A Hundred Days | Dan Howell x Reader

Chapter 15.

The fingers of his right hand grazed the buttons of your white shirt, his left fingers brushing past the small of your back, lower, lower, lower still.

His lips were touching to your neck, kissing from jawline to collarbone as you pressed closer to him and he backed you to the wall.

"Michael", you breathed, "we have to go... Michael, we made plans..."

His breath was ragged. "They can wait five more minutes", he muttered before his lips crashed against yours and you moved in sync.

You finally pulled away, checking your watch; it was already five minutes later as his hands roamed you.

"Michael, now we really have to go", you said, his lips at your earlobe.

"Five more minutes?"

You laughed softly and kissed him full on the mouth, not gently, but lustfully.

Then you pushed him away and re-buttoned the top of your shirt.

He smoothed at his hair, but you dragged your hands through it as his own attempts were useless.

Another, lovelier, more ravishing smile flickered through your mind, another mop of messy, curly, rather than stick-straight, hair danced through your thoughts. Even in such intimate moments, you could not keep your focus on Michael.

Damn it.

You grabbed your jacket from the sofa and swung it over your arm, checking in the mirror that your reflection wasn't too ruffled, then joined arms with Michael who'd also fixed his appearance, before the two of you walked out the door.

You'd invited Eileen, Dan, Phil, Dodie, Evan, and even Louise and her boyfriend out to for drinks in an attempt to break the ice between your boyfriend and your friends.
Because you'd faced the truth. None of them liked him.

Well, Dodie, Evan, Louise, and Liam didn't know him, but, a few days after you'd made up with Dan, you'd come home, alone, drunk at four in the morning for the third time that week, and Eileen had made it quite clear to you what she thought of that 'son of a bitch you're dating'.

"You're not my mother, Eileen!" you'd yelled at her.

"No, I may not be", she'd screamed back so shrilly that you were sure both Dan, Phil, and Mrs. Turner would come running, "but I sure as hell am your best friend and while I'm still alive and kicking, there is nobody under this sun that will be treating you the way that Michael does!"

"You don't know him", you'd spat back.

"Quite likely not the way you do, but I know his type, and Y/N, don't come fucking sobbing to me when he hurts you, because the only words you'll get from me are I. Told. You. So".

"Fine, I won't. I won't bother talking to someone who hates me", you'd slurred. Then you'd stormed to your room like a child and slammed the door like a sterotypical teenager.

You'd heard Eileen scream in frustration and then heard her break into sobs.

When there were still quiet snuffling sounds coming from the living room half an hour later and you'd calmed down a little, the alcohol wearing off slightly, you had gone to her and sat with her until you both were fumbling for apologies.

"You can always come to me, Y/N/N, always, and I'm sure you an go to Dan and Phil too, but Michael is bad news, I'm telling you".

You'd only nodded.

Dan obviously didn't like Michael, and Phil, so very unlike him, grumbled whenever the name was mentioned.

But now you were going to make an effort for your relationships with both Michael and your friends. You had to make it work. What you and Michael had was too precious to break, wasn't it?