair. "You really like him, huh?"
"Again, I didn't say that," you protest, "...but yeah, I guess I do." You wince a little at the thought, and the fact that you're telling all this to (f/n), of all people. "But it's hopeless, he would never like someone like me."
(F/n) tilts his head to one side thoughtfully. "I wouldn't be so sure. He's been coming over a lot recently, hasn't he?"
"Twice in one week isn't 'a lot,'" you inform him. "Plus, he comes for you, not for me."
"That's a good one." He laughs. "I didn't even see him at all today. And you should know, he wouldn't lend a book out to just anyone. He's very protective of his books."
"Protective enough to leave them behind in your pigsty of a room?" you tease, taking another bite of pizza as (f/n) sticks his tongue out at you.
That Saturday is Christmas Eve, and the day of your flatmate's "small party." As expected, "small" is hardly an accurate description of the party. There could be anywhere from fifty to a hundred people here. You poke your head out of your room, wondering if (c/n) has arrived yet, and shrink back, overwhelmed by the crowd. But you really want a drink, so you plan out a path from your room to the kitchen and make a dash for it.
Skidding to a stop in the kitchen, you reach into the fridge and grab a can of Coke. You shut the fridge door and open the can, taking a delicious sip and sighing happily. You turn around to run back to your room and immediately collide with someone, spilling Coke all over yourself.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," says a familiar voice. You look up and see (c/n) with a hand over his mouth. He removes it and more words spill out: "Are you okay, oh God, sorry, I've ruined your shirt..."
You look down just to check, but sure enough, you're only wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. "It's no big deal, these are my pjs. It'll come out in the wash," you reassure him. Then you notice a large dark spot on his sweater. "Sorry, did I get some on your shirt?"
He looks down too. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure? I can lend you one of (f/n)'s shirts, he won't mind," you offer anxiously.
He hesitates, but relents. "Okay, if you're sure. Thanks."
You lead him through the noisy crowd of people to (f/n)'s room and, after tiptoeing your way around the piles of junk and clothes strewn over the floor, open his closet.
Together you look in only faint surprise at the three or four shirts hanging on the hangers. "Well, at least it won't be hard to pick one," you offer up meekly.
(C/n) laughs. "Looks like most of his closet is on the floor at the moment," he remarks. "I'll just wear this." He pulls a button down off its hanger and then pulls his sweater over his head. Before you can register what's happening, his gloriously toned chest is only a foot or so away from your face. You cough loudly as a blush rises quickly to your cheeks. "Um, I'll leave you alone," you mumble quickly.
He watches your reaction with a small grin as he buttons up (f/n)'s shirt. "Don't worry, I'm keeping the rest of my clothes on," he says teasingly.
Oh, no, take them off, please, you think, but put on an innocent smile. To break the silence, you say, "I finished The Great Gatsby. I have it in my room if you want it back."
He cocks an eyebrow. "That was fast! You sure you don't want to keep it a little longer?"
"Yeah, I read it all in one sitting, it was that good. You can have it though." You lead him to your room, and after hesitating in the doorway for a moment, he follows you inside.
While you retrieve the book from your nightstand, (c/n) walks in a circle around the room, examining your bookshelves and posters. You hold out the book as he approaches you. "Merry Christmas," you joke.
He smiles. "Why thank you, I'm touched," he says with a chuckle. Then he gets serious. "Actually, I...have something for you too."
"Really?" Your mouth opens slightly, as you stand there, at a temporary loss for words. "I...you didn't have to."
He pulls a small box out of his pocket and hands it to you. You open it up to see a beautiful pair of pearl earrings, and gasp quietly. You touch them lightly with your fingers, hardly able to believe they're real, or that this is really happening. "These are for me?" You look back up at him, trying to read his expression.
(C/n) smiles at you. "I just figured...you know, you deserve something for putting up with this big party at your place. And I feel like you're becoming a really good friend."
"Oh." You're caught between the extreme happiness of getting a gift from your crush and the disappointment of being friendzoned. "Thanks, you too."
He scratches his neck awkwardly. "Um...wanna put them on?"
"Oh, yeah, sure." You remove your earrings hastily and take the pearls out of the box. You fumble to put them in your ears, but your hands are shaking too much and you keep missing. You curse inwardly for making your nervousness so obvious.
(C/n) laughs lightly. "Need a hand?"
"Uhh, maybe..." you crack an embarrassed smile and hand him the earrings. He steps closer to you and puts them in your ears with ease, his fingers brushing your skin in the process. He steps back when he's finished, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Well, how do they look?" You smile, trying to ignore the heat in your face, and wiping your palms subtly (you hope) on your pants.
"Beautiful." He smiles back, and your skin heats up all over again. You find yourself unable to meet his eyes. Maybe if you do, he'll be able to tell how madly in love with him you are.
(C/n) saves you from your own awkwardness. "Okay, I guess I'll go back out there and try to socialize now," he says with a nervous laugh.
"Good luck." You remember the book suddenly and grab it from your bed, where he'd put it down before. "Don't forget your book!"
"Thanks. Merry Christmas, (y/n)." He takes it from you, nods farewell and closes the door behind him.
You flop onto your bed, waiting for your heartbeat to slow back down. You hate how nervous you get around him, and how very obvious you must be making it. As if your chances aren't bad enough already, now you're reduced to a stammering idiot whenever he comes around. You glance out the window. Small white tufts are falling from the sky, illuminated by the Christmas lights around the trees and nearby buildings. You smile to yourself, calmed by the sight. Funny how (c/n) always seems to bring the snow with him. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, you decide, you definitely love snow. Your eyes close slowly as you settle back contentedly in bed.
