#same as with kindergarten AU I will keep this one back in my head to draw sometimes for shit and giggles xD

[bonniecupcake]

I love the swap AU of them so much 💙 I got inspired by @ink-mar-qin's Irken Dib design bcs he is everything xD

For this, my idea is that Dib is an Irken scientist who tries to prove to Armada (but mostly his dad) that there are paranormal in the universe.

Membrane, who is also an Irken scientist, tries to convince his son to do the real science. Realizing Dib is too stubborn, he lets him fly and do his research but creates Gaz to protect him.

Gaz is programmed to always stay by Dib's side no matter how much she gets annoyed by this.

When they arrive on the planet with the most paranormal activity - Earth, they get immediately spotted by Zim, who was just walking by.

Dib is friendly towards Zim, not seeing him as a threat, and Zim even offers his help with hunting for cryptids but really just trying to get to Irken alien tech to help him rule over the world.

#same as with kindergarten AU I will keep this one back in my head to draw sometimes for shit and giggles xD #invader zim #invader zim fanart #zim #art #bonbondraws #dib membrane #gaz membrane #swap AU #irken Dib #human Zim #zadr #zadr art #zadf #zadf art #zim and dib

[wasteddmoondust]

teacher || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!

"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."

James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.

He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.

Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.

"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.

You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.

You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."

You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.

"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.

"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."

You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."

There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.

"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."

"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.

"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."

You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.

He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.

Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.

His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.

"Mr Potter-" you start.

"Please, you can call me James-"

"Your son is my student."

"He won't be by next week."

"It will be very unprofessional of me-"

"I don't hear a no, though..."

And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.

Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.

You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.

You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"

James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"

He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.

"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.

You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."

He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.

You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.

a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #requests #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you #zee writes

[mwahaechz]

Omfg just saw ur dad spiderman mark au AND ITS SOOO GOOD CLD WE PERHAPS GET ANOTHER ONE WHEN his daughter has a bf in kindergarten and mark got super jealous and protective????

EEEEE stop i love spiderdad mark so much 🥹🥹 im so sorry uts been so long anon 😭 but here u go i hope u enjoy <3

spider mark × g!n reader

warnings : fluff, just pure fluff, jealous/overprotective spiderdad mark, spiders, webs, puppy love, kindergarten sweethearts TT, kisses <33, mark is a simp for you !!!!, they’re so in love i might just kms

read pt1 of the spider-dad chronicles. (optional!)

mark wasn’t one to be jealous, he really wasn’t. so why was he glaring daggers at the little boy sitting next to his daughter on-top of the slide. now, don’t get mark wrong, he trusted his daughter with his whole heart. but knowing that everyone but him knew she had a boyfriend at the ripe age of four and a half was baffling.

“babe.. why didn’t you tell me?” mark whined for the nth time, tugging at your shirt as he kept his eyes on the way the little slightly tannedboy treated jinni. you sighed, hugging him and pecking his lips softly.

“she told me she didn’t want me to tell you, plus, i thought donghyuck would’ve told you..”

“dONGHYUCK..?!? shes dating his son?! nope. im not having it.” mark scoffs, shaking his head and standing up straight to walk over to the toddlers.

you place a hand on his chest and softly push him to sit back down on the bench, cupping his face to make him look at you. “mark, just let the kids be.. its only a puppy love, they’ll forget about it eventually when they get older.” you reassure him, leaning in to get a taste of his pouting lips.

“yeah, but… we were also a puppy love, and look at us now!” he softly whines, pouting even more as he squints his eyes at the little boy helping his daughter up the steep steps of the playground.

“babe, we were both in first grade when we met.” you playfully roll your eyes, leaning your head against your husband’s chest.

“so?” he furrows his brows, leaving a kiss on the back of your hand before playing with it.

your heart flutters, a soft blush growing on your cheeks at his random acts of affection that have you falling in love and wanting to get married again. “they’re in kindergarten.” you say, looking up at him from your place on his chest.

he looks down at you, the words in the back of his throat ready to leave when he suddenly forgets everything but the way your pretty eyes look up at him. mark slightly clears his throat, neck and face burning up. “..and? that’s basically the same thing.”

you giggle at the fact that his words don’t really make sense. “we were both either six or seven years old when we were in first grade, mark, the kids are barely four.”

“two years isn’t that much of a difference, they’re basically already in high schoo—” you cut him off by sweetly kissing him, hands cupping his face as he sighs and melts into the kiss. he leans his forehead on yours, arms wrapping around your waist.

your kisses were his favorite thing to destress with. he would go hours and hours just kissing you if he could. the canadian would constantly kiss you, be it anywhere. your husband just couldn’t keep his lips off you, but you loved it.

you loved the way he would melt into your hold when you kissed him, the way he would throw away anything for just a kiss from you, the way he always made sure to kiss you softly and sweetly, not to mention the fact that he always asks before doing so like a proper gentleman.

“so.. why didn’t you tell me about the fact that your son had been hitting on my daughter..?!” the canadian male asks the tanned male, eyes glaring at the younger male. donghyuck chuckles, having pulled off his mask to drink his cup of.. banana milk?

“listen, milk-”

“mark.”

“milk. as i was saying.. it’s not that much of a big deal, it’s just a silly lil’ puppy love.” donghyuck says, shrugging as he chugs the rest of his banana milk. his black and red deadpool suit blending in well with the night as he stands up on the side of the parking lot edge.

mark looks up at the male, softly swinging his legs back and forth as he looks at the night sky instead. “.. my little girl is growing up..” he mumbled, memories of when jinni was first born, when she took her first step, when she finally learned she could shoot webs, when she spoke his name, all flooded his mind as his eyes slightly glossed over.

“i love my family,”

“okay, we get it mister ‘friendly neighborhood spider-dad-man’.”

“oh shut up, donghyuck!”

“make me~ … wAIT. NO. NOT THE WEB- MFPH!”

“you had it coming, lee.”

the ending was slightly rushed bcz i just wanted to publish it before i end up forgetting 😥

but i hope you enjoyed <3

© vqlentinez 2024

#LIA’s ‘THE INCREDIBLE SPIDER-DAD’ 💌: #nct dream #nct drabbles #nct fanfic #nct dream x reader #love #nct dream fluff #mark lee fluff #mark lee drabbles #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #spidermark #mark lee #mark fluff #mark #markhyuck #nct fluff #nct mark

[lovrily]

hii!! i absolutely love your writing!! 😍 can i request a fic please with steve x fem!reader. mutual pining but they dont know with soulmate au. but steve is the first one who finds out that they're soulmates. thank youu <33

this is so sweet i love it thank u for requesting <3 i'm sorry it took so long, i'm in uni so i haven't had much time to write!! i hope this is similar to what you wanted!! - steve x fem!reader, 4000 words

the fact is that steve harrington knew you were soulmates the first time you opened your mouth, but he thought following that intuition would be corny, so he did not. instead, he let it eat him alive for a decade like a parasite, which made more sense to him to do. in the beginning, at least.

"hi."

this was fourth grade. you and steve had been in the same elementary school classes since kindergarten, and he knew who you were- but not well. you bounced between being quiet and loud; from sitting silently on the school bus with your head rattling against the window, to bouncing around the playground, coattails flapping in the autumn wind. all kids were like this, it seemed. elementary school flew by in a haze of long division, scraped knees, and complementary shaved ice. at the end of the day, every kid would end up talking to one another, at some point, shy or not. but this was the first time you had ever spoken to him.

steve bristled. "hey."

it was an incredibly fascinating phenomenon, you would later realize. the capacity of a child to fall in love with somebody they'd only spoken to once, and for it to never go away, even when adulthood made you strangers.

steve sniffled, cold october wind scratching his cheeks. he had an arm wrapped around the frozen metal pole of the jungle gym, his friends dangling about behind him.

"um," you started. "my friend dropped her journal down there and she's afraid to go get it."

you pointed at the mulch inside the dome of the jungle gym, then to your friend, who was whisper screaming profanities at you for saying, "she's afraid to go get it."

"i'm sorry!" you whispered back.

your frightened eyes followed the trail of mist your breath left in the icy air, dazedly. then you squinted against the breeze, trying not to stare at steve. you didn't want him to think you were weird, and you wouldn't ever have been brave enough to talk to him had your friend not begged for her journal back.

steve swallowed. he heard his heart in his ears; thump, thump. he liked the way you wobbled in the cold, nose all scrunched up as if it would somehow keep you warm.

"you want me to go get it?" he asked. "the journal?"

"yes!" you responded. "if you can. please. thank you."

steve dove into the jungle gym and retrieved the diary like it was a matter of national security. when he returned, valiantly, he banged his head against a rung of the jungle gym and hissed. you gasped, the sound a sharp wheeze.

"are you okay?"

"yeah, didn't hurt. s'fine."

he handed you the journal. the tip of your thumb poked his knuckles when you grabbed it. thump, thump.

"okay," you nodded. "well, thanks. thank you."

"yeah, no problem. you- do you need anything else?"

your lips crept up, threatening to make the widest grin you had ever grinned in your life, but you scrunched them down. don't look stupid.

"oh, no, just this. that's okay."

"okay. just checking."

you blinked at him, then sniffled, wiping your sleeve across your nose. "okay, bye."

steve saw an entire life before him, then; prom, marriage, a mortgage. she's so pretty.

"bye."

that's all he said.

steve's friends laughed like hyenas at him once you had gone. and your friend had dove off the jungle gym to chase you across the field and hiss, "hey, y/n, he definitely likes you!"

you weren't so sure. but you wished he did; that you were sure of.

. . .

steve decided he was going to marry you if you said yes. well, in a few years, at least. he definitely wasn't going to ask you before middle school. that was too early.

middle school came and went and he realized that, regretfully, middle school was also too early to ask a girl to marry you. but he wasn't asking you anything. at all. you never talked to him; and he wondered if it was something he did. he saw you in class, and in the hallways. he saw you help your friends carry their books, and pick the fuzz out of their hair when they couldn't see that it was there. you were kind. he watched your presentations and how your hands shook when you spoke. he wondered why you wouldn't talk to him, if it was because you didn't want to.

"she's just quiet, man," his friends would say. "you gotta' approach her. and, i mean, why would you even wanna' be with a girl like that? sounds boring."

after that, he didn't mention you anymore. to anyone. he didn't like it when his friends poked fun at you, and he especially didn't like that he never knew what to say in return. you were shy, it seemed. or, maybe, you just didn't like him.

or, maybe, you've only talked to her once in your life and if you just talked to her again, she would be your friend.

he decided that this was ridiculous. it was better to never speak to you again, and not have to deal with the scorn of rejection from a girl he had been in love with since age ten.

better to say nothing.

. . .

steve's infatuation became impossible to ignore when you started babysitting max mayfield.

in the fall of 1984- your sophomore year- max's mother contracted you (at a very discounted rate) to watch max when billy, her step brother, could not. at first, this wasn't overly often; just the occasional ride to school and microwaved television dinner. you liked max, and despite her cold exterior, she seemed to like you. when billy realized he could get you to watch max more often at even further discounted rate (a.k.a. no rate at all), he forced her on you more often. what were you supposed to do? refuse to watch her, and let her sit at home by herself? knowing max, she wouldn't sit at home, anyway. she would go find trouble. of course you watched her, even when billy gave you no choice.

this is how you ended up babysitting on halloween.

unbeknownst to you, it was steve's neighborhood that you were wandering through that night. max had gone to meet up with her friends; mike wheeler, lucas sinclair, dustin henderson, will byers- whom you had never seen her hang out with before. she seemed to think they would all be happy to see her, but apparently, some of them were not.

"mike is such an asshole," max huffed.

she kicked at the dirt along the side of the road as you walked. you folded your arms over your chest, fists bundled in your sleeves, hair whipping over your eyes. her michael myers mask dangled in your hand. you hadn't expected to be out all night, you hadn't expected to be working on halloween at all. not that you had other plans to attend to, or anything you would rather be doing, but you hadn't dressed for the weather. a zip-up hoodie was all that shielded you from the brisk wind, erring on the side of winter rather than fall that halloween.

"i believe you," you snickered.

"good. i just don't understand why he has to be such a dick. i mean..."

she continued to flay mike as you meandered down the interstate, having wandered completely away from the sidewalk and any neighborhood you were familiar with. anxiety beat in your chest and pooled in your belly. it had to be close to midnight, and you were nowhere near home. you had to turn around.

"hey, max-"

she ignored you for the distraction of flashing red lights. you had come upon a house; swathes of people milling about outside and dancing dangerously close to the uncovered pool. bodies in bloody corsets and leather jackets swarmed the grass and filled up the windows like paintings. your stomach sunk.

this was steve's house. you just knew it. you didn't know how you knew, but you knew. he always had halloween parties, and everybody came to them. and though you hadn't spoken to steve since, well, elementary school, probably- you didn't want him knowing you had nowhere to go on halloween night. and you certainly didn't want to be seen at his halloween party that everybody was invited to except you.

rightfully so. you weren't friends. he wouldn't want to be my friend.

"oh, shit," max murmured. "whose house is this?"

"i don't know," you mustered. "it's late, though. i'd love to berate mike some more, but we should probably head back towards your house while we do it."

"hey!"

oh, god.

"no fuckin' way," a voice surmised, sauntering over with staggering feet. he was tall, lanky like a pole, blonde as cornsilk. he wore a cheap costume- a blue muscle tank and two fraying boxing gloves. a troupe of boys followed him, each drunker than the last. "i know you!"

"do you?" you laughed, trying to sound unphased. you knew him. he was on the basketball team, one of steve's friends, though you didn't know his name. you wondered if you were about to become the victim of some outrageous, hollywood instance of bullying; like when kids got their skulls smashed in lockers or drowned in toilets in movies.

"yeah. you look alright, huh? never seen you out anywhere before, though. what's that costume? some kinda' track girl?"

thump, thump. your heart was in your ears and your throat. they laughed as you gazed over their heads, scanning the yard. thankfully, steve wasn't around. nancy. he was probably with his girlfriend, nancy.

"you're steve's girl," slurred the blonde.

max glowered. "she's what?"

i'm what?

you blinked like your eyelids weighed a thousand pounds. "no, i'm not."

"yeah you are. he talks about you, like, all the fucking time. well, not so much anymore. cuz' of miss nancy."

the troupe of boys fawned and groaned, mocking and kissing. their laughter filled your ears, an awful sound. they were making fun of you, right? they had to be.

"don't be an asshole," griped max.

they laughed even harder.

"seriously, i'm not joking. he's been talking about you for, like, years. he's obsessed."

your cheeks flared hot and red. there was no hiding your humiliation anymore, no reason to pretend you weren't upset. they could see it. everybody could. how is it possible that you could have made such an awful impression in the fourth grade that steve had been making fun of you for six years? was it that obvious that you had a crush on him?

you positioned max on your left to shield her from the drunken boys and tried to walk away.

"y/n-" max lamented.

"it's fine. no big deal," you whispered.

"goddamn," drawled the blonde boy. "makes sense why he gave up on you. can't even hold a conversation. not nearly fuckin' hot enough to be acting like th-"

the punch that followed landed like a hammer on stone.

you whirled around, clutching max by her shoulders like it would do anything to protect her. the sight before you was something out of dreams and nightmares.

the blonde boy was being hoisted off the ground by two scantily clad firemen, blood dripping from the sweaty skin between his upper lip and nostrils. and it had been steve harrington who'd thrown the punch.

he backed up slowly at first, ringing out his fist like a rag. a black suit was snuff against the breadth of his shoulders, dark hair flopping into his eyes. his eyes scrunched up for a moment, lashes fluttering, and he cursed under his breath. damn. that had to hurt.

you pictured a brunette boy with rosy cheeks, squinting through the cold like it burned him, leaning against a jungle gym.

steve looked at you and you backed away like you would be next. obviously, you wouldn't be. but when he looked at you, his eyes were painted red.

"you alright?" his gaze flashed to the little girl beside you, confused. "both of you?"

he was out of breath. suddenly, you were too. what hell is this?

"yeah," you blurted. "yes. we're fine. i'm so sorry, i don't even know what-"

you took to long to finish your thought. i don't even know what's going on, i don't even know what he meant. why have you been making fun of me?

"i don't know what he said," steve panted. "whatever it was, it's bullshit. he's a dick. don't-"

he faltered.

"i'm sorry," steve scathed. "i don't know what all he said."

"it's okay," you shook your head.

"no." he wiped a hand over his eyes. "it's not-"

"harrington!" the blonde boy shouted. "get your ass over here! now!"

steve kept his eyes on you. "you sure you're okay?"

"we're fine," you nodded, pulling max away, eager to be anywhere else. your head was reeling. "we'll go. it's really alright. we'll just go. don't...don't break your hand."

he made an odd face at you; something amused and furious. you spotted a black glint on the ground. his sunglasses.

you picked them up and held them out. he took them, and your thumb brushed against his knuckles.

thump, thump.

"don't break your hand," you repeated. "just, don't- be...i have to get her home. i'm sorry. thank you."

you took off, max dragging behind you, and halfway home she started cackling. "what the hell was that about?"

. . .

the next summer, babysitting max mayfield turned into babysitting all of her friends, and by then, you were irrevocably intertwined with the upside down, steve harrington, and apparently, russia. you'd seen it all. the demogorgon, the demodogs, steve's bat of one-thousand nails. you'd met eleven, whose pixie cut had grown into a bob, and then bangs. you'd watched her move away, the byers along with her. all of it, you had been there for.

but you refused to befriend steve.

it was the most ridiculous situation (as it always was with the two of you) and you had no idea why. you had no idea why his friends had made fun of you at the halloween party, why your one conversation in elementary school had led him to be so disgusted by you, why, no matter what you did; every class attended, every step taken, every word spoken, every alien-abomination killed- led you back to steve harrington.

steve knew why, of course. you were soulmates. but you hated him. so what was he supposed to do about it? you never talked to him; not when you brushed shoulders hiding from demodogs on an abandoned bus, not when you helped haul him out of the starcourt mall movie theater, his intoxicated head bouncing against the crook of your neck.

he thought about that every time he saw you.

and robin buckley knew all about it. when steve finally caved and told her everything, it was clear to her. she knew, without a doubt, that the two of you were just idiots. and no matter how corny it was, you were definitely soulmates. for better, or for worse.

actually, she knew it before he ever told her. all anyone had to do was watch the two of you.

each time you came to scoops ahoy that summer, steve scooped you a serving of black raspberry chip in a plastic bowl, without you having to order. (he'd seen you ask for it once when robin was working the counter, and had prepared it for you every time since). you were polite each time, saying thank you, you didn't have to do that. and steve would say, oh, no problem. you would turn to whichever kid you were babysitting that day and say, it's my favorite. and each time, steve would smile. but he would turn away and pretend to be scrubbing the sink- which made you think you had pavloved him into giving you your favorite ice cream each time he saw you, that you were holding him hostage somehow, because he pitied you.

this was not the case.

on the occasions in which upside-down business relegated you to riding in steve's car, you always sat in the back, passenger's side, where he could see you in the mirror. steve prefered to drive with the windows down. but his eyes would flick to the mirror, to where you sat in the back. when your hair swallowed your head, the summer breeze blowing it into your eyes and mouth, you never complained. but steve always watched. he rolled the windows up whenever the wind was too strong, without a word.

there was more. when you climbed the rope out of the upside-down into eddie's trailer, he lingered below, hands outstretched incase you fell. when you accidentally snagged your finger on a splinter at the creel house, he set down band-aids and neosporin on the coffee table, and waited around the corner incase you asked for help.

he recognized your favorite shirts. he never touched you without asking, even on accident, even to help. he never made a joke without looking to see if you were laughing. he listened to every word you spoke; to him, to the others, to yourself, but he never pried. he never sat close to nancy when you were in the same room, or robin, even- on the off chance you thought there was something there. he knew your favorite songs, and would search for them on the radio without saying anything. and when you were in danger, he always got you behind him; even if you didn't notice.

"grow the fuck up, steve, just TALK to her."

steve blinked, robin's open-mouthed expression the picture of exhaustion. he swallowed.

"yeah, whatever. okay? i'm not scared."

"don't be dense."

"i'm not dense."

"just tell her you like her," robin huffed.

they were folding clothes at the school, putting them in boxes to donate. vecna had torn a hole in the sky, crimson kindling behind the pewter clouds outside. a storm was coming. things might never get back to normal.

there might never be another moment quiet enough to tell you the truth.

steve nodded. "yeah," he muttered, not unkind. "i guess you're right."

robin threw a bra at him.

. . .

what kind of creep would follow you home in the middle of the apocalypse?

you balled your fists at your sides, charging ahead. the wheeler's house was only a block away, and with no car, you had to go on foot to pick up the remainder of their donations. you were out of breath, sweat beading on the back of your neck, happy and angry to be alone all at the same time. the sky looked like it was bleeding, and everything was changing. so much had already changed, but nothing that you wanted to.

you were aware of the guy's presence behind you, his body a wall of heat, his shadow casting a long grey ghost on the pavement in front of you. his hair flopped over his eyes like some sort of catalogue model, the imprints of his sleeves shown rolled up to his elbows. what a dick.

he'd been following you for about thirty seconds. you were the only person sent to the wheeler's to gather donations, and if this stranger had tagged along for that purpose, he would have told you by now.

you sped up. he sped up. you started running. he reached out his hand, as if to grab the back of your jeans.

you hauled around a wound up a smack that would tattoo your palm-print on his cheek forever.

steve seized your arm.

"what the hell?"

you sucked in a breath. "steve?"

"jesus christ," he panted, glancing between your eyes and your wrist inside his fingers. "you could have killed me."

"oh my god," you breathed out. he released you instantly, and you put your hands on your knees, bending. "oh my god."

"are you okay?"

"shut up! just shut up!"

"okay," he nodded. "okay. just-" he rubbed a hand down his face. "jesus, fuck," he murmured.

"i'm sorry," you stood. lunged closer, lungs deflated like old balloons. "steve. oh my god. i'm sorry."

"no!" he scoffed. "don't be sorry. it's my fault. fuck. i don't know why i didn't say anything, i should have said something."

"i thought you were following me!"

"i was," he nodded. swallowed, like there was a rock in his mouth.

you panted. "oh."

"well, yeah, i-" he squinted. for the briefest, briefest moment, his pupils flicked from your eyes to your lips, swollen in the sun. "fuck."

it was enough. that, right there, that was enough. you suddenly understood.

you saw that stupid brunette boy squinting on the playground, his lips chapped from the cold, his cheeks red as irons. you saw him with blood on his knuckles, staggering away from the friend he had just mauled. you saw his hand outstretched; handing you ice cream, opening the car door, lingering around your wrist.

he hadn't been making fun of you all those years. he liked you.

idiot.

everything bubbled to the surface; you had so much to say but so little at the same time. you were so embarassed, still embarassed, after all this time, after everything.

stop it, you thought. get over it. do something.

so you made a choice.

"kiss me."

his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "sorry?"

you couldn't even repeat it. nerves shot through you like lightning, seizing your heart, making your hands shake.

"if you want to, i mean. obviously. i thought- only if you want to-"

"i want to," he breathed.

"you do?"

"are you kidding me? are you joking?"

you grimaced. "no."

"y/n," steve softened. like a lament, like it was the first time he'd ever said your name. his brows knit together.

he didn't finish his thought. he just did what you asked.

when he kissed you, the two of you locked into place; slotted together like twin shards of broken glass, reunited. his mouth was surprisingly cool despite the blazing heat around you, like his nervousness was palpable, cold to the touch. his hands shook, grazing over your shoulders, your waist, the back of your neck, unsure of where to touch first, like he wouldn't have the chance to touch you anywhere ever again. he landed with one hand on the back of your neck, your hair spilling between his fingers, and the other around your waist, holding you close.

you ducked away for a breath and thought he might cry.

"i have to ask you," you panted.

"yeah, anything," steve breathed.

"at the halloween party, when you hit that guy. you liked me."

"what? of course. always. i always have. i should have said so. i'm so stupid."

"no, you're not. don't say that."

his hands shifted, palms on either side of your face.

"but you weren't making fun of me," you said, even though it was stupid. his pupils were darting across every point of your face- your nose, your cheeks, your chin. "and he wasn't making fun of me. not until the end, at least."

steve's face crumpled. "you're killing me, y/n."

"he meant it?" you grinned. "you did like me? the whole time?"

"for a decade, killer." he grimaced. "stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"like that's a good thing. i should've killed him for talking to you like that."

"no," you laughed, because he obviously didn't mean it.

"yeah, i should have. yes."

maybe he did mean it.

you kissed him this time, and you felt him shudder; his fingers twitching across your face. when you pulled back, he ran his fingers over your closed eyes, grazing your eyelashes.

"i'm sorry," he whispered.

"me too," you said softly. "i should have said something."

"no," he shook his head. "no. that's on me."

the two of you sat there for a moment longer. the sky had darkened overhead, the crimson behind the clouds now a shade the color of wine, dark and murky. heat lightning flashed like sirens. hawkins was imploding.

"this town is ridiculous," you muttered.

"i know," steve huffed. like he'd been waiting years to say it. "it's hot as hell. where are you going?"

"the wheeler's, for donations."

"i'll walk you. if you want. next to you, though, not behind you like a creep."

you tried not to grin. "oh, will you?"

steve shook his head, casting you an incredulous look as he fell in line beside you on the sidewalk. "nothing you say could embarrass me, at this point. absolutely nothing."

"why not?"

because i was right, he wanted to say. because i've known we were soulmates since the fourth grade.

actually, it was still extremely embarrassing, so he kept the thought to himself- despite the enormous amount of relief and euphoria it brought him. you'd missed prom, but marriage and a mortgage didn't seem so far off, as long as the world didn't end.

steve just shook his head instead. "nothing. hey, are you following me?"

"shut up!"

. . .

i haven't written in so long i hope this is similar to what you asked for!!! i wanted to write more than just a drabble so i expanded on it i hope that's okay. much love. mwah

#steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington drabble #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

[dinas-a-bird]

A Rocky Start - 1

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Warnings: mean!Ellie (at the start), modern college AU, Ellie is handsome because I say so

Summary: You start college and meet your roommate, Ellie Williams.

Word Count: 957

two three four

A/N: Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I already have this entire fic written but I'm not going to post it all at the same time... sorry 😅

It is a hot August day as you step out of your parents' car and look up at the towering buildings of your new home for the next four years - college. You had dreamed of this moment for so long, imagining all the new experiences, new people, and the newfound freedom. As you hoist your backpack on your shoulder and make your way towards the dorms, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves.

The campus is buzzing with activity as students and their families scurry around, hauling boxes, and saying goodbye to loved ones. You make your way to the check-in desk where you are greeted by a friendly-faced orientation leader who hands you your room key and a map of the campus.

You take in a deep breath and make your way to your new room, unlocking the door and stepping inside. It is small and sparse, but it will be home for the next few months. You start to unpack your belongings, feeling a little lonely and overwhelmed.

Suddenly, there is a loud knock at the door. You look up to see a girl with short auburn hair standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. "Hey, you're the new girl, right?" she says bluntly.

You nod, your mouth going dry. God she’s handsome. "Yeah, this is my first semester. My name's y/n."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm Ellie. Just so you know, I don't do the whole 'welcome wagon' thing. So don't expect any baked goods or any of that crap."

You raise your eyebrows. "Okay...I'll keep that in mind. You're my roommate then?"

Ellie nods, pushing past you and plopping down on her own bed, not bothering to introduce herself further. You don’t know what to make of her, but one thing was clear - she isn’t going to make your transition into college life easy.

You start to feel a knot forming in your stomach, wondering how you're going to survive the next few months with this girl as your roommate. You decide to try and break the tension by starting a conversation.

"So, what are you studying?" you ask, sitting down on your own bed.

Ellie gives you a look of annoyance. "Astronomy and Astrophysics. What about you?"

"I'm undeclared at the moment," you reply, feeling a little embarrassed.

Ellie scoffs. "Figures. Well, good luck with that. College is tough, and if you don't know what you want to do, you're screwed."

You start to feel even more intimidated by Ellie's blunt demeanor. "Is it okay if I put up some pictures on the wall?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

Ellie shrugs. "I don't care. Just don't make it look like a kindergarten classroom."

You try to ignore her attitude and start unpacking your pictures and posters. As you start to decorate your side of the room, you notice that Ellie is staring at you.

"What?" you ask, feeling self-conscious.

Ellie shrugs. "It's just weird seeing someone actually care about how their room looks. Most people just throw their crap around and call it a day."

You start to feel a glimmer of hope that maybe you and Ellie can find some common ground. "Yeah, I just want it to feel like home, you know?"

Ellie nods, her expression softening slightly. "I get that. Home is important."

You smile, feeling a little more at ease. "So, do you have any tips for surviving college?"

Ellie leans back on her bed, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, don't drink too much, don't procrastinate, and don't rely on anyone else to do your work for you."

You nod, taking in her advice. "Thanks, that's good to know. So, do you have any plans for the weekend?"

Ellie shrugs. "Not really. Maybe hit up a party or two. You?"

You shake your head. "I don't really know anyone yet."

Ellie raises an eyebrow. "Well, we can't have that, can we? Have to change that soon."

You can't help but feel a little surprised by her sudden change in attitude. "Yeah, that would be nice. How do you usually meet people?"

Ellie smirks. "Parties are always a good bet. But if that's not your scene, there are other ways. Join a club, volunteer, or just strike up a conversation with someone in class."

You nod, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Ellie nods in response, her eyes scanning your side of the room. "So, what else do you like? Any hobbies, interests?"

You think for a moment before answering. "I like reading, listening to music, and watching movies. And I've always been interested in writing, but I'm not very good at it."

Ellie raises an eyebrow. "You should join the writing club on campus. I heard they're pretty good."

You feel a spark of excitement at the suggestion. "Really? That sounds cool. Do you think they would let me join even though I'm not majoring in English or anything?"

Ellie rolls her eyes. "Of course, they would. They're not that exclusive. Just go to one of their meetings and see if it's something you're interested in."

You nod, feeling a sense of motivation to try something new. "Thanks, Ellie. I think I'll do that."

Ellie nods in response before checking her phone. "Hey, I gotta run. I have a meeting with my advisor in ten minutes. Talk later?"

You smile and nod, feeling grateful for the unexpected conversation. "Sure, sounds good. Thanks again."

As Ellie exits the room, relief washes over you. Maybe you and your new roommate could find some common ground after all. You finish up decorating your side of the room and take a moment to sit back and take it all in. It's not much, but it's a start.

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x female y/n #ellie williams x female reader #female y/n #female reader #reader insert #y/n #dinas-a-bird

[byjwn]

박성훈 envy of you

sunghoon x fem! reader .. fluff, popular boy and unknown girl au. minimal cursing. she envied the life that he lived and wanted everything that he had, without knowing that he felt the same way.

you hated park sunghoon. you hated almost everything about him. but you only hated him because of how much you admired him and the life lived. you watched him and his best friend, nishimura riki, laugh and tease each other as they sat at the front of the class. you always wondered what it was like to have a super close friend like that. the last friend you could recall was in kindergarten, but she moved away to the states not too long after you had befriended her. ever since then, you have been alone. nobody ever really noticed you. you were practically non-existent to everyone at school, or so you thought.

sunghoon on the other hand was the most known guy in school. everyone loved him and would throw themselves at him just to get a single “hello.” you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t understand why people liked him so much, but you did understand. just looking at him was an honor because of how beautiful he was. he was also one of the nicest guys you have ever come across. you haven’t spoken a single word to him and he hasn’t spoken one to you either, but overhearing all the conversations he has with other students, you can tell how genuine he was. park sunghoon was the closest to the definition of perfect you can get.

you averted your gaze from the duo to look at the blank piece of paper on your desk that was supposed to be filled with notes. you frowned, tapping your pen repeatedly on your desk. as you continued to stare at your paper, you had an odd feeling that someone was staring at you, so you looked up. your eyes examined every student in your class, but they were all too busy to pay attention to you in the slightest.

the school day had finally reached its end and you were making your way to the bus stop. you were typically the only one who rode the bus to school and back home since everyone else got a ride from their parents or friends. you finally decided to look up from your feet when you noticed a muscular body standing at the bus stop. the closer you walked, the more you recognized this figure. park sunghoon. ‘what is he doing here? he never takes the bus.’ you thought to yourself, reaching the bus stop but keeping a decent distance between you and him. you stared back at your feet to avoid him looking at you, not that he would even think to anyway.

“do you usually take the bus?” you heard his kind voice ask you. your breath hitched as you struggled to spit out words in response. you took a quick glance at him, and he gave you an inviting smile, before nodding yes. he shook his head in agreement, “that’s cool. this is my first time taking it actually.” you stayed silent, hoping that he wouldn’t make any more small talk so you could escape this confusing dream.

the bus finally showed up and you quickly made your way into the bus, sitting all the way in the back. little did you expect that park sunghoon would sit one seat away from you. he turned to look at you, again with that beautiful smile of his, “you’re y/n, right?” “how do you know my name?” you questioned him back. he let out a soft chuckle, “i know not many people talk to you or anything, but don’t think anyone doesn’t know you exist.”

"well i wouldn’t really expect someone as popular as you to know i exist," you responded with a frown, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. "it’s really not all that great being popular, you know. your friends aren’t really your friends. they just want that status too." you furrowed your eyebrows, "what do you mean?" "i mean, they just want to be popular and have this big group of friends. it almost makes them feel cool. in all honesty, i’d rather be like you. quiet and reserved with nobody to bug me." you were shocked, to say the least. park sunghoon said he wanted to be like you rather than experience the life he has right now. "you really don’t, sunghoon. i want friends like you do. nobody even pays attention to me but everyone loves you."

“you don’t.”

you haven’t spoken to sunghoon since that day you rode the bus together. you’ve seen him multiple times in school, but he hasn’t even attempted to spare a single glance at you. you couldn’t help but feel sad at how she could say such a thing and then never even look at you again.

you sat at an empty lunch table, picking at your food with your fork but not having a big enough appetite to eat it. all you could think about was park sunghoon and that conversation you two shared. “is this seat taken?”, you heard the familiar voice say from above you before being accompanied by another body sitting next to you. speak of the devil, park sunghoon. “why are you sitting here?” you asked him, going back to picking at your food. “well it doesn’t look like anyone else was sitting here, so why not?” he said before digging into his average lunch meal. you looked behind you to spot sunghoon’s usual lunch table where he eats and hangs out with his other friends. all their eyes were on you with a glaring look.

“your friends don’t look too happy that you’re sitting with me.” “fuck them. i want to feel normal for once” he said with his mouthful of rice before chugging down half the bottle of his water. you chuckled at the cute bunny looking boy and began chowing down on your own food.

ever since then, you and sunghoon became closer and closer every day. you could tell that you were starting to fall for him and you liked to think that he felt the same way. “what are you gonna do now? since your friends don’t like you anymore.” sunghoon raised his eyebrows at your sudden question, “hang with you, of course. i prefer it this way anyway.” sunghoon smirked as he saw the blush start to creep on your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. he began to speak again, “i think this is what i needed. i needed you. i feel so more alive when i’m with you and i never want that to change”

you looked up at sunghoon before nodding your head, agreeing that you felt the exact same way. sunghoon grabbed the side of your face and caressed your cheek as he observed how beautiful you were, “and what if i told you i wanted to be something more?”

authors note ; i cant really tell if i like this or not lol but let me know what you guys think. i’m gonna try and be more active just because i really want to write more as it’s a fun hobby of mine. requests are open btw so feel free to send some or even just can’t with me through my ask box !

#enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen texts #enhypen writers #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon fluff

[olympeline]

I can see why The Parent Trap became such a staple AU for FACE family FrUK. It’s just too good to resist 😍 Here’s my version:

Francis and Arthur meet when they start attending the same London university: Francis to study fashion, Arthur journalism. Over the next four years they have a classic “enemies to lovers” relationship. They’re a couple by the time they graduate, but an immature and stormy one. Lots of fights, lots of near break ups, lots of making up. They get married early and start living together early, which was probably a mistake as neither were ready for it. They move to Paris (part of the reason for early marriage was visa based) and live together in a tiny, shitty apartment. Lots of up and downs, but life is generally good. Their relationship slowly improves, they grow together and stop fighting so much

Then they have their first real difference of opinion beyond just a spat: Francis has always wanted kids and wants to have them young. Arthur was more unsure, preferring to wait until they were older and settled. Deep down he’s afraid of losing Francis, and so gives in sooner than he should. Francis notices, but lies to himself about the depth of Arthur’s discomfort because he wants children so badly. Again, the immaturity and lack of communication hobbles them. If this problem had come up later, say in their early thirties rather than twenties, they could have handled it and compromised. But it didn’t, so a kid is on the way

Either this is set a little in the future, or Arthur is still his wizard self, but by science or magic they have a pair of twins. Born by surrogate, but Alfred and Matthew are biologically theirs. Alfred resembles Arthur more, Matthew takes after Francis. It doesn’t matter; both dads adore each baby so much it hurts

Unfortunately, this doesn’t stop things getting tough straight away, not in the least because they were only expecting one baby. They planned for one, budgeted for one, then got double. They might have coped, but then Francis’s fledgling fashion business gets an irresistible offer from a company in Quebec. Arthur really doesn’t want to leave France, but grudgingly agrees. They move when the boys are barely toddlers and the stress gets even worse. Moving to a new continent with twin babies and stretched finances? Cracks are starting to appear in the marriage for real by this point

Still, Francis and Arthur cope and hold their relationship together. They’re having problems, but neither wants to split up. They still love each other dearly. Also they have kids now. Even if the love had died, they’d want to try and make it work for their sake. They struggle on for a while and keep their heads above water. Both are too stubborn and proud to get therapy because that would mean admitting how bad things were getting between them.

Then, bombshell: Arthur gets a huge opportunity…but it would mean moving to New York for a year. And after everything, this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Francis doesn’t want to leave Canada because it could have a bad effect on his growing business. Also the boys would be starting kindergarten soon and Francis doesn’t want to uproot them again. Arthur argues he already did the same for Francis, and they’d be back soon anyway. And a boost to Arthur’s career would help set them up for the future, so Alfred and Matthew would benefit in the long run. They can’t agree and things get heated as the deadline for Arthur to accept approaches. Both accuse the other of being selfish and unreasonable. It snowballs from there. Long simmering resentments boil over. They can’t communicate well enough to get through this. One of them leaves to stay with a friend, then just never comes back to live at their apartment. Soon they’re living separate lives and only communicating about the boys. It’s unbearable, unsustainable. Break up. Divorce. The court awards each of them one twin. Arthur takes Alfred and moves to NYC, Francis stays in Quebec with Matthew.

Years pass, the twins start to grow up. There’s so much hurt and bitterness that communication between Francis and Arthur completely breaks down before the boys are old enough to remember their other parent. By the time they start elementary school, it’s total scorched earth. Francis and Arthur just refuse to talk about each other. Alfred bombards Arthur with questions, but his dad is a stone wall. Gentler Matthew gives up more quickly, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less curious. Eventually even Alfred has to give in. The twins accept that their “other dad” will always be a mystery

Life settles. Francis’s fashion label blooms and he and Matthew live a charmed life as Quebec upper crust. Meanwhile, Arthur gets work at a prestigious newspaper and writes historical nonfiction novels in his spare time. Alfred goes to public school and is a loud, joyous, ball of endless energy. Matthew goes to private school and is sweet, academic and well behaved, but so shy.

Both dads watch their son grow with pride. They seem happy, and sometimes they are, but in their private moments, the pain is still there. Francis is better at hiding his emotions than Arthur, while Matthew notices more than Alfred. So each twin knows their father is wistful. Thet can guess it’s about their “other dad.” Alfred and Matthew try to cheer up their dads in their own ways, but the hurt remains

Francis and Arthur never have any other long term relationships. Francis has no trouble finding partners, but nothing sticks. Matthew is secretly glad, then feels bad about it. He wants his papa to be happy but the thought of a stepfather/mother scares him. Meanwhile, Arthur’s dating life is a disaster and after a few years he just gives up on finding new love. Alfred is fine with them being a family of two. He likes having his dad’s attention focused on him rather than some lame boyfriend

That all changes when, after a night of commiseration and far too much whiskey, Arthur ends up in bed with Antonio. Antonio is a fellow immigrant and friend of a work friend, who happens to be going through his own disastrous love life problems. They met through Romano, who works at Arthur’s newspaper as a caustic restaurant critic. Arthur reminds Antonio of Romano, Antonio reminds Arthur of Francis. They’re both lonely and needy. It should have been just a one night stand, but they cling to each other and start a relationship (wrong tsundere, Antonio!) Romantically it’s not good and everyone can see there’s no real spark. But Arthur and Antonio’s hearts are raw by this point and they dive into denial and start living together. Antonio is good with kids and Arthur thinks two parents will make for a better life for his handful of a son. Alfred likes Antonio, but he doesn’t think he should be his stepdad. Nevertheless, Arthur and Antonio get engaged but never set a date

Life settles, life goes on. Arthur starts sending Alfred to summer camp, which he loves. Francis gets a school report that Matthew is a lovely, polite boy, but he could do with trying to be a little more extroverted and making more friends. Francis decides to send him to a highly reviewed summer camp just across the border

At long last, Alfred and Matthew finally meet, and…! Instantly loathe each other. Total antipathy. Alfred sees Mattie as a boring, sissy, goody-two-shoes who just wants to spoil everyone’s fun. Matthew sees Alfred as a loud, obnoxious, dumb, jerk jock who doesn’t care what happens to anyone else so long as he gets to do what he wants. An intense rivalry begins. Neither boy realises how much their lives are about to change

(This is getting really long so stay tuned for part 2! (´ε｀ )♡)

#hetalia #fruk #face family #hws france #hws england #hws america #hws canada #aph france #aph england #aph america #aph canada #parent trap au #my posts #spamano

[cafeseoulmate]

baby bear

established relationship au; Why We (Don’t) Work standalone bonus; wc: 773

If there is one habit that Beomgyu brought from your childhood to adulthood, from your years of strictly platonic friendship to almost a month of officially dating now, it’s the way he would not hesitate to trade you to Satan if it means getting your old teddy bear, Ms. Fluffy.

The little white and red teddy was actually a gift from his mom to you back when your respective parents were still the ones picking out your gifts for your schoolmates and writing the gift tags as if you were the ones who prepared them. You were in kindergarten back then and though you weren’t in the same section, little Beomgyu still insisted to Mrs. Choi that they buy you something, anything to show you that he considered you close enough to buy you a holiday gift.

Mrs. Choi ended up picking out Ms. Fluffy for you when Beomgyu then mentioned how you sometimes complained about having trouble sleeping during class nap times, something you’d scold him for later because you thought that was embarrassing (regardless of how much he reassured you that it isn’t).

Then the name Ms. Fluffy, proudly given by your six-year-old self way back then, is from the fact that her fur is exceptionally soft and her ears stick out from all the times you’ve picked on them nervously. Beomgyu used to teased you for it during sleepovers but you always manage to eavesdrop on him affectionately calling the teddy bear by its name with a higher-pitched voice when he thinks you’re not in the room or not paying attention.

Though it’s a gift from him to you, it does often feel like he just had his mom buy it for you to have an excuse to have a teddy bear. You’re pretty sure if your boyfriend were to choose between saving you and Ms. Fluffy from drowning, he’s probably going after your teddy bear first.

He always moves her little arms and legs to imitate walking and dancing, conjures up a specific high-pitched voice as if to make her talk, hugs her to his chest whenever he’s in your dorm or at your house, and shamelesslt borrows and steals her before you could leave for a trip.

And, naturally, since you started dating officially last Christmas break, Beomgyu’s obsession with Ms. Fluffy has grown exponentially worse.

You don’t know if you’re going to be endeared or annoyed specifically with how he always places the teddy bear either between the two of you or on your laps during movie nights, calling the teddy bear your baby and treating her like she’s actually your child accompanying you on your stay-home dates.

It makes your heart flutter, of course, but when you do actually want to hug Ms. Fluffy, Beomgyu’s somehow always objecting to it.

“She’s my kid originally, why can’t I hug my own kid?” You pout, playing along to Beomgyu’s antics in the hopes that he would give in this time. Tonight, Insidious is streaming on Beomgyu’s laptop because you both thought that your respective cowardice would cancel each other out. “Let me have Ms. Fluffy, Gyu!”

Beomgyu, however, stubborn as he is, pouts back even harder while keeping Ms. Fluffy in place between the two of you. “Uh, no, she stays in the middle.” He insists for the second time, patting Ms. Fluffy’s head. “Let her watch the movie in peace, Y/N. What if she wants to actually sit through a horror movie?”

“What if she gets scared like me, though? Look at her, she’ll need hugs too!”

“Then I’ll hug you both like this!” Your boyfriend then circles his arms over you, his hoodie sleeves covering Ms. Fluffy just as the doorbell starts ringing in the movie. “See? I’ll just protect you both!”

You scoff teasingly, though you do already feel your insides melting at the gesture. “I want to hug just Ms. Fluffy, though.”

He glares down at you immediately in response. “I’ll divorce you and take custody of Ms. Fluffy.” He threatens, making you stifle a giggle. “I’m being serious, Y/N!”

Serious Beomgyu, however, is always an adorable sight to see with his pout and his furrowed brows, so much so that you easily break character after this and reach a hand up to pinch his cheeks. “You’re so cute.”

“Hug me back, then! I’m not waiting all day!”

“Fine, fine, you grumpy baby.” You roll your eyes, picking up Ms. Fluffy from between the two of you and directing her arms to Beomgyu’s neck before hugging the two. “Better?”

“Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to watch a movie anymore. Let’s just cuddle, I think Ms. Fluffy would also agree.”

“Agreed.”

barista’s notes: merry christmas everyone! 💗🎄

#cafeseoulmate #tomorrow x together #txt #txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt fluff #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt x you #txt oneshots #txt timestamps #txt fics #txt au #txt angst #txt soft hours #txt sad hours #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #tomorrow x together beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu au #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu oneshots #beomgyu fics #beomgyu timestamps #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fluff

[nelapanela94]

EVENT'S MASTERLIST

⭐ You're safe with me - Only your eyes are made to read Levi's soul, only you can soothe the storm within him. TW: Fluff, a bit of angst. [WC: 1360]

⭐ Much better - While stargazing, ethanol clouds your judgment, and you and Levi end up saying things you might regret later. TW: Fuff. [WC: 1k]

⭐ You know where to find me - TW: Angst, Modern AU [WC: 2.5k]

⭐ Our names carved in the ring - TW: SMUT, MDNI. Soft, mawkish smut Oral(Fem!Receiving). Mentions of abusive relationship. [WC: 6K]

⭐It'd be a waste of good tea - TW: Fluff, depiction of injuries. [WC: 1500K]

⭐ Why do you keep pushing people away? - You had misunderstood him, or so you believed. But you can't no longer avoid him, Levi is impeled to face his own feelings and confess. - TW: Angst, hurt confort [ W.C: 1.2k]

⭐ A weak linger of chocolate - You can't see his face painted on the wall, but not because you hate him; you hate you can't drown the feelings you hold for him. But one day the wrangle is sealed in the tenderness of a kiss. TW: Enemies to lovers, fluff [W.C: 1.3k]

OMG you lovely apple pies!!! Thank you so much for this :') you guys spike the motivación I need to keep writing. This wouldn't be possible without you.

And...

in celebration of this blog reaching 1k followers, I'm holding a milestone event!!! (My very first event, indeed :3) So, from the list below, you'll pick and send me a prompt and I'll give them back in the form of drabbles.

Please, read the guidelines before sending a request.

I only write for Levi Ackerman since he's the only character I feel comfortable writing for;

You may choose maximum 2 prompts from the list, and they can either be from the same category or a mix. (e.g.: 1 + 10 or 42 + 50)

The drabbles will be up to 1000 words, though they could be longer if I'm riding an inspo wave;

You must be 18+ to send a prompt from the S.M.U.T list, and that being the case, I will not answer this kind of requests sent by anons or from ageless blogs.

The event is open until October 4th 2022

FLUFF

"Are you blushing? Disgusting"

"Is he really just a friend?" "Are you jealous?"

“I can't think straight with you!"

"Can I hug you?"

"Dance with me."

"You know I'm not like that."

“You shouldn’t hide that dimple.”

“Because of people like you shampoo bottles come with instructions.”

“Get your filthy hands off me!”

“Sometimes I wonder if you graduated kindergarten.”

“I don’t know whether to hit you or to kiss you.”

"Have you seen my hoodie?"

“I’d build you a palace.”

“I don’t bite. Not too much.”

“What I fear the most is to close my eyes and never see you again.”

“I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

“Come here.”

“You’re safe with me.”

"Is it a date?" "If you want it to be a date."

“Tell me a story.”

“You’re like a bad case of lice. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“I don’t want us to be that mawkish couple.” “I think we are already.”

“The blankets aren’t just yours!”

“I’m cold.”

“Do you even know how to do laundry?”

“We could go together… I mean, only if you want to.”

“When you're with me you don’t have to pretend.”

"When will you shut up and kiss me?"

ANGST

29. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” 30. "I know you still love me." 31. "Not everyone is going to hurt you." 32. "You deserve more." 33. "What do you mean by that?" 34. “Why do you keep pushing people away?”. 35. “No one deserves to be that lonely.” 36. "Don’t go. Don’t you dare leave me.” 37. “You broke my heart and all you can say is ‘I’m sorry’?” 38. “Mom asked about you again.” 39. “There was never an us.” 40. “He/she is using you. You can’t be that blind.” 41. “Make up your mind.” 42. “I’m getting married.” 43. “I thought I could get over you. You just prove me wrong.” 44. "You are more than one night stand."

SMUT

45.“The only way you’re getting off tonight is on my thigh.” 46. “You make a sound and it’s all over.” 47. “You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?” 48. “Can he make you feel this good?” 49. “You deserve no less than this.” 50. “Leave before we wake up regretting this.” 51. “Don’t pull away.” 52. "I didn't know you were so sensitive?" 53. "Don't leave any marks."

Once again, thank you so much!!!!!!🥹

#Levi ackerman #Milestone event

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Remember a Time iv

Mini Series:  (Pt.1), (P.t 2), (P.t 3), (P.t 5)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader

(High School Au)

Word count: 2400 

A/N: This story literally keeps me up at night it’s so fun writing this one. Anyways into all the high school angst, I had some time to come up with the plot of this chapter, and Id I do say so myself I think its pretty darn good. I hope you guys like it. P.s Trust the process ;) (Week 1/5)

It didn’t take long for news to spread. People found out who Natasha was and how you knew her thanks to Tony not being able to keep his mouth shut. But that wasn’t even the news that you were worried about. What had truly startled you was news regarding Wanda, or more so who she was now dating. Your thoughts were interrupted with Pietro walking in and rather tactlessly setting his hand on the table in front of you. “Alright, you better tell me what’s going on between you and Wanda.” He huffs out annoyed. “Well hi Pietro how are you? Good morning to you too, no no really it’s no bother sit please it would be my pleasure.” You say sarcastically with a patronizing smile on your face. He sighs rolling his eyes. “You know I don’t even want to know, can you just apologize so that we can all go back to enjoying our senior year!?” He exclaimed. It wasn’t till that very moment that you realized how truly pissed you were. 

You’d done nothing wrong, except perhaps falling for the girl. She on the other hand could not say that, she’d wronged you not the other way around. The cherry on top, was that she decided to date the one guy that it would actually hurt to see her with. The one person that you actually  harbored ill will towards. After that fatal day in Kindergarten the relationship with Vision hadn’t blossomed. To this day it’s what you’re both known for the rivalry, that everyone thought was friendly even though you both very much knew that It never was. Not that either of you would ever admit it. Both of you could barely stand to be in the same room as the other and that said a lot. And now, she your ‘best friend’ Wanda was dating him. It was your turn to slam your hand down. “I did nothing wrong…” You spoke through gritted teeth. You stood gathering your stuff from the table not sparing him another glance. “And, tell her to stay the-fuck away from me.” You said rather loudly as you were leaving the library. 

What you wished you noticed was that half the senior class was present in the room. Later on you also wished you noticed how much this situation disgustingly mirrors every single coming of age teen movie. It wasn't till you sat down with Nat and watched an oddly accurate play by play of what was currently going on. Wanda on the other hand could not stop thinking about you, it was crazy how much time she spent thinking of you. She started wondering when you'd consumed her thoughts, all her current free time was giving her time to think. She'd been short with Pietro after he told her about Natasha more so who she was to you. Suddenly, a fear settled on her shoulders, now the name resonated within her, it was ‘her’ your one. She remembered when you came out to her. How you’d explained that you liked girls, how you felt differently with Natasha, how friendship came so easily, how if she weren’t gone you’d still be enthralled by her. How you’d be head over heels for her. Now the idea of that being true scared her, she didn’t know why, but it did. 

She’d gone out with Vision and unfortunately it was a small world and everybody seemed to be at the pizza place where Vision had suggested they meet. He was nice, and somehow also managed to make her laugh and forget about what was currently going on. He was nice and smart and goofy, well that last one was attributed to how oblivious he could be. It was cute, and she had a nice time so she decided to say yes, to another outing the next weekend. It was finally the next week and she hadn’t stopped texting you, or calling, she even resorted to sending mail to your island on animal crossing. At this point she was really depending on your addiction to the game. It was Monday and she was in the library checking out her weekly books. She sighed immediately when she heard her brother walk in. It was only when she saw him approach you that she questioned whether or not to go save you. Only when she noticed that the conversation was heated did she decide not to add wood to the fire and keep her distance. She was confused as to why you were so angry at what Pietro told you. 

Then she saw you clench your jaw and slam your hands on the table. All she and everybody else in the library managed to hear was. “And, tell her to stay the-fuck away from me!” Her heart sank at your words, more so the way you said it. She'd never seen that side of you well she has but it was never directed at her. 

When you walked out of the library Natasha was already there waiting for you. "So are we finally going to talk about it?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. You sighed knowing you weren't going to escape this anymore. You'd been skillfully evading her questioning, which only really resulted in you hanging out more and more with Yelena. "Why do we need to dredge up the past? There's no need. I'm okay and over it already." She huffs out annoyed. She calls your bluff easily and just walks away without saying a word. She didn't even take three steps before you were already calling after her. She couldn't hide the small smile on her face as she turned around. Her smile was contagious and it made you crack a smile too.  

"I forget you know me… too well." You sighed "Nice try. Spill now!" You laughed, raising your hands in defense. “Well I know we haven’t really caught up, but I’m sure you realized that… I swing both ways.” You say trying to not be weird about it. “No, no Y/n I haven’t, what does swing both ways mean?” She asks coyly. It’s only after she starts laughing that you realize she was messing with you. “Asshole.” You murmur. “Yup, now keep going.” You proceed to tell her about the incident, of course leaving out a key detail. She only follows up with “Well that's shitty.” You nod realizing that you’d made it all the way back to her car. She opens the passenger door for you and you step in thanking her without a second thought. It’s only when she sits and buckles up that she turns to you, a serious look on her face. “Why does it bother you so much?” She asks. Quickly she elaborates. “You don’t seem like the type to get hung up on what people think of you.” 

She was way too perceptive. You didn’t answer, she seemed like she had more to say. “Don’t get me wrong it is a shitty thing to say to your friend, but still you don’t seem like the type to give a fuck about things like that.” You sigh, muttering “I know.” It was true you’ve never given a second thought as to how people saw you. She smiles at your admission proving her right once again. “Okay then, So why her?” She asks digging in deeper, rubbing your head you mumble a small ‘I don't know’ She tries again, so you give her the same answer again. You don’t really know how it escalated, or how you ended up yelling your secret at her face. Her face just made you want to cry. She was hurt. You yelled at her and she was hurt. “I’m so sorry Natasha I shouldn’t have yelled that at you.” She shakes her head finally unclenching her jaw and fists. “I shouldn’t have insisted, you didn’t want to tell me and I pushed.” She seemed to regret even asking you to explain in the first place. You try to rebut, but she stops you. “I would be mad too If the person I loved… Did that.” 

The rest of the drive home was silent, only this time the silence was suffocating you. It was making you feel awkward like you had somehow betrayed her. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll be over in a couple of hours to bug you and Yelena, well I guess mostly Yelena.” You corrected making her laugh. You took the moment to admire her and you smiled, taking the time to apologize. “I’m very sorry for blowing up on you, I will never do it again. I don’t want to make you feel like that again.” You promised. This time when she smiled you didn’t miss the light blush on her cheeks. “I’ll see you later.” You say giving her hand a soft squeeze. You’d never told Natasha about how you felt for her. She’d always call you on your birthday, she’d go out of her way to stay awake and call you when you got up in the morning. It was those times that you realized how she made you feel. How after many months of not talking you could fall back easily into conversation. 

The time passed by quickly, and before you knew it you were knocking on Natasha's front door. “Why are you here again? Don’t you like your home?” Yelena asks, annoyed. “No, I like your house better now let me in!” You say as you push past her. “Home sweet home.” You say as you take off your shoes and sprawl on the couch after saying hi to Melina. It didn’t take long for Nat to come down. She smiled and sat on the carpet in front of you. You three actually had a very nice night watching movies and laughing at your antics. Your week didn’t get much better after that moment, all you could really focus on was Wanda, walking down the halls with Vision next to her. Her laughter and his hand holding hers, both of their cheeks flushed. So it’s to say that you had a rough week. Most everybody around you noticed. Natasha and Yelena being the ones to live it first hand. As Natasha was getting ready to go to bed she heard soft knocks on her door. “Come in.” She says as she brushes her hair. “Natasha, I am worried.” She states. 

Nat nods for her sister to continue. “Y/n is not acting like herself. As annoying as she is, this new y/n is not it.” She states. “And you’re telling me this because…” She ushers her sister to continue. “So you can do something about it.” She states confidently. “There's not much I can do about that, she’s sad. For good reason too.” She finishes off. Yelena grumbles back. “And you? Why are you ‘sad’? You've been walking around like a kicked puppy since the movie day.” Natasha shakes her head. “That’s not true.” She says looking away from her sister. “Whatever, I’m over it. Do something about Y/n. I physically can’t take her sulking anymore.” With that being said Yelena had left her room leaving Natasha to her thoughts. The next day like usual you knocked on her door, you made no jokes, didn’t even call shotgun, nothing. Nat noticed Yelena's look on you, you hadn’t bothered to comment on how she looked that day. All you said was a pleasantry good morning to the sisters. You heard Yelena sigh a small ‘I’m not doing this’ followed up by her clearing her throat calling both of your attentions. “I’m riding my bike to school today.” She announced without waiting for a response. 

For the first time this week she saw a small smile on your face. Making your way to the dining room you seemed antsy. “Alright, what's got you all smiling?” You turned to her like it was obvious. “It rained last night…” She laughed and nodded. “I’m driving today!” You exclaimed. She thought back to what Yelena had said. This would surely make you happy if only for a moment. “Alright you go get her a change of clothes.” You order. “I’ll wait for you in the car.” you said. When Nat walked out she almost stopped dead in her tracks, you were gorgeous, the shades and your loose hair, did her in. You caught her staring, it took you honking at her to get her to move again. “Hurry up, now we have to catch up with her!” You yelled. She all but ran to get into the car. It didn’t take long to find Yelena. You waited trailing slowly behind her until she reached a big enough puddle. You pressed on the gas and laughed as you watched Yelena's form be consumed by the spray of water you produced. 

You slowed and eventually returned to where Yelena was. “Man, some bad luck back there huh? Bet you wished you rode with us now.” You said teasingly You laughed in her face and threw the bag of clothes Nat had packed at her. “You told me to fix it.” Nat said cryptically. “I’d say it’s fixed. Have fun getting to school loser.” The smile on your face remained as you drove to school laughing at the comments Natasha was making. It was the lightest you'd both felt all week. She couldn’t stop looking at you, so she saw the exact moment that the smile fell from your face. You got quiet and so did she. She looked at what you were looking at, and her heart ached for you. It was Vision and Wanda in what she had assumed was your spot kissing. She didn’t want to push again so she didn’t mention it. Instead she said. “Let’s wait for Lena, she shouldn’t be that far behind.” You nodded absentmindedly. You couldn’t look away, you were a deer caught in headlights. So despite Nat’s best interest she pushed. “Why don't you fight to get her back?” She asked, trying to sound as encouraging as she could. You turned to her and saw the worry and sadness in her eyes. You smiled softly trying to sound reassuring. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” You said “Besides it’s time for me to acknowledge that she was never ‘mine’ to love, there's nothing to fight for when she was never mine to begin with.” 

Tag List: @when-wolves-howl, @alyciaddict, @username23345

A/N: There were two more of you that asked to be put on the tag list however I was not able to. Not gonna lie I have no Idea if the issue is on my side or not, but It might be your visibility settings that are messing with that. I'm not sure at all, if you still want to be in the tag list comment your @ make sure it’s underlined. @mcu-fan-fics-blog​. (like that.) Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a good day, or night. 

#wanda maximoff #wanda and pietro #vision x wanda #wanda mcu #wandavision #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x vision #pietro maximoff #ralph bohner #quick silver #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #highschool au #high school #fanfiction #alternate universe #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel #MCU #Marvel MCU #MCU fic #mcufam

[alreadyblondenow]

Box of crayons

“We were just two kids back then, but now we have two kids.”

Pairing: Jaehyun x female!reader Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, angst if you squint, childhood friends to lovers, growing up au, college au, to being married. WC: 3,522k Warnings: mentions of getting bullied during kindergarten, alcohol consumption on a college party, getting drunk, swearing, spitting, oral sex: male and female receiving, slight cum play, overstimulation, fingering, cream pie, unprotected sex, switching positions, smut scene is kind of long. A/N: I just want to post something.

Meant to be. You and Jaehyun are meant to be. But not as lovers, at least not yet. For now, you believe that you and Jaehyun are meant to be best friends.

It all started when you saw him starring at his blank paper, close to tears while other kids are teasing him for not having a box of crayons. You came in bolting and scaring those kids with your wrath and told Jaehyun, “stop being such a loser,” and shared with him your box of crayons.

On the next day, you forgot your colors at home and you felt like such a loser because everyone was busy drawing and coloring their works while you’re stuck with this great idea in your mind for your artwork.

“Stop being such a loser,” Jaehyun said and sat beside you to share his box of colors with you this time.

That was the day you learned, at a very young age, that boxes of crayons that has a hundred colors are meant to be shared. You and Jaehyun became friends starting that day and your friendship became like a box of crayons that you’re willing to share with each other.

As long as you both have some colors left on your box, you’re willing to share and got each other’s back.

Your friendship grew and grew during kindergarten, grade school, and high school. Until your families acknowledged your friendship and thought that maybe someday you’ll end up together. On top of that, you and Jaehyun grew up together and watch each other achieve different kinds of great things. May it be through sports, academics, or your hobbies.

“Hey loser,” you sat beside him during lunch break and distract him from doing his assignment.

“Hey yourself” he smirked and continued writing.

It was a busy day in school, the student body organization was busy the whole week because of prom. And to be honest, you are too, you were busy with your dress and you were busy looking for the perfect tie for Jaehyun. And now, you’re just waiting for him to pop the question and finally ask you to prom, which he will because you’re best friend right? So that made you very excited and giddy.

“What do you think of Yeri?” He asked out of nowhere. Smiling and playing with his pen while waiting for your answer but you already felt nervous.

“Popular- She bullied you when we were kids? Why?” you answered short and cold. And you wonder why the man beside you is smiling like a fool.

“I’m taking her to prom, she said yes. It was yesterday in the library, I talked to her, and went straight to the point. I made her blush like crazy...” he proudly told you the story of how he asked someone else to prom but your ears started ringing and you can't hear anything he says already. Turns out when you were busy looking for the perfect tie for him yesterday, he was busy asking the girl he likes to prom.

Everything shifted after prom, you and Jaehyun stopped talking to each other but he was too busy with his new girlfriend to notice that.

Graduation came and summer took place, you and Jaehyun are going to the same college but now you’re not sure if he still wanted the same thing because rumors are he and Yeri are so in love that they will go to the same college. It's useless to reach out if life will eventually separate you and Jaehyun might as well accept it.

As you enter college and made great new friends, you forgot about Jaehyun and focus on your studies during freshman year. But during the start of your sophomore year and while you were at the library to borrow a few books you bumped into him and were forced to catch up and had coffee for old times sake. He paid for the drinks and snacks, obviously, he was happy to see you but you looked uninterested.

And when he noticed that he’s probably taking too much of your time, he finally started a conversation. “I transferred just this semester and I was actually looking forward to seeing you. How are you?”

“Great- look I have to study and I can’t be out this long, uhm...” you started to gather your stuff and ramble. “Maybe some other time Jae,” you said and left with a fake smile. You almost feel bad about what you did but he can’t just waltz back into your life like he didn’t forget about you the moment he had a girlfriend. Now ex-girlfriend.

And as your college years continue, a catch-up never happened again. Although he tried so many times to take you out, but you always refuse and avoid him with all your might whenever you see him around the campus. He was so consistent with bringing you back to his life but you just don’t care anymore because truth be told you were hurt when he left you. Maybe this is revenge? Maybe not? But one thing is for sure, you got hurt and you hated him for it.

Now that you’re in your senior and everything is very stressful, you decided to go to this party with your friends and you were so unlucky that Jaehyun was there with his set of friends, busy playing beer pong and being loud as fuck. Of course he saw you and it halted his moves, he wanted to come say hi to you or hand you a drink but you will for sure pretend that he is invisible so he didn’t.

The party was fun. Thankfully, there were a lot of snacks and overflowing alcoholic beverages as well as non-alcoholic beverages. And because you suck at drinking games, you were downing tequilas and vodkas the whole night and that’s how you got batshit drunk that Jaehyun found you on the bathroom inside the empty tub, sleeping like a baby with a red cup in your hand.

He knew right then and there that he is responsible for you.

“Y/n, it’s Jae. Can you walk?” he asked while patting your head softly. But you can’t talk right now, so you just shook your head ‘no’ and reached for him. You knew that it’s him and you can hear him perfectly but your brain is not working right and the room can’t stop spinning. And you can’t believe you’re saying this but you’re happy that he’s here to take care of you.

You had this same feeling when you forgot your crayons back then and he came to rescue you from your little situation. He’s the same Jaehyun after all.

He offered to drive you back to your dorm which you accepted without any argument, you could’ve thanked him if only you can talk properly. He was so concerned to you that he cleared the backseat of his car and let you lie there comfortably with his jacket covering your legs. And when he brought you to your dorm safely and in one piece, he can't just leave you sleeping with your dirty clothes and helped you clean yourself with closed eyes. Everything was a challenge for him, especially when he had to close his eyes before he removes your blouse, pants, unclasp your bra and make you wear something comfortable to sleep.

Jaehyun then pats your head softly and told you “I’ll get going then, good night” before he leaves and thankfully, you were quick to stop him and you had enough energy to tell him to stay. He smiled so big and felt so happy that he wanted to scream and jump around your room. But he controlled himself and removed his shoes before he lies beside you in your comfortable bed.

To his shock, you swing your arms around him and pulled him closer to you for a tight embrace that he eventually returned. Caressing your back as he melts to your embrace and enjoys the happiness that he’s feeling right now.

“I’m sorry,” he started and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you. Never hurt me again like that, Jaehyun I swear-“

“Shhh. I will never do that to you again,” he said and hummed a song oh so softly until you fall asleep together and meet in each other’s dreams.

Just as you thought that your friendship will never come back, it did and this time it came back with love. But even though that this time love is around to make you two stick together, you never admitted your feelings to each other. You just let your actions do the talking. From him holding your hand during a scary Netflix movie, to you holding his hand while he drives. It was a simple and comfortable ‘relationship’ and you wish he would make it official.

But during a beautiful rainy day when you and Jaehyun decided to stay at your place and enjoy the cold bed weather together instead of going to the movies... everything suddenly fell into place.  

“Mmm. Feels good” Jaehyun moaned as you concentrate on lining the face mask on his face properly. You’re sitting comfortably on top of him, your legs placed on both of his sides, while he’s leaning on your headboard with closed eyes, feeling so relaxed as you pamper him with skincare.

“Stop moaning, my dorm mates might think we're having sex,” you giggle and rake his hair away from his covered face. Holding it nicely as you lean closer to his chest to enjoy the comfort of being on top of him.

“Comfortable?” he asked and placed his hands on your back and made you lean on him completely. He started caressing your back and his soft touches are making you sleepy. You may not know, but he’s very much in love with you and that he will do everything just to keep you this time. He’s just waiting for the perfect time to admit his feelings to you and make everything official.

“Okay times up,” you excitedly said and started removing the face mask. While wiping his clear and handsome face, you see redness on his cheeks and his ears are turning red. You smiled and let out a giggle because that only means Jaehyun is flustered right now.

“Can you blame me? You’re so close to me and you’re literally on top of my dick. Don’t make fun of me if I get hard,” he said with a shy smile. Eyes turning into crescents and his cute dimples are deeper than ever. So instead of making him shy, you decided to make him nervous by grinding on him slowly but with enough pressure to make him in the mood and hard in no time.

His eyes went big when you rolled your hips once. Then it became even bigger when you rolled your hips a few times again which made him tensed up and hold his breath. “Stop it,” he said, but with a smile, that’s so big. He’s completely aware that you’re teasing him.

“But do you really want me to stop?” you said and put more effort into what you’re doing to him. Grinding slowly and deliciously, rolling your head and parting your lips. But the thing is, you’re not acting anymore. Jaehyun does feel so good right now and you’re liking what you started. And now that you’re letting out small moans, Jaehyun came close to you and caught your lips. Holding your head steady and kissing you like how he always wanted to.

“If you don’t stop now, I’ll really, really, really take advantage of this moment,” he said and went back to kissing you. A mixture of happiness and lust and you both feel like your hearts are about to burst because of what's happening right now. Kissing each other while smiling in between, kissing each other even more deeper by every second. It’s like your kisses were saying, ‘i love you’ ‘no, i love you more’. And as you two are busy with your lips, you felt Jaehyun’s hands slip inside your shirt and draw small circles on your skin while kissing as if he wanted you to lift your shirt but he’s just too shy to tell you. So without any warning, you stopped kissing him only to remove your shirt and remove your bra in front of him.

This may not be Jaehyun’s first time seeing a naked girl in front of him, but you sure did make him shy that he avoided looking at you. Flashing those dimples again, and witnessing his ears turn bright red. Brighter than ever. “Stop being shy and touch me,” you command and put your hand on his nape and reached for his other hand to place it on your shoulder. Giving him the freedom to touch you and roam his hand around your body as you continue to grind your clothed pussy on his hard dick.

Soon his hand finally started to move, touching your boobs first and kneading them slowly and carefully until Jaehyun became comfortable and confident to request that you remove your shorts too. Which you did gladly, so now you’re left with only your panties, kissing Jaehyun on the neck and making the man moan and feel good. Lifting his shirt without any hesitation and exposing his very hot body before your eyes and left kisses on it immediately.

Kisses after kisses you made him weak until you reach his sweat pants and pull it down together with his boxers brief so you can plant kisses on his happy trail, lower abdomen, and finally his hard cock. And there it is again, his handsome dimpled smile that shows his shyness. His cock twitched when your cold hands made contact with his cock, pumping it slowly while you watch him close his eyes and roll his head back. He watched you spit on his cock, and slowly put his whole size in your mouth. Gripping the sheets as he loses his mind, gripping the sheets as he breathes in and out heavily, letting out deep groans and making sweet moans.

“Y/n, s-stop. I’m about to cum,” he pleaded but you didn’t stop. Instead, you moved your head even faster, worked with your tongue, and made sure to never let him forget this moment that his whole cock is in your mouth for the first time.

After a few minutes of pleasure, Jaehyun came into your mouth and you witnessed him shaking and moaning on your bed with a satisfied smile. Still, with a sensitive body, you lay on top of him and teased him from cumming so soon. “You’re dead,” he said and smiled so sweetly at you. Encircling his arms around your body and kissing you a couple of times before he changed places with you. Finally, removing your panties and making you spread your legs for him, holding you with utmost care and kissing you with a mixture of love and lust.

If you tortured him earlier with your trail of kisses on his body, now it’s Jaehyun’s turn to torture you with him kissing your inner thighs oh so softly that it sends tingles straight to your spine and making your legs close automatically. “Uh-uh, I endured everything you did to me earlier,” he said, teasing you before he slides his fingers up and down your slit and finally licking it slowly. Spitting on your cunt just how you spit on his dick earlier and started pleasuring you with his hot tongue. Your hand automatically landed on his head, gripping his soft locks as he licks you slowly and torturing you with that damn wet muscle.

And when he finally made you cum and had his sweet revenge, he kissed you all over your body and put his entire weight on top of you. Letting your nipples brush on his chest and his hand soothe your sensitive body.

It was quiet for a moment, and only your heavy breaths can be heard in your room besides the air conditioning. He nibbles your earlobes and spreads kisses on your neck while slightly grinding his hard cock on your very wet pussy, waiting for you to calm down so he can finally fuck you.

“I was planning to take you out on a proper date first before we go to this stage. You just have to be so impatient, huh?” he shook his head in disbelief and kissed your lips again before he pulls away, putting both his hands on the sides of your head. His cock was very hard that you almost thought it wouldn’t fit, “Don’t worry you’re so wet. It will slide in easily” he said before he told you to line his cock so he can finally push in.

Slowly he stretches you out, rolling his head back and so are his eyes, while you on the other hand grip your boobs knead them as you feel Jaehyun’s cock slide in and out. “Jaehyun, deeper-“ you requested and let out a moan that made him gave in to your request. He adjusts your position, folded your knee before he spreads you open, thrusting deeper than before that his lower abdomen touches yours. Losing your mind whenever you take a peek at the motion of his hips while fucks you, Jaehyun was so hot as he moves his waist and kept his eyes only to you, this time he’s the one making you feel so shy.

“You like it this way? Deep and slow?" you only nod, “Wanna go another round after this?” you smiled and nod again, “Do you love me?”

And then he started thrusting faster and harder that your body was dragged on the mattress, and your boobs are bouncing up and down because of his hard thrust. Jaehyun came close to you for a kiss, still waiting for your answer. Although he knew already that you do love him by the way you kiss him, still he needed to hear it from you. “I want to hear it Y/n,” Jaehyun pleaded again and hold on to your waist tightly as he fucks you harder than before.

“I do Jae- fuck, slow down. Almost there” you croaked but its too late, Jaehyun’s thumb is on your clit, ready to torture you again and make you cum for the second time tonight.

Locking your legs around his waist as you enjoy your high and oversensitivity, you didn’t expect that you’d ask for more and beg for more the moment you hit your high that Jaehyun got more excited that he almost forgot to pull out. And when he did, he came on your pussy lips, watching his cum paint your wet folds and throbbing cunt. Of course the man above you isn’t satisfied with all the torture he did tonight, so he slides his fingers on your cunt, playing with his own cum and finger fucked you to give you another mind blowing orgasm.

The eventful bed weather ended with you and Jaehyun cuddling in your bed with his hands on your thigh and you’re wearing nothing but his black shirt and a pair of panties while he stays handsome and so irresistible in his boxers briefs.

“I promise to love you,” he whispered to you while drawing small and soft circles on your thighs, his eyes never left yours. “I promise to stay even though you’re so stubborn,” he added which made you giggle and happy.

FIVE YEARS LATER

During a very quiet night where Jaehyun’s hands are intertwined with yours and his embrace was tighter than ever because he was really tired from work, Jaehyun was having a cute dream. He dreamt about how you saved him from the bullies back when you were only innocent kids. He was smiling through his dream until he hears a cry. A cry of an infant and opened his eyes immediately. You stopped him from getting up and told him, “I got it Jae, go sleep. You’ve been up the whole day,”

Jaehyun has become a great provider for your small family now. And he was working hard to the bone that he barely gets enough sleep during weekdays. “Thank you,” murmured and closed his hands again. And after you put your babies to sleep again and went back to Jaehyun’s embrace, Jaehyun was deep in his sleep that he’s sleep talking and murmuring sweet nothings, the kind where you only hear whenever you have slow sex.  

“We were just two kids back then, but now we have two kids. I will buy them boxes of boxes of crayons so bullies will never touch them,”

You giggle and pulled him closer. Hoping that he will ramble more because he’s so cute right now. “I love you,” you said, you weren’t expecting something in return but he responded.

“I just realized I never thanked you for sharing your crayons with me back then, thank you” he said and opened his eyes and went on top of you to kiss you sincerely. His wife. “I love you”  

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #cznnet #neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #kpopscape #kdiner #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios

[ottiliere]

Do you have more possible backstory on psych ward Dirk?? Cause im in love with the idea so much (& am projecting so hard)

have been thinking about this a lot. hi.

I always envisioned dirk being raised by beta bro in this au for many reasons but mainly because 1) trailer park rat dirk is vital 2) abject poverty vital 3) isolation and severely abusive caregiver in the confined environment that you call your home is vital. all of these things helping to breed mental illness like an agar plate.  

in my mind i think about the disparity between how bro would've treated dave vs dirk in a way that reflects dirks canonical hatred for his splinterselves.if dave grew up with bro then he probably ran away pretty early, maybe when he was 13, to go live with rose... bro having viewed him as a little pet project with some form of condescending fondness. shaping him in his image whether it be unconscious or not. and with dirk it's like. accident baby from a one night stand he gets stuck with. not that dave probably also wasn't that too. but dave came with a certain kind of novelty? whereas bro would think of dirk exclusively in terms of his inconvenience and shortcomings in comparison to himself. he wouldn't care at all where he actually tried A LITTLE with dave. I think simply the IDEA of having to get another baby though "baby" years would ruin all chances he had of treating dirk in any positive way whatsoever.

i envision bro never buying food for them or keeping it in the house. dirk would subsist on reduced school lunches and digging through the garbage at school for food to take home, otherwise he wouldnt be able to eat. and summers would be the worst because hed have to do this in public places in sweltering texas heat. this would warp his mind i think and is also the foundation as to why i envision him having pica. he'd eat A LOT of weird things, just from a very young age, due to being consistently starved. he’d eat the glue in kindergarten. he'd eat the paper and have a fondness for different kinds and brands. he’d rank construction paper and computer paper and notebook paper in his head. he’d try to eat crayons but wouldn’t like the waxy texture and how it sticks to his teeth. he'd suck on markers. he'd steal the ones from class and break them open to pull out the full... i dont know the word for it. theres like a flexible tube in there. and if you cut it open and run it under water it makes like a slightly tinted ball of fluff if you tear it all off its casing (i would do this all the time). he would just pull this out to suck the ink out of it more easily.... chew on it a little once its empty.  probably eats whatever bro has lying around. which is likely very dangerous for a child lol. miraculous he even survives toddlerhood... but the same could be said for canon i think.

kids would not be nice to dirk. i think his clothes would be dirty all the time. and i think this is where his habit of really long showers would come from. he’d try to wash his clothes with body soap because he wouldn’t know how to use the washing machine/wouldn’t be tall enough to use it. and bro wouldn’t do his laundry. obviously.

I think he’d have a fixation on capturing animals and bugs. i like the idea of him capturing things and then keeping them and starving them and watching them waste away. i imagine he has a fascination with resistance and will to escape, watching that specifically fade away in things. detatched from the situation to the point that what he’s doing is hardly really even sadistic. he’s just an observer.

after finishing/dropping out of high school he would become a wageslave. night stocker. he would have to have extremely limited hours because it basically builds pressure in his brain every minute he’s there....like the idea of him working a back end job with minimal social interaction and still hating every second he has to talk to someone. he routinely envisions throwing himself in the baler. he would want his death to be as obnoxious as possible   probably at some point he did do mechanical work but i doubt he’d last long in a job like that because his attitude is so rancid. 

RE: ALPHA DAVE

dirk has never met dave but I think he knows he's related to him and I think he spent most of his childhood fantasizing about him and being "saved" by him, mainly regurgitating cyclic thoughts of movie parents onto this idealized version of him in his head. "this is what it's going to be like," he thinks. he is obsessed with him. he is his first celebrity crush and his dream father and his best friend. he is so undersocialized that he can never tell these ideals from each other; he was never taught to make the distinction. he will never meet the guy he's imagining that guy doesnt exist and no one will ever exist like him. and when he's young that's ok, because he can fantasize and dream about dave swooping in one direction wattpad style and saving him somehow. but the older he gets the angrier he'd become at the world for always being stuck with the shortest shittiest stick, ever, always. like even the other people in his poverty-stricken slumhole have family and friends. in adolescence this begins to coagulate in his mind along with his plummeting self-esteem and knowing innately that even if dave met him he would hate him like everyone else and he loses the ability to fantasize about it anymore because that's just reality to him at that point. like actively fantasizing about it makes him feel WORSE because it's like lying to himself

he would fester. like. i want him to be obsessed with dave hes projecting every father mother brother issue hes EVER had in his life onto this man who (he thinks) doesnt even know he exists. years pass and his resentment towards dave grows. the hope in the fantasy melts away as he realizes this guy just doesnt care about him at all anyway... but hes still cemented in his mind as this lionized figure. he's still a centerpiece but he's disgusting now. he'd form a complex "you think you're so much better than me" just so so angry wants to ruin him

^the only unironic entries in his journal.

in summary... I like to imagine that dirk’s life was just so legitimately horrible and he used dave as a mental security blanket for so so long that coming to the realization that this guy doesn't give a shit about him and is NEVER coming to "save him" would exacerbate his mental illness x1000.

we have toyed with the concept of dave knowing that dirk has existed his whole life and trying to make contact when he's an adult WAY too late way after he's been fucking broken by life would make him explode I think. but this post is already too long to talk about that. thanks for reading everyone

#ask #hospital dirk #discussions of child abuse #should make clear that a lot of this is compiled ideas between me and a few of my friends...not singly lucy. this is a group endeavor #whumpcoalition

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

Blackbonnet AU Rec List 

[Which in no way is comprehensive or cumulative of all the wonderful fics that are written by the fandom. But I do think more AUs need to be written - because I'm biased and more of these need to be read and loved because they're absolutely wonderful]

A Night At Blackbeard's Bar and Grill [T]

The manager at the new restaurant Stede is trying to review is being kind of a dick. A certain member of the waitstaff, however, takes a bit of a liking to him.

Count The Headlights On The Highway [T]

When Stede Bonnet releases a chart topping cover of an old Scalawags song, Ed is more taken with it than he'd like to admit. After Calico Jack starts twitter drama over the "destruction of real music," Ed finds himself in the unusual position of having to apologize to Stede in person.  From the series: You'll Marry A Musical Man

Queen Anne's Revenge [G]

Stede Bonnet, a middle-aged divorcee, has to use any chance he gets to get into his adolescent daughter’s good books. Such an opportunity presents itself when Alma persuades her father into going to a gig played by Queen Anne’s Revenge - the hottest rock band these days. The night becomes decidedly more interesting when Stede meets a stranger in a black leather jacket.

Bonnet's Eleven [T] [WIP]

Stede Bonnet has a plan. One that he's definitely-sort-of-mostly thought through. After all, how hard can a museum heist actually be?

There's A Giant Grey Cat In Mr Bonnet's House [G] [WIP]

Stede's online class gets more interesting when his students think he has a big grey and grumpy cat and all that because his leather wearing badass husband who runs a cool restaurant with gift shop, beats cops, and is allergic to cats somehow suddenly develops a camera shyness and tries every way possible to not show himself to Stede's class even when necessary.

The View From Student Services [T]

Ellen Conroy meets twelve year old Izzy Hands two weeks into the new school year and spends his year eight becoming familiar with his dad(s) and their connection with Mary, the deputy head.

From the series: A Minivan Called Revenge

The Red Side Of The Moon [M] [WIP]

“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. What would a notorious outlaw want with a ranch like ours?” Stede hopped back into the wagon and shook his head. “Besides. This guy working for Blackbeard? What are the odds of that?”

The Adventures of The Gentleman Prostitute! [M] [WIP]

In which Stede becomes a prostitute, is really bad at it, but finds love and family anyway.

On An Aisle In The Sun [T]

In which a group of vendors must work together to give Mary and Doug the best day of their lives - and perhaps fall in love for themselves at the same time.

From the series: Compass Point You Home (Closer To Me)

Awake And Unafraid [E]

There’s a man in Ed’s poetry seminar who equally baffles and intrigues him.

From the series: [Insert Witty College AU Series Title Here]

The Choiceless Hope In Grief [T]

A lighthouse keeper/kraken au.

Running In The Shadow [T]

What if Stede was a kindergarten teacher and all of the crew were little ones?

From the series: Ed and Stede's Adventures in the Modern World with Cats

Is This What They Call A Derby Crush (Knock Seven Bells Out of Me) [T]

No one expects the roller derby AU. Rated T for swearing.

Holy Shit! Cap'n's A Mermaid! [T]

Stede Bonnet was well used to keeping his heritage a secret, he'd kept it successfully for decades, but now, maybe, he could finally show someone who just might care about him.

Marmalade Cake [G]

Stede thinks his new neighbor, Ed, can't cook. He doesn't know that Ed is a Michelin-trained chef.

From the series: Love At First Bite

Catch A Rare Type Specimen [G]

It was dead silent, save the lap of the waves against the shore, and there were few signs of life, other than a kōtare asleep in a mānuka tree some meters off from his spot in the bay, and it was honestly very serene, a peace of mind he had been needing for God knew how long.

Kiss My Lipstick On [M]

Ed stumbles into a drag bar, then a relationship. He might as well fall into a fresh understanding of himself while he's at it.

From the series: Leda House And The Kraken' Verse

Ever Giving [G]

What if Stede was the pilot of the Ever Given when it ran aground and Ed was the Big Boss?

From the series: Ever Given AU

Our Fold Means Death [G]

There is a handsome, heavily bearded gentleman who keeps folding the laundry that’s been left in the communal dryers. Including Stede’s. Even the underthings.

Right To Your Door [T]

Moving into his new flat, Stede Bonnet orders takeaway from Blackbeard's Bar and Grill. He becomes instantly smitten with his delivery driver, Ed.

Our Fashionable Armor [T]

A silk scarf, a copper button, and a pair of warm brown eyes change the course of Ed's entire criminal career.

Visions Of A Life [G]

It isn’t a secret at Queen Anne’s Academy that Stede Bonnet has a big fat crush on the world-famous rockstar known as Edward Teach. To Professor Bonnet, he seems to be just Ed, though. Ed this, Ed that.

Strokes Of Love [T]

Ed Teach: competitive swimmer, and returning college student. Add an interesting new teammate, and it's the perfect recipe for love.

The Bookshop Revenge [T]

Oluwande invites a famous horror author for a book signing. This is great and all but Stede Bonnet does not read horror, he's more of a romance type of man.

Foreign And Exotic Terms Of Endearment [T]

When the new tattoo shop opened down the street, REVENGE painted in the window in a gaudy script, Ed didn’t think much of it.

Seems I Got To Have A Change Of Scene [M]

"There's a piano guy in studio B."

Hometown [G]

No one believes that Stede knows Blackbeard. He's always talking about his "Ed," like he's on a first name basis with the most dreaded pirate in history.

A Mismatch Of Workplace [T]

Working at a mall sucks. Occasionally, though, it does have its benefits.

Love That's Slow [E]

Stede Bonnet is arranged to marry the pirate Blackbeard to forge a peace treaty between pirates and the local nobility that pass through the area. Stede only hopes this pirate turns out to be nice and actually have a head for a head instead of smoke.

How Long Until We Find Our Way (In The Dark And Out Of Harm) [T]

“The gentleman pirate, I presume.”

It had been emblazoned across him, on the left side, for as long as he could remember. Not that it had mattered.

Will You Dance? [T]

Edward Teach (also known as the Kraken to his motorcycle gang) is told his blood pressure is too high and he better start exercising regularly. Turns out dance makes for good exercise. It helps that the dance instructor is the most captivating man he’s ever met.

First Friend [G]

Stede Bonnet likes to be by himself, and luckily, he has the perfect place to do so. On his family's estate, to the East, is a small section of woods - so small it can hardly be called a forest. But what happens when someone else is in his safe place?

From the series: Call It Puppy Love

Around Your Heart in 80 Days [T]

Ed owns a Bar and Grill in a dangerous part of the city. He’s surprised to see a man like Stede in the area, he figures he must be lost. What ensues is a clandestine meeting followed by 80 days of rapidly falling in love.

Get Out Of My Dreams (And Into My Home) [T]

Stede is a merman that saves Ed from drowning.

A Sadness Runs Through Him [M]

Stede Bonnet has a midlife crisis after his divorce, and he leaves his office job in the city and moves to a small coastal town where no one knows him. Here he can start over.

Oh Captain, My Captain [M]

Stede Bonnet starts teaching English in a new school. Blackbeard is the custodian with a past.

Tagging the lovely @smuggsy who wanted some recs <3

#So yeah I might've gone a little overboard #but tbh #all of them are really good #and lean more into the fluffy side and fill my sweetness craving #fic recs #fanfiction #ao3 #Blackbonnet #Blackstede #Gentlebeard #Blackbeard #Stede Bonnet #Edward Teach #Our Flag Means Death #OFMD #long post #also if you've written any of these fics do let me know cause I'll tag u here and I wanna follow u to absorb your genius #again there's tons of fics I haven't read #so if you'd like to rec me some more let me know #god I traversed through 19 pages of fics to make this so yeah

[sunflowervolvimp3]

42 Hours

Content: an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time

Warnings: language, mentions of nsfw content

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 20k 

A/N: I actually cannot believe that this is finally being posted over almost a month of working on it!! originally, I was going to make this one long stand alone fic, but once I hit 35k with no end in sight, I decided to split it into two parts so that it would be easier to read for you guys.  I’m hoping to have part 2 posted within a week, so keep an eye out for it!! this fic was partially inspired by this post by @avhrodite​ (thank you miss bailey!!) and can I just say that I had so much fun writing it!! I love road trips!! it makes me so sad that I had to split this fic because there are so many fun music scenes in the next part but those will all come in due time!! I would also like to give a big thank you to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for putting up with me bouncing ideas off of them and for proof reading for me!! and miss andrea again for editing this stunning header pic!! also everyone I tagged is a wonderful writer and if you’re looking for more to read after reading this then I HIGHLY suggest taking a look through their masterlists. and as always, if you like this fic, please like and reblog it!! and shoot me a message!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by all content creators <3

{masterlist}

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

When she was a little girl, Y/N’s grandmother had told her about Murphy’s Law.  Grandma Sarah’s favourite activity was staring at her granddaughter over the kitchen counter, a knife in one hand and half an onion that she’d been cutting in the other, spouting various wisdoms at the young girl, who would often be sitting and peeling vegetables for her.  The old lady had hoped that, after being lectured enough times on life’s difficulties, Y/N might be able to avoid making the same mistakes that she had made in her own time.  She always had a list of advice that she’d cycle through, as if she were a record on a loop.

“Always look both ways before crossing the street.  Your great uncle Albert didn’t, and he never regained full function of his left hand.”

“Beauty fades, but there’s no shelf life on your mind.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, so stop staring at it, and focus on taking care of your own lawn.”

All of the advice was, by any accounts, useful for anyone to know, especially a young girl.  Of course, sometimes the advice would get a little scrambled after Grandma Sarah had had a few glasses of wine, but even her tipsy thoughts were useful to Y/N in her later years.  To this day, Y/N still sets a glass of water on her nightstand before going out to a bar, and her hungover self is always grateful the next morning.  And Y/N had yet to find anything that smelled as sweet as a vanilla dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists when she runs out of perfume.  However, perhaps the most important piece of advice Grandma Sarah ever gave her came one afternoon when Y/N was eleven years old, and her older cousin Grace was due to get married the next week.

Grandma Sarah had cracked egg after egg into her mixing bowl, always without getting any unwanted pieces of shell in the egg whites, and gave her granddaughter a long look across the kitchen counter.

“When you get married, Y/N,” She had said, voice firm. “Remember Murphy’s Law.  Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.  When Murphy’s Law comes into play, there’s nothing you can do except roll with the punches.”

Eleven year old Y/N had nodded her head seriously, as she always did when her grandmother told her seemingly important things.  The advice, despite its usefulness, however, didn’t stick around in her head, and Murphy’s Law didn’t cross Y/N’s mind for fourteen years.

It takes fourteen years for Y/N, who is standing in front of a flight check-in at LAX, two large suitcases next to her, one of which contains two gold wedding bands, passport in hand, and a distressed look on her face, to remember the law her grandmother had once told her about.

“When you get married, Y/N…anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.”

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Y/N pushes the echoing words of her grandmother out of her head. “I’m sorry, just—” She gives a pained smile to the lady working the check in. “Can you explain that to me again, please?”

The lady also takes a deep breath, the smile on her ruby tinted lips just as pained as Y/N’s. “There’s a storm system moving through Utah and Colorado.  These systems have the potential to become tornadoes, and because of that, the conditions for flying are too dangerous right now, so all flights through that area are grounded until further notice.”

“So my flight is cancelled?” Y/N holds up the ticket in her hand that’s stamped with LAX – JFK. “This flight, this flight to New York, which is nowhere near Utah—that’s cancelled?”

The check-in lady, whose name tag reads Brynn, gives another tight smile. “Yes, ma’am.  It’s cancelled.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry, Brynn, but that doesn’t work for me.” Y/N shakes her head fiercely as the manic rush of emotions through her begins to set in.  The denial, she finds, keeps the oncoming panic at bay, and so she decides to focus on that to ground herself. “My best friend is getting married in the Catskills in one week.” Y/N holds up one finger, as if her words are hard for Brynn to understand. “That’s one week from today.  I’m the maid of honour.  I have to be there to help organize, keep her calm, and make sure she actually makes it down the aisle, because—between you and me—she’s got some commitment issues—” The more Y/N speaks, the more her panic begins to spill out in her words, like a dam with a leak that’s about to burst. “And she forgot the goddamn wedding rings, so I have those too, and I just—I really need to get to New York, like, now. Right now.”

Y/N finally pauses to take a sharp breath, and Brynn, who had been waiting for her to finish, speaks again, her voice flatter than before.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am, but as I said, all flights are grounded right now.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, Y/N takes another deep breath.  Roll with the punches, her grandmother had told her.  What else is there to do? “Okay.” Y/N is careful to keep her voice in check when she speaks again. “Alright.  Do you know when they’ll be ungrounded?”

“As I’ve said,” Brynn’s smile is more of a grimace now, and Y/N knows that she’s treading on thin ice. “All flights are grounded until further notice.  We’re not sure when we’ll be able to open them again.  It could be a day, or it could be five.  If you’d like, I can put you down on a list to be called when flights are available again, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”

“Let’s do that, then.” Y/N relents in a tired voice, already making plans to pick up a coffee on her way back to her apartment.  In the back of her mind, she begins to wonder if she has any Baileys Irish cream liqueur left in her kitchen cabinet—and if 8:30 A.M. is too early to be drinking Baileys with her coffee.

…

It takes Y/N two cups of coffee with Baileys (it had been 10 A.M. by the time she arrived home, thanks to L.A. traffic, and she had decided that 10 A.M. was a fine time to drink when one’s flight gets cancelled indefinitely) to work up the courage to call Jo and tell her that she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to make it to the wedding.

Josephine Waters, or Jo to anyone who doesn’t want to get punched in the arm, has been Y/N’s best friend since the girls were five years old.  They became fast friends on the first day of kindergarten, as Jo liked how Y/N could already colour inside the lines, and Y/N liked how Jo tackled a boy who tugged on Y/N’s pigtails.  From the very beginning, the two were a perfect match for each other; where Y/N was reserved, Jo was wild.  Where Jo was disorganized, Y/N was focused.  Each girl balanced the other in the most natural way, and it’s this fact that Y/N and Jo credit for the two of them staying friends for twenty years. As they grew up together, they grew together, taking the very best traits from the other and using it to help themselves develop.  Y/N had been the first person that Jo came out to, confessing to her best friend during an eighth grade sleepover in a quiet and nervous voice.  To Jo’s pleasure, Y/N had been completely supportive, and returned the favour from the first day of kindergarten by punching a boy in the nose for calling Jo a homophobic slur.  Jo helped Y/N through her parent’s divorce.  Y/N helped Jo manage her ADHD.  Jo talked Y/N through discovering her bisexuality in university. Y/N answered every 3 A.M. phone call to comfort Jo after a panic attack.  In every sense of the word, the two girls had been there for each other.

And now Y/N is going to miss Jo’s wedding.

The harsh realization digs a pit in her stomach as she opens her phone and clicks on Jo’s name.  It’s noon in L.A., which means it’s 3 P.M. in New York time, and Y/N knows Jo will answer.  She always does.

Sure enough, after three short rings, Jo’s voice chirps through the phone. “Hey, Y/N!  Has your flight landed already?”

“No, there’s—there’s been an issue.” Y/N downs another gulp of her coffee, wishing she had added more Baileys when she had the chance, and clears her throat before continuing. “There’s, um, a storm in Utah, and apparently it’s bad, and so all flights from L.A. to New York are grounded until further notice.”

Jo makes a scoffing noise, and Y/N can practically picture the indignant look on her face that she’s seen so many times before. “That’s ridiculous.  Did you tell them that New York is nowhere near Utah?”

“Uh huh.”

“What about that my wedding is in one week?”

“I told them that, too. Brynn didn’t seem to care.”

“Bitch.” Jo mutters under her breath. “Okay, just wait a second, Laure just walked through the door, so I’m putting you on speakerphone—”

Y/N hears rustling on the speaker, as well as muttering in the background as Jo speaks to her fiancée, and then Jo’s voice is back, sounding slightly more distant.

“Okay, so I told Laure what happened—”

“That’s awful, Y/N.” Laure’s voice is laced with stress, and Y/N can only imagine how much anxiety this information is adding to her already full plate. “They won’t tell you when flights will be leaving again?”

“Nope.” Y/N pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her free arm around them, leaning her head against the back of her couch.

“Okay, well, planes aren’t the only way to get here.” Laure says, always the more rational out of the two. “Maybe a car—?”

“Y/N doesn’t have one.” Jo chimes in, a hint of teasing in her voice, despite the serious problem that’s in discussion. “She’s scared of driving—”

Y/N sits up, an indignant look on her face. “I’m not scared of driving!” She says hotly, setting her empty coffee mug on the table with a thud. “I just hate L.A. traffic, and honestly, there’s no point!  I can walk to work, and Uber anywhere else I need to go!  A car would be completely useless to me!”

“Except now, when you’re about to miss your best friend’s wedding.” Jo points out. “What about renting one?”

Y/N sighs, her moment of indignation already fizzled out. “I tried that already.  There’s nothing available for a cross country trip.”

“And the drive is so long.” Laure murmurs, and Y/N knows it’s more for Jo’s benefit than hers. “It’s over forty hours.  She can’t do that by herself; it’s not safe.”

“But—”

“Look, Jo, don’t worry about this, alright?” Y/N cuts across her best friend’s anxious voice, assuming her usual role of protector. “I’ll figure this out.  I promise you; I will make it to your wedding on time, looking pretty in my dress, and with your wedding bands.  I promise.”

“We’ll keep thinking about it and see what we can come up with.” Laure promises through the phone, her voice sounding further and further away. “This is just—it’s a bump in the road, but it’s fine.  We can work around this.  We’ll find a way.”

…

The way that Laure finds for Y/N pounds on her door at 7:30 A.M. the next morning.

Y/N, like any exhausted and stressed out adult who has already begun her ten days of vacation time that she booked off for the wedding, is fast asleep in her bed when she hears the knocking.  The loud noise pulls her out from her dreams abruptly, and she cracks one eye open, squinting through the sunlight that’s lighting up her room.  When the knock echoes through her apartment again, she pulls herself from her sheets with a groan, grabbing her robe from the back of her door and tying it around herself as she makes her way to the front hallway to yell at whoever has the audacity to wake her up.

When she opens the door, Harry Styles is peering down at her with an irritated look on his face.

“Took you long enough, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes as he speaks, finally stepping back from the door that he had been pounding on a moment ago. “Are you ready to go?”

Y/N rubs her eyes, suppressing a yawn as she does so. “Styles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.  What are you doing here?” She demands.  She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, she thinks, let alone the mental capacity to listen to anything he has to say.

Harry crosses his arms across his chest, and it’s then that Y/N notices the duffel bag strewn over his shoulder. “It’s a forty-two hour drive from L.A. to the Catskills.” Harry’s eyes scan over Y/N’s appearance, the very corner of his strawberry pink lips twitching, and Y/N tightens her robe around herself with a glare.

“A drive?” Y/N asks, uncertainty growing in her voice as she crosses her arm over her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Your flight was cancelled, right?” Harry’s voice grows more impatient as Y/N’s half asleep brain struggles to piece together what’s happening. “So was mine, so I decided to drive to the wedding, and then Laure called me last night, begging me to take you with me.” He shrugs a bit, fixing his sunglasses on top of his head as his jade eyes scan over her appearance one more time. “Not my first choice of road trip partner, but I don’t think the best man can say no to bringing the maid of honour.  And splitting the cost of gas will be nice.”

“Okay, wait, I…” Y/N’s finally coming out of her fog of exhaustion, and the newfound clarity of her mind is causing a newfound pit to develop in her stomach. “Laure and Jo didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Well, I expect they’re a bit busy, given that they’re getting married in a week.” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder with a sharp sigh. “Look, are you ready to go or not?  It’s over a five day drive, so we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“I—yeah—” Y/N nods before taking a hesitant step back from the doorway, positioning herself to the side so that Harry can get by her. “I just have to get dressed and grab a couple last minute things, so…come in, I guess.”

Harry flashes an insincere smile to Y/N as he steps into her apartment, his eyes darting around at the furniture and home decor.  Y/N watches as his gaze lingers on her library of books, her yellow bicycle leaning against the wall, and every other little touch of herself that she likes her home to have, and she can see the judgement that’s clearly apparent in his eyes.

“You can sit, if you want.” She mutters, turning on her heel to go back to her bedroom. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

The first thing Y/N does when she shuts her bedroom door behind herself is assess the situation in the analytical way that usually calms her.  Alright.  So a road trip across the country isn’t exactly ideal, and a road trip across the country with Harry Styles is even less ideal.  But, at the present moment, being stuck in a car with Harry seems to be the only sure way that she’ll be able to make it to Jo’s wedding on time. And for Jo, Y/N would put up with anything.  Even Harry.

As she rummages through her drawers for some leggings and a tank top, Y/N wonders what she could have possibly done to bring this much bad karma into her life.  While she gets dressed, her mind flickers back to Murphy’s Law, how everything that can go wrong will go wrong, in the worst possible way, and then she thinks about being in a confined space with Harry for five days, and—yeah.  That seems to be the worst possible thing she can think of.

Y/N remembers the first moment she’d met Harry seven years ago, and the unfortunate circumstances under which that meeting had happened.  Jo and Laure had just barely met back then, and Jo had begged Y/N to come out on a double date with her and “this really hot girl from my women studies class who I’m, like, 83% sure swings my way.”

Y/N had groaned at that comment, flopping back on her bed in the tiny dorm that she and Jo shared. “No! I have an essay due in three days that I haven’t even started!”

Jo rolled her eyes as she flopped down on Y/N’s bed as well, ignoring her own half-made bunk that was across the small room, favouring her best friend’s bed like she always did. “We both know you’re not starting that essay until the day before it’s due, and that it’s just an excuse because you don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want to go.” Y/N had agreed with a sharp and fervent nod.  She shut her laptop and pushed it to the side of her bed, knowing from experience that she wasn’t going to be able to focus and argue at the same time. “Why would I want to hang out with a complete stranger while you make googly eyes at a girl from your class?”

“Okay, first, I don’t make googly eyes.” Jo made a face at that comment, nudging Y/N’s calf with her own foot. “And second, he’s her best friend from high school, and he’s coming to visit all the way from London!”

“So?  He’s still a stranger!” Y/N pointed out, her eyes drifting to the sticky note covered novel beside her.  She picks it up and begins to flip through the marked pages as she speaks. “Knowing where he’s from doesn’t change that!”

“It should, because he’s only going to be here for a week, and Laure almost cancelled the date because she doesn’t want to miss spending time with him—” Jo grabbed one of Y/N’s pillows and tossed it at her arm, knocking the book from her hands. “Focus! So I said that he could come, but she said that she didn’t want him to be left out, so I said that I happen to have an incredibly beautiful and witty best friend who would be able to entertain Harry while we all hang out together.”

Y/N inhaled deeply as she gave Jo a withering look. “Did you already tell her I’m going?”

Jo, in return, gave Y/N her most dazzling smile. “Yes.  We’re meeting them for dinner at 7.”

Y/N shakes herself from her memories as she runs to her bathroom to toss her toiletries back into the bag she’d taken them out of the day before, working as quickly as she can. It does her no good to think of Harry in the past, she thinks, because the present Harry is currently sitting in her living room, probably snooping through her stuff, and the longer she takes to get ready to go, the more he’ll go through.  Not that there’s anything incriminating in her apartment, really—or at least, nothing incriminating in her living room.  When Y/N makes it back to her bedroom, however, to quickly zip up her suitcase, she does make sure she grabs her favourite vibrator from the box under her bed, tucking it between her half-folded underwear.  If she’s going to be gone for a week, she’ll need something to help her relax.

Within a few more minutes, Y/N is repacked and ready to go.  Her hunter green bridesmaid dress is carefully arranged on the very top of her clothes in her suitcase, all of her makeup and toiletries are packed inside, and Jo and Laure’s wedding rings are secured in little velvet boxes stashed between her socks.  As far as physical preparedness goes, Y/N is ready to go on a coast to coast road trip. As far as mental preparedness goes, however…that’s the thing that Y/N’s not quite sure about.

…

“What are you doing?”

Y/N glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, her hand still half stretched out to the radio dials in his car.  Although Harry’s green eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and his face is turned towards the long road in front of them, he still somehow manages to catch her motions, and it irritates her to no end.

“I’m changing the radio station?” Y/N answers after a moment, giving him a puzzled look. “I don’t know why you listen to this weird oldies station, but—”

“First of all—” Harry’s hands turn the steering wheel slightly to guide his car over the curve of the road, his jaw twitching as a smirk works its way onto his pink lips. “This isn’t a radio station, it’s my Spotify playlist.  I put a Bluetooth connection in Stevie a year ago. Secondly—”

“Stevie?” Y/N repeats incredulously, twisting her whole body as best she can to look at Harry straight on. “You named your car?  You’re one of those guys?”

Harry finally gives Y/N a flicker of a glance, the glare obvious in his eyes even behind his dark sunglasses.  He turns his attention back to the road before replying. “Secondly—” He continues from before, ignoring her comment as his right hand readjusts the gear shift. “Driver picks the music.”

Y/N makes a face, the corners of her lips pulling down into a grimace as she settles back into the passenger seat with her arms crossed. “So we’re just going to listen to ‘Tiny Dancer’ for the entire drive, are we?”

“Not the entire drive, no.” Harry flicks on his turn signal with a ringed hand before shoulder checking to change lanes.  Y/N glances at him, her eyes training on the strained muscles in his neck as Harry continues. “We’ll listen to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ too.”

“Great.” Y/N exhales slowly and presses her head back into the seat’s headrest, closing her eyes as Elton John’s voice continues to float through the speakers. “Really looking forward to it.”

“You know, maybe you should try to sleep.” Harry says, his voice prickled with irritation as Elton John bleeds into The Zombies. “I think you’ll be in a better mood after you take a nap.”

Y/N readjusts her crossed arms as she mutters a short reply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Still, she shuts her eyes again, twisting her body towards the window in an attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep.  Being in the car with Harry is already giving her a throbbing migraine, and they’ve only been on the road for less than two hours.  Sleeping through most of the trip will probably be the only way she’ll be able to survive it.

Despite that realization, however, her phone vibrates in her lap three minutes later, pulling her away from her thoughts.  Y/N glances down at the now lit screen, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she registers the name on the message.  Opening her phone quickly, she reads over the reply as a guilty feeling begins to build in her stomach.

BRANT: Hey, what are you doing tonight?  Want to grab some dinner?

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Y/N’s head snaps back up, her eyes jerking in Harry’s direction.  Like before, he’s watching her from the corner of his eye, catching every one of her movements, and the constant surveillance is annoying to no end.

Harry, it seems, is either oblivious to her annoyance, or is choosing to ignore it. “I asked what’s wrong. You have a weird look on your face.” Harry’s blunt words are accompanied by the sound of him tapping his ring covered fingers against the gear shift. “Everything alright?  Is it Laure and Jo?”

“No, it’s just—” Y/N glances down at her phone again, fingers poised over her keyboard as she crafts a reply in her head. “It’s no one.”

Harry snorts once, a short and harsh sound that grates against Y/N’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“It’s no one to you.” Y/N updates her retort, turning her full attention back to her phone. “My personal life is none of your business.”

Y/N: I’m sorry, I can’t!! Caught a last minute ride to New York with somebody.  Maybe once I’m back?

“Personal life, huh?” Harry clicks his tongue once, and the childish noise is even more irritating than his snort. “What, you can’t talk to me about whoever you’re shagging?”

The blunt remark hits Y/N like a shot to the chest, and she sputters for a moment as she struggles to form a response. “I—we’re not—” Taking a moment to gather herself and clear her throat quickly, Y/N avoids Harry’s gaze as her cheeks begin to burn. “We’re not like that. We’ve just…had a few dates, that’s all. There’s nothing…official.”

“You don’t need to be official to have a shag, now, do you?” Harry lifts his hand from the gear shift to fix his sunglasses, settling it back down on his jean covered thigh once he’s done. “If you don’t want to date the bloke—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/N cuts over him, pulling herself from her embarrassment enough to give him a cold glare. “He’s very nice—”

“Boring, you mean—”

“And I—this is none of your business!” Feeling the flush of embarrassment rise back to her cheeks, Y/N once again turns her attention to her passenger seat window, avoiding Harry’s pressing gaze. “I’m done talking about this.”

Harry gives an indifferent shrug. “Whatever.” He says casually, tapping his finger against his thigh as his shoulders once again lift slightly beneath his fitted black t-shirt. “I just feel bad for the guy, that’s all.”

The comment is bait. And the thing is, Y/N knows it’s bait.  She knows that the only reason Harry is saying it is to get under her skin and keep her talking about Brant, further embarrassing herself in the process. She’s been around Harry enough to know how he works, and she knows that the only reason he would say that is to bait her.  She knows she shouldn’t take it.  And yet—

“There’s no reason to feel bad for him.” Y/N scoffs as she fidgets with the position of her seatbelt, trying to stop the strap from cutting into her chest. “We’ve been talking for a month, and there’s nothing official happening.  Just because you can’t go that long without trying to stick your dick in someone—”

“You have no idea what I can do, Y/N.  Don’t pretend that you do.” Harry’s tone of voice is just as scoffing as hers, his eyes still set on the road in front of them intently as he gives his sharp response. Y/N watches as he shifts the gears of the car and speeds up, just enough to make the engine roar, but not enough to lose control of the car.  Part of Y/N wistfully wishes that he would just slip up and crash the car, just so she wouldn’t have to continue this conversation.

“All I meant,” Harry continues, unaware of the dark daydreams running through Y/N’s head. “Is that I feel bad that you’re clearly not interested in him, which is proven by the fact that you haven’t wanted him in your bed.”

Irritation flares through Y/N’s body again, stronger than the embarrassment of discussing her sex life (or lack thereof) with Harry, and she half considers just grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it into a passing cliff so she can finish them off herself. “For Christ’s sake, Harry, sex isn’t the only way to—”

“I don’t mean actually having it, that’s not a given.” Harry rolls his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he slows down for a curve in the road, his practiced hands once again changing gears with ease. “You don’t have to fuck him.  But you should want to, especially if you’ve had a month of dates, and you clearly don’t want to.”

Y/N doesn’t hide the incredulous stare of disbelief on her face as she turns to look at him. Harry’s face, though turned towards the road still, has a look of amusement mixed with contemplation on it, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control not to smack the expression off of him. Although there’s the ghost of a smirk on his strawberry coloured lips, his brow is furrowed behind his sunglasses, as if he’s thinking hard about the conversation between them.  Normally, Y/N would be amazed that Harry is thinking hard about anything.  However, given that their conversation is apparently turning into whether or not she wants to have sex with someone, Y/N’s not too thrilled about his sudden investment and serious contemplation of the topic.

Shaking her head decidedly, Y/N finally spits out a finishing phrase. “You don’t know what I want.” She says decidedly, reaching into the backseat to grab the sweater she stashed back there.  She clumsily pulls it over her body without taking off her seatbelt.  Harry keeps the AC cranked as high as he can, and she knows that he’ll kill her if she tries to change it. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think.” Harry counters, the tip of his tongue running along his bottom lip. “And I’m pretty good at reading body language.  You don’t really want him.  He—what’s his name?”

Despite her better judgement, Y/N answers in a flat voice. “Brant.”

The corners of Harry’s cherry lip twitches. “Brant.  Yeah. It’s clear you don’t really want him, and you’re wasting your time.  You’re wasting his time, too.  Poor Brant.”

“Poor—you’re such an ass, you know that?” Y/N’s irritation bubbles over as she gives Harry a nasty look, her hand squeezing her thigh hard in an attempt to ground herself in their conversation. “You can try to pretend otherwise, but you don’t know anything about me, or him, so—”

“You think I’ve been friends with Laure and Jo this long and haven’t learned anything about you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, risking a glance at her as he presses a heavier foot onto the gas. “I told you, I know more than you think, and that includes your type.”

An incredulous scoff leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she shakes her head in obvious disbelief before responding. “My type.  Right. What is my type, then?  What’s Brant like, exactly, since you seem to know everything?”

Harry goes quiet then, his brow furrowing again as he returns his full attention to the road.  With his incessant chatter gone, the only sounds in the car being “Maps” playing quietly in the background and Harry’s ringed index and forefinger tap on the steering wheel.  Y/N breathes out a long sigh of satisfaction as she relaxes back in her seat, her attention turned back to the blurred landscapes speeding by her window.  Finally, she’s managed to get Harry to stop with his ridiculous assumptions—

“You like someone that’s stable and secure, so he probably works in some corporation, or an office job. Majored in business, I’d think, but has a minor in something like mathematics.” The side profile of Harry’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought. “He wants to work his way up in the company, but never wants to actually start anything on his own.  He likes the stability of a blueprint. You’re obsessed with punctuality, so he’s probably always on time to pick you up for dates—and he has to pick you up, because you don’t drive—and your dates are never really dates. Dinners, or movies, or something like that, but they never really have that spark.” Harry’s shoulder lift slightly as he continues to make his conclusions. “Which, honestly, is probably a big reason in why you don’t want to fuck him, because as much as you like stability and safety, you also like the idea of a grand gesture, or something like that.  And you probably split the bill a lot at dinner, right?  Because it just seems fair, but really it’s because you know it’s not a real date.  But it passes the time, and he’s nice, so it’s fine.  But it’s only fine.” Harry licks his lips once more as he collects his next thoughts, his teeth catching his bottom lip just barely as his tongue retreats back into his mouth. “And he’s probably already talking about you coming to meet his family for some holiday.  Not in a romantic way, but just because he likes to plan everything in advance to every minute detail.  Just like you.”

Halfway through Harry’s speech, a flush had begun to creep up Y/N’s neck, continuing to warm her jaw and ears before settling on the apples of her cheeks.  She keeps her eyes trained on her window and her mouth pressed into a tight line, refusing to look at Harry and give him any hint of just how shocked she is that he’s guessed so much.

Harry, however, doesn’t plan on letting her get away from his inquisition. “Well?” He impatiently prompts after a moment, and even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel him looking at her, his emerald irises burning into the back of her head. “Am I right?”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat quickly, but her voice is still strained and tight when she replies. “No.”

Harry hums low in his throat, and his voice is laced with curiosity with he replies. “Really?” The irritating tap of his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music continues. “What did I get wrong?”

“He—” Y/N hates the way her skin is burning from his interrogation, how her voice shrinks smaller and smaller the more she speaks.  If Harry knows her so well, then he knows how much she loves being in control, and in this situation, with Harry managing to pull every one of her most secret inner thoughts and feelings out of her without trouble, she feels anything but in control. “He has a minor in accounting, not mathematics.”

The laugh that leaves Harry’s mouth is loud and bombastic, and his whole body curves over the steering wheel as the sound rolls out of him, his eyes just barely managing to stay on the road while his sunglasses slide down his nose. “Right.” Harry says between belly laughs, his voice stretched out in amusement. “But everything else was spot on?”

Y/N keeps her stiff body turned towards the window, refusing to engage in the conversation any further. That doesn’t stop Harry, however, who fixes his sunglasses as chuckles continue to roll out of him.

“I take it back. Maybe he’s the one wasting your time.” His hand runs through his hair lazily, fixing the curled strands that had fallen into his eyes as he laughed. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to sleep with your bore of a boyfriend—”

“He’s stable!” Y/N breaks her silence to protest Harry’s words, her voice heated. “And he’s not my boyfriend.  We’ve been seeing each other, but we’re not—it’s not exclusive, or—nothing serious—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.  It’s fine.” Harry waves off her arguments with a flick of his tattooed hand. “Besides, like you said, it’s none of my business, right?”

Y/N can practically picture what Harry looks like in this moment.  His chestnut curls are probably a mess from fidgeting with them, and his cheeks are most likely rosy beneath his stubble from the peels of laughter that left his equally red lips a moment ago.  Most infuriatingly of all, his dimples are probably present, making little indentations in his cheeks to show how entertaining he’s found embarrassing her. Bastard, she thinks, clenching her fists so hard that her nails dig into her palms, pressing them into her sides beneath her makeshift blanket.

She refuses to let herself confirm if her suspicions about Harry’s appearance are correct, and instead keeps her gaze on the blurred trees whipping by outside her window. “Right.” She mutters, leaning her head against the headrest as she closes her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

…

As soon as the paint-peeled door to the motel room swings open, Y/N knows that she’s not going to be sleeping soundly tonight.

She’s not sure what her first hint should have been.  Perhaps it was the half-flickering blue and red light of the Motel 6 sign that should have tipped her off, or the front-desk attendant who looked as though he was hiding a few secrets himself.  When Y/N and Harry had first approached the front desk of the tiny, vaguely mildew-smelling lobby, their clothes rumpled from the drive and their attitudes just as bothered, the employee in the Motel 6 uniform had barely raised an eye at them, not bothering to look up from his computer until Y/N and Harry were directly in front of him.

“Hi.” Harry had said, his voice taking on a cautious but polite tone that, Y/N remembers thinking, she would have appreciated hearing throughout their eight hour drive that day. “We’d like two rooms, please—”

“Here.” The attendant’s gum snapped in his mouth as he reached behind himself and grabbed an old key with a flimsy blue plastic tag from a wall of empty pegs. “Queen sized bed, the first door on the left.  It’ll do you two nicely.”

“Um, no.” Harry cleared his throat loudly as he gave a slight shake of his head. “We need two rooms.”

Finally, the attendant looked towards them, his eyes scanning Harry before Y/N.  The latter had self consciously pulled her sweater around her, as there was something in the attendant’s eyes that had bothered her. “Don’t have two rooms.  I got one room left.  Everything else is booked.”

Harry had glanced at Y/N then, and she knew that his thoughts mirrored hers: there was no way that they’d share a queen bed together.  No way in hell.  They’d barely survived eight hours in the same cramped car without one of them driving them off a cliff.  If Y/N had to share a bed with Harry, even for just one night, she’d probably end up smothering him in his sleep before the first snore left his obnoxious mouth.

“That’s really not an option.” Y/N had stepped forward then, crossing her arms around herself as the attendant’s eyes canvassed her again. “Isn’t there something—”

“Look, lady, I’m telling you what’s available.” The attendant’s eyes continued to flicker between her face and her chest, making Y/N’s skin crawl more and more with every word that fell from his gum-filled mouth. “The room might have a pull out chair—some do, but I couldn’t tell you which.  Now do you want to share the room with him or not?  If you don’t want to share, then I could try to find something else for just you—”

Before Y/N had the opportunity to respond to the lewd suggestion, Harry was already stepping forward, his body angling protectively in front of her own.  She watched from behind as his broad shoulders squared beneath his black t-shirt, his shoulder blades flexing as he straightened up to his full height.  When Harry answered, his voice was just as firm as it was dark, lacking its previous polite tone.

“We’ll take the room.” He had said coldly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet before tossing a few bills on the front desk. “Thanks for the help.”

Yes, Y/N thinks, all of that should have been a sign for the state of the motel room that they now find themselves standing inside.

The same mildew smell from the lobby surrounds them, permeating through every inch of air that Y/N breathes in. Dust seems to coat every surface as well, with thick layers of it covering the decades old TV and stand, the small coffee table, and the ledge of the window to her right.  To her relief, there is a small arm chair in the corner, which must be the pull out that the attendant had mentioned.  However, her relief is short lived when she sees the ratty beige comforter on the bed, and wonders if maybe sleeping in Harry’s car, which she had sworn to him that she didn’t want to do, might have been the better choice.

Harry shuts the door behind them with a firm thud, turning the deadbolt lock before attaching the chain from the door to the door frame. “Let’s keep that locked, yeah?” He mutters, walking to the window and making sure the beige curtains—everything in the room is a sea of beige, like some sort of khaki coloured nightmare—are pulled closed tightly. “I don’t trust that front-desk prick not to sneak in here.”

Y/N nods, fixing the strap of her duffel bag with her overnight clothes on her shoulder.  She’s not quite sure where to set it down, as everything around them seems to have been sitting stagnant and uncleaned for a while. “Yeah. Thanks, by the way.  For that.”

Harry acknowledges her thanks with a small grunt, barely lifting his head to look at her. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Despite her gratitude for his actions, Y/N can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his gruff response. “Jesus, can you not just say you’re welcome?”

Harry chooses to ignore her comment, and instead sets his bag down on the arm chair, unzipping it roughly. “You can take the bed.” He says simply, tossing his sunglasses into his bag before pulling out a small bag filled with what Y/N assumes are toiletries. “I’ll take the pullout.”

“Fine.” Y/N reluctantly sets her own bag down on the creaking bed, pulling back the covers to check for anything unsightly.  To her relief, the interior of the bed looks cleaner than the exterior, and she returns the covers to their previous position before grabbing her phone charger from her duffel.

Harry glances at her as she gingerly sits on the bed and plugs her phone into the wall. “I’m going to shower.” He says slowly, as if gauging her reaction to the simple phrase. “Do you, um, need in there, or—?”

“Nope.” Y/N shakes her head, her cheeks flushing slightly as she checks her messages. “You’re good.” She keeps her eyes glued to her phone until she hears the click of the bathroom door behind Harry, signalling that she’s alone.

Taking advantage of what she knows will be a rare moment of solitude over the next week, Y/N changes from her tank top and leggings into her pajamas, wishing that her past self had realized how likely it would be that she’d be sharing a room with Harry. She’d brought exactly two pairs of pajamas with her on the trip, and neither pairs were something she wanted Harry to see her in.  The first pair, a baby pink silk set she’d bought on a whim from her favourite lingerie shop, is eliminated before Y/N even considers them, leaving her with just her usual casual pajamas.  Unfortunately, Y/N’s usual casual pajamas consist of an old sports bra that she’d had since moving to L.A., and a pair of men’s boxers that she stole from an ex in college.  Still, despite her hesitancy, she knows that plaid boxers and a faded grey sports bra are better than pink silk and lace, and she changes into them quickly before sitting cross-legged on the bed and dialing Jo’s number.

Jo, like she usually does, answers on the third ring, her voice extra chipper to compensate for the verbal lecture that she knows is coming. “Hey, Y/N!  How was driving today?”

“It would have been better if I’d known Harry was driving.” Y/N sighs, rubbing her palm over the cold skin of her exposed thigh. “Shouldn’t I have been informed of that decision?”

“It completely slipped my mind, actually.” Jo says casually, and Y/N can just picture her leaning her chin into her palm. “How was the first day?  Are you calling to ask me to help bury his body in the desert?  Because, like, you know I would in a heart beat, but I think it may put a damper on mine and Laure’s nuptials if my best friend murders her best friend.”

“No one’s been murdered. Yet.” Y/N glances at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower echoing through the vents and into the bedroom. “Although a ‘help me hide the body’ phone call may be coming soon.”

“Uh oh.” Y/N hears something crackling against the speaker, and pictures Jo shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “Is it that bad?”

Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose as she contemplates the easiest way to answer Jo’s question. “He’s such an irritating ass.  He really is.” She lowers her voice, but only slightly.  If Harry’s eavesdropping, she thinks, then let him hear.  It would serve him right. “He wanted to pick a fight over every little thing, and he’s so particular about his car—did you know he named it?  He named it, Jo.  He talks about it like it’s a person!”

A loud sigh echoes through the speaker. “That’s really not that weird, you know.” Jo replies in her best peace keeping voice. “And, by the way, did you know that you’re really the only person who finds Harry irritating?  Laure adores him, and I really like him, and everyone who meets him thinks he’s very thoughtful!”

“Then they haven’t been trapped in a car with him and his playlists for eight hours.” Y/N begins to tap her fingers against her knee in a quick staccato pattern. “He practically interrogated me about Brant today, as if he has any clue about the people I date.”

“Did he?” There’s a trace of curiosity in Jo’s voice now, and Y/N can imagine her leaning forward in interest. “What did he say?”

“He said he thinks he’s boring.” Twisting a lock of her hair behind her ear as she speaks, Y/N leaves her hand resting against her cheek. “He was rude about it, too.  I didn’t ask for his opinion.”

“Well, honestly, Y/N…” Jo’s curiosity twists into hesitation. “Brant isn’t exactly the most thrilling person.  You know that.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushing for what seems to be the millionth time that day. “I’m aware of that.  But he didn’t need to be so smug about it!”

“Okay, well, what’s done is done.” Jo says as she takes on her mediator persona once again. “So there’s nothing else to do now except go to sleep, get back in the car tomorrow, and continue driving.”

The sound of the shower stream cuts off, leaving just the pitter patter of rain beginning to hit the roof of the motel as ambiant noise. “I guess.” Y/N mumbles, fidgeting with the waistband of her bra. “I’ll talk to you later.  Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After the line clicks dead, Y/N flops back on the squeaking mattress and begins to scroll through her phone, opening her work email to check if everything is running okay back home while she’s gone.  On top of all this, the last thing she needs is for her work to completely blow up in her absence.  Within minutes, Y/N becomes so engrossed in her phone that she doesn’t even notice the bathroom door creaking open and Harry walking out with just a towel around his waist.

Until she looks up, and then her mind goes completely blank.

Immediately, Y/N feels overstimulated.  There’s just…so much going on that she doesn’t even know where to look first, let alone have the ability to remind herself that she shouldn’t even be looking at Harry like this in the first place.  

Harry’s curls are soaking wet, curling down around his flushed cheeks in a way that, if it were anyone else, she’d immediately describe as attractive.  Droplets of water are clinging to every inch of his skin, his toned and tanned and tattooed skin, that seems to continue forever as her eyes travel down his bare chest, noticing every curve of his muscle.  His jade cross, which is almost the exact shade of his eyes, sits between his pronounced pectoral muscles, moving ever so slightly with each step he takes.  Y/N notices tattoos she’s never seen before, like the giant butterfly across his toned stomach, and—her mind goes blank for just a moment—two vines that are tattooed over his prominent pelvic muscles, which just barely dip beneath the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his hips.

As Y/N’s eyes glue themselves to the way Harry’s towel is moving as he walks, arousal begins to pool in her stomach, travelling all the way down to her core and back again.  For a split second, she thinks that maybe Harry is right.  Maybe she doesn’t want to fuck Brant, because she knows for certain that she’s never thought about him the way she’s thinking about Harry in this moment.

But it’s Harry, she reminds herself, as she tries to force herself to snap her gaping mouth closed. Underneath all those muscles and tattoos—and there are a lot of muscles and tattoos—it’s Harry, who annoys her to no end, who is one of the most self-absorbed individuals she’s ever met, and who has had it out for her since the day they met.

“Sorry.” Harry’s low accent snaps Y/N from her thoughts and pulls her wandering eyes back to his face. “Forgot my clothes out here.”

“It’s—” Y/N’s voice cracks in the middle of the word, still hyper-focused on just how it’s possible for one person to be as attractive as they are irritating, and she clears her throat before trying to speak again. “It’s fine.”

If Harry notices the slip in Y/N’s voice, he doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he just walks to his open bag, locking one hand firmly over his towel as the other searches through his clothes.  He pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, examining them for just a moment before nodding in satisfaction and heading back to the bathroom. Y/N almost swears that she sees him glance at her one last time before he shuts the door, but then she gets lost in the taut muscles of his back, and forgets what she’s thinking entirely.

She’s only just begun to contemplate that maybe she should pull herself together when the door opens again, and Harry exits the bathroom in a way that’s a little more presentable.  His hair is still damp, but his body is dry, proven by the faded Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s now clinging to his arms and the boxers that are hanging low on his hips. His tattooed hips.  His incredibly sexy tattooed hips that could probably—

“What are you wearing?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at her as he moves his bag from the chair to the ground.  He begins to unfold the bed from the armchair cushions to reveal a creaking twin bed, carefully stretching it out as he waits for an answer.

“I—pajamas.” Y/N glances down at herself self consciously, fixing the strap of her sports bra as she does so. “I just—I didn’t think we’d be sharing a room, so…”

Harry nods tersely as he finishes setting up the bed, his expression unreadable while he walks to the closet and grabs a set of sheets and a blanket. “Cute boxers.” He says casually. “Are they Brant’s?”

Within a flash, the intense rush of attraction and desire Y/N had been feeling is gone, and is instead replaced by the familiar irritation as she watches a smirk grow in the very corner of Harry’s mouth. “No.” She says flatly, turning her attention back to her phone.

“Interesting.” Harry says slowly, laying the sheets and blanket on the bed in a haphazard manner. “Whose are they, then?”

Y/N gets up from the bed and grabs her toiletry bag from her duffel before answering. “An ex.” She says shortly, tucking the patterned bag under her arm. “And why does it matter to you?”

The sound of the rain against the roof and windows gets louder and louder as they speak, and Harry raises his voice to be heard over the precipitation. “It doesn’t.” He shrugs as he maneuvers his lanky body under the blanket without causing the bed to fold in on itself. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, you don’t need to be curious.” Y/N opens the bathroom door, sparing one last withering glance at Harry over her shoulder.  He’s sitting up on the bed with one leg hanging out from beneath the covers as one hand plays with his hair, the other fiddles with a ring on his finger, and the way he looks at her from the corner of his eye lights a fire in Y/N’s chest.  Except she can’t tell if it’s a fire of anger or arousal.  

When she slams the door behind her, it’s her own confusion over that distinction that frustrates her more than anything else.

…

“Took you long enough.” Harry scoffs while leaning against the side of his car, his white t-shirt a contrast to the dust covered body of the black Chevy Impala.  His dark sunglasses are perched on top of his head, keeping his unruly curls out of his eyes, while his arms are crossed over his chest impatiently as he waits for an answer. “I dropped off the keys ten minutes ago.”

By way of explanation, Y/N holds up the cardboard drink tray in her hands, a brown bag balancing in between the two coffee cups. “I was getting us breakfast, Styles.  Calm down.” She walks to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and climbing in one handed. “I figured you’d be even crabbier hungry.”

“You mean you’d be crabbier without caffeine.” Harry retorts, climbing into the driver’s side in one smooth motion. “Here—” He takes the tray from her so she can buckle her seatbelt, carefully removing the two coffees and setting them in the cup holders between them. “Just be careful not to spill anything.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she picks up the coffee closest to her (she’d gotten them both black). “Why? Worried about me ruining Stevie?”

Harry reaches into his pocket, pulling out his keys as he gives her an irritated look. “Yes, actually. I’ve put a lot of work into her.” The car roars to life as Harry turns the key in the ignition, buckling his own seat as the motor warms up. “Adding on two thousand miles to her in five days is already worrisome enough, and that’s not even counting the other two thousand she’ll get on the way back.”

Y/N doesn’t respond to the comment, and instead lets the sound of Harry’s playlist fill the silence of the car as Harry peels out of the Motel 6 parking lot.  She’ll be glad to leave that place behind, she thinks, and focus on finding something better—and more private—for tonight, wherever they end up.

Harry, however, doesn’t seem content with letting silence fall between them. “How did you sleep last night?” He asks after a few moments, one hand on the steering wheel as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye suspiciously, Y/N reaches into the paper bag and grabs her Danish, taking a small bite before answering. “Not great.”

“Was the bed bad?” Harry asks curiously, his brow furrowing while his eyes stay glued to the road, moving only to glance at the occasion sign directing him back to the highway. “The pull out wasn’t great, but I’ve slept on worse.  I would’ve thought the bed would be better than that.”

“No, it—I mean, the bed wasn’t amazing, but it—” Y/N clears her throat and swallows the bite of pastry in her mouth. “I, uh, I don’t sleep well when it’s raining.”

At this new information, Harry’s eyebrow quirks up, and he risks a look in her direction to attempt to read her face.  Y/N’s own eyes are focused on the Danish in her hands, refusing to meet his gaze as she lifts the pastry to her mouth to take another bite.

“You don’t?” Harry asks after a moment, the confusion in his voice almost visible within the space between them. “But it’s like white noise, isn’t it?  Supposed to be relaxing, and all that.”

Y/N gives a half shrug of her shoulders. “It’s—well, it’s not the rain, exactly, just—what it’s usually paired with.” Y/N hopes that her clear hesitancy to answer will be enough of a signal to Harry for him to drop the subject.  Harry, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on the reluctance in Y/N’s voice; or, at least, he doesn’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“What do you mean, what it’s paired with?” Harry takes a small sip of his own coffee, careful of the temperature of the liquid. “Like…wind, or—?”

Y/N debates back and forth with herself internally, but she knows that Harry won’t drop the subject without getting a satisfying answer. “Thunder.” She answers finally, setting her coffee down in her cup holder before turning her gaze towards her window. “I don’t like thunderstorms, ever since I was a little kid, and when it’s raining, it always feels like thunder is around the corner.  Puts me on edge, like I’m waiting for it.  And I can’t sleep.”

“So you never sleep when it rains?” Harry asks slowly, and the tone of incredulous disbelief in Harry’s voice is enough for Y/N to be able to imagine the expression on his face. His forest green eyes wide, strawberry pink lips agape, brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw slack as he contemplates a response to a grown woman admitting that she’s afraid of thunder. The image in her head is enough to make the back of her neck flush.

There’s a tightness in the back of her throat, and Y/N attempts to clear it again before answering. “Never.”

“Huh.” Harry taps his fingers against the gear shift in succession three times. “You’d hate London, then.”

The casual comment catches Y/N by surprise, but she doesn’t allow herself to lower her guard. “That’s why I don’t live in London.” She mumbles the words as her fingers pick at the napkin wrapped around her Danish. “I picked L.A. for a reason.  It has lots of heat, barely any rain, and I’m reasonably close to Disneyland whenever I feel like I need something magical.” The last part slips out without Y/N thinking, and the flush creeps further up her neck as a surprised laugh leaves Harry’s mouth.

“Something magical?” Harry repeats, new crinkles appearing next to his eyes as he laughs, as if the dimples that crease his cheeks aren’t proof of his amusement enough. “Do you frequently feel like you need something magical?”

It’s Y/N’s turn to give an incredulous look now, her body half twisting towards Harry to observe his confusing reactions. “How did I just admit that I’m afraid of thunder, and the thing you’re focusing on is that I like Disney?”

Harry shrugs at her words, flicking on his turn signal to exit towards the highway. “I don’t know.” He says as he peers over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. “I mean, everyone has fears.  Not liking thunder isn’t exactly uncommon, you know.  However, hearing that Ms. Serious Type A Perfectionist likes magic—” His grin grows bigger by the second. “Now that’s surprising.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N mutters, finishing her Danish in a few more bites.  She waits until she’s entirely finished chewing before continuing the conversation over the voice of Billy Joel coming through the speakers. “Since I’ve admitted something I’m afraid of…” She starts, glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s only fair that you admit something, too.”

Harry snorts in response, his hand freezing its movement with his coffee cup still half lifted to his lips. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N hums as she slips off her shoes in order to pull her legs beneath her to fold into a cross-legged position on the car seat. “Not so much fun when it’s your turn, huh? C’mon, what’s the Brit scared of? Not enough biscuits for afternoon tea?”

A short and harsh breath of air leaves Harry’s nose, half a snort as he sets his coffee down in his cupholder. “No, actually, diminishing biscuit levels are a low level fear for me.”

“Then what’s a higher one?” Y/N prods, watching as Harry’s neck muscles tense as he shoulder checks to change lanes.  There’s something about the movement that catches her eye, but she can’t quite figure out why—or rather, she can, but she’d rather pretend that she’s unaware.

“Uh…” Harry’s fingers nimbly switch on his turn signal before he transitions to the left lane, his right hand moving the gear shift to its desired place. “Crowds.  I’m not a fan of big crowds, really.  Like when everyone’s pressed together, so tight that you can’t breathe, and you can’t hear yourself think because it’s so loud…yeah. I don’t like that.”

The simple answer surprises Y/N as much as she imagines her answer surprised Harry. “Crowds?” She repeats back to him, a forgotten memory of long gone conversations coming to the forefront of her mind. “But what about, like, concerts and stuff?  Laure always told me when she’d go to shows with you…”

“That’s different.” Harry shrugs as one of his ringed hands comes to his lips, rubbing over them slowly as he contemplates his next words. “I…When I’m at concerts, I always go with someone, and if we’re in the general seating area, where there’s a lot of people, I always stick with them.  Like, sometimes, if it’s getting crowded, or people are pushing, Laure will hold my hand, so…” Redness begins to creep up Harry’s pale neck, staining the tops of his ears a deep berry colour as he trails off.

Not for the first time since their conversation began, Y/N is surprised at how candid they’re being with each other.  As she watches Harry’s blush grow, she feels her own diminish, a physical representation of her trading her embarrassment for something more empathetic.

“I get it.” Y/N says after a moment, once it’s clear that Harry isn’t going to continue. “When there’s thunderstorms, um, I feel better when I’m with someone, or talking to someone. It makes me feel less…”

“Alone?” Harry finishes for her, his eyes flickering from the road to her profile.  His green irises capture hers for longer than they should, his focus completely gone from the stretch of highway for at least five seconds before Harry’s attention turns back to driving. “Yeah.” He says slowly, pulling his sunglasses down from his hair to hide his eyes. “Yeah, less alone. It helps.”

Y/N nods slowly, unable to look away from Harry’s side profile.  It’s apparent that he’s on edge after their conversation, and she knows her body language is the same.  Tight in the shoulders, hands clenched, back rigidly straight.  And yet, seeing her own body language reflected in front of her bothers her.  Part of her wants to reach out and take Harry’s hand, soothe him like Laure does in the crowd of a concert, but she knows that’s ridiculous.  It’s ridiculous, and it’s Harry, and Harry, of all people, does not need her comfort.  Not in the slightest.

She watches as Harry clenches his fist on top of his thigh.

…

“Is this really necessary?” Y/N asks, slamming her car door shut as Harry does the same on the other side of the vehicle.  She leans over the roof of the car, crossing her arms on the cool metal as she tilts her head to the side in an inquisitive manner.  The clouds in the sky are getting darker by the minute, signalling the beginning of the storm that canceled her flight, and the angry black colour above their heads is making Y/N anxious.

Harry, however, seems unbothered by the gathering storm, and nods tersely as he pushes his sunglasses up onto his head before opening the door to the backseat and grabbing his army green jacket. “Of course it’s necessary.” He says, slipping the jacket over his broad shoulders before slamming the door shut and locking the car. “I’ve never been to Utah before.  I want a souvenir.”

“Okay, but—” Y/N follows Harry as he walks towards the dilapidated building in front of them. “Here? Really?  Does this seem like the best place?”

Harry glances at her over his shoulder at her, pausing his long strides to look up at the building he spotted from the highway.  If the chipped grey paint that was once pastel blue and dust-coated windows are any sign, the structure is probably older than Harry and Y/N combined, with a splintered front porch wrapping around its small perimeter.  The building has one faded sign above the door that reads “SOUVENIRS/SNACKS” in hand-painted capital letters, and seems to be hanging onto the outside façade by three small bolts and sheer willpower.  Y/N’s almost certain that she’s seen this exact building in a horror movie before someone gets murdered, and while getting back into the car with Harry isn’t at the top of her list of wants, it’s certainly preferable to getting stabbed to death by a serial killer.

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Harry waves off her concern without a second thought about the appearance of the shop. “If you’re really bothered, you can wait in the car.”

Y/N considers it for a moment, but decides against it.  She needs to stretch her legs, and honestly, Harry seems too trusting.  He probably wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was sketchy until their knife was in his back.  And, seeing as how he has the keys to the only getaway car available, Y/N kind of needs him around without a stab wound carved into his flesh.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She sighs, pulling her own jacket around her tighter as she steps over the worn wooden steps to the door. “We’re on a schedule.”

When Harry pushes open the door, the smell of stale air hits Y/N before anything else.  Despite one open window and a fan in the corner of the shop that’s being used in a weak attempt to circulate the air, it feels like nothing fresh has been in the shop for a while.  Y/N shoots a glance at Harry, caution and warning written all over her face.

While Harry sees her glance, he waves off her concern, turning his attention to the few shelves and wire racks around the small shop that are lined with inventory.  Within a few moments, he’s entertaining himself in the post card section, comparing different photos of the Utah landscape to each other with great care and concern.  Y/N observes him for a few moments before wandering off on her own towards the snack section of the shop.  Although there are a few items that she thinks about picking up, the thick layer of dust over the packaging puts her off from purchasing them.  She grimaces as she continues walking, stopping in front of a tower of silver key chains in the back corner of the shop.  Most of them, she finds, are crosses and bible verses, and all of them give her an ominous feeling in her stomach.  Y/N runs her finger over a miniature silver version of the Ten Commandments, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she does so.

“I think we should go, Harry.” She calls to him without turning around, setting the key chain back down on the rack carefully. “Just pick your post card and—Harry?”

When Y/N turns around, Harry’s broad figure is nowhere to be seen.  She walks back over to the post card section slowly, her brow furrowed with confusion as a knot tightens in her stomach.  Where could he be? She wonders, running her hand along the dusty wire rack in front of her.  It’s not like there’s anywhere for him to go in the small shop, and she would have heard if he left, or if he drove away.

“Harry?” She calls again, her steps slower now as worry fills her voice. “Where did you—fuck—!” Y/N screams as something grabs her from behind, its fingers digging into her sides harshly.  She whips around to find Harry standing over her, loud outbursts of laughter spilling from his strawberry pink mouth at the look on her face.

An indignant flush rushes over Y/N’s face. “You’re such an ass!” She hisses, gripping his shoulders and shoving his laughing frame away from her. “I swear, you’re like a five year old—”

“Did I worry you?” Harry snickers between his words, a wicked look of mischief alight in his dark green eyes. “Were you afraid something happened to me?”

Y/N’s cheeks burn with anger as she turns away from him, crossing her arms defiantly. “No.  I wish something had happened to you.  Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your immature antics.”

Harry’s lips stay quirked up in a smirk as he follows her, his voice falling into a singsong tone. “You were worried.” He insists, chuckles still rolling out of him every few moments. “I could tell.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N snaps at him in an irritated voice. “Just pay for your stupid post card and let’s go.”

“I already did. There’s a sign on the desk saying the clerk is out for lunch, so I left some money.” Harry nods to the small desk in the corner with a few dollars left tucked under the dusty service bell. “I think that’ll cover it, yeah?”

“Whatever.” Y/N can’t resist shoving Harry one last time before walking towards the shop door. “That’s enough.  Let’s go. I want to make it to the motel before the storm hits.”

…

The nice thing about Grand Junction, Colorado, Y/N realizes, is that their motels have multiple single rooms available on short notice.  While she didn’t realize the importance of this fact before this trip started, having an evening of solitude and her own stable space away from Harry for the first time in two days is nothing short of a blessing.

When she gets inside her private motel room, which, while still shabby, is leagues above their previous motel, Y/N locks the door before breathing a sigh of relief.  Just the silence in the room is wonderful, and even though she knows Harry is right next door, having a wall between them is a luxury that she doesn’t take for granted.  When she showers, she doesn’t have to worry about being quick, or toweling off as fast as she can so she can get dressed inside the bathroom without Harry seeing. There’s no need to worry about anyone hearing Y/N sing quietly to herself under the (albeit weak) stream of the shower, nor is there an uncomfortable stick of her sports bra to her back caused by water droplets that she couldn