An hour or so later, you blink awake. You check the time, shocked that you fell asleep. The party must be over by now. You tiptoe over to your door and press an ear against it just to see if there are still people in the flat. It's silent, so you're about to open the door. But then you hear (c/n)'s hushed voice.
"It's hard to explain, but something about her just draws me in, you know?"
You're instantly wide awake. Who could he be talking about? Of course, you don't know anything about his friends or coworkers. He's probably surrounded by hot girls, which is why you have no chance with him.
(F/n)'s noncommittal grunt comes through the door, and he says something too quietly for you to hear. You strain to catch more of the conversation.
"I know, we've barely talked, but it doesn't take much to really like this girl..." You can hear the smile in his voice as the sentence fades.
"Well, do you think she likes you back?" (F/n) sounds amused, almost like he's hiding something.
"I wish, but there's no way. She could do so much better than me," (c/n) says dejectedly. Who on earth is he talking about? As if any girl ever could do better than (c/n)!
(F/n) snorts. "Yeah, right, she'd be lucky to get a guy like you," he says, then adds, "No homo."
(C/n) laughs halfheartedly. "You missed a cup over there."
"Thanks." There's the faint sound of rustling trash bags. They must be cleaning up the place. It's just like (c/n), to stay and help after everyone else has left.
After a moment, (c/n)'s voice speaks up again. "Hey, (y/n) is definitely asleep, right?"
"She was out cold when I checked ten minutes ago." Upon hearing that, you quickly tiptoe back to bed and lie down, just in case they decide to check again. They don't, and you want to go back to listen to the rest of their conversation, desperate to know who this mystery girl is. But instead you just lie there in torment for ten or twenty minutes, after which you decide it's safe to "wake up" and leave the room.
When you open the door, you see (f/n) and (c/n) still cleaning up, rearranging lopsided furniture and discarding stray plastic cups. (C/n) glances up. "Hi."
"Hi," you reply, stretching. (F/n) looks up too, and his eyes go back and forth between you and (c/n). He has that mischievous look he gets when he knows something. He'd better not give away anything you confessed to him the other day. You shoot him a warning glare as you fake a yawn. "God, what time is it?"
(F/n) checks his phone. "Almost midnight," he announces.
(C/n) straightens up abruptly. "Oh, man, I should get going." You watch him as he puts away a last soda bottle and heads to the coat rack to get his jacket. "Thanks for the party, (f/n). And (y/n), thanks for the book," he says, holding up The Great Gatsby with a gentle smile.
"Oh, yeah. No problem." You shove your hands in your pockets, awkwardly bouncing on the balls of your feet.
(F/n), who has been watching the exchange without interruption, now speaks up. "Okay, enough," he declares, to the mutual confusion of you and (c/n). "Dude, I'm not just gonna let you leave like that."
"Um...huh?" (C/n) voices your bewilderment.
(F/n) smirks in satisfaction. "What with all the new information I've gotten from both of you recently, I can't just sit back and do nothing."
You exchange a glance with (c/n). You're too nervous to say anything, knowing what information (f/n) has from you. But (c/n) isn't as shy. "Speak English, please," he says. "What are you talking about?"
"You two, of course," (f/n) says, as if it's obvious. "I'm done watching you pining over each other and making lovey eyes towards each other. Just fess up, for God's sake."
There's a moment's silence as neither of you dare say anything. (F/n) shrugs. "Fine, I'll do it for you." He turns to (c/n). "(C/n), (y/n) likes you." As (c/n) grapples with the news, gaping in shock, (f/n) turns to you. "And (y/n), (c/n) likes you. There, wasn't that easy? Now, feel free to make out, or whatever. I'll leave you to it." And just like that, he casually strolls back into his room.
For a minute you and (c/n) just stare at each other, unable to say anything. Finally (c/n) speaks up. "(Y/n), is that true?" he says softly.
Your face is definitely bright red at this point. You look around the room, anywhere but at (c/n). "Uhh, I don't- I mean, I guess...yeah..." you stutter, like a complete fool. "Umm...what about you? Do you..." You leave the end of the question hanging.
(C/n) slowly breaks into a grin. "Yeah, it's true. I like you. Like, a lot." He takes a few cautious steps towards you.
A giddy feeling of ecstasy starts to spread through you as you grin in response. "Oh. Well great, cause I like you a lot, too." You frown. "Wait, you already knew that."
He laughs. "Well, it's nice to hear again," he says jokingly, taking a few more steps towards you.
"Why...why didn't you tell me?" you ask.
"I would have, but I was just way too shy." He reaches you and stops a foot away. Lord he is tall close up.
"Why would you be shy? You're totally out of my league!" you protest in bewilderment.
(C/n) shakes his head. "Not true at all. (Y/n), you're gorgeous."
You frown. "I'm not-" you start, but before you can finish, you're stopped quite literally by a mouth on yours. Well, that's happening. Your brain freezes completely and all thoughts fly out immediately. (C/n)'s arms land on your waist and pull you closer as he kisses you in the most perfect way imaginable. When he finally pulls away, you almost collapse. He has to grab your arms to keep you up. Laughing, he leans over and whispers in your ear, "Do you believe me yet?"
"Mmhmm," you whisper back, grabbing his face and kissing him again. Oh, you are never going to get tired of this. That is, if (c/n) wants to go out with you...
Right on cue, (c/n) breaks the kiss again. "Be my girlfriend?" he asks in a low voice.
"Only if you'll be my boyfriend," you joke.
"Deal." He chuckles. "This will definitely be my favorite Christmas present ever."
"No contest," you agree, stretching up to go in for a third kiss. And at that moment, in your crush's arms with colored lights around you and the faint sound of Christmas music in the distance, you feel like you're in a fairytale. Best Christmas ever, you decide happily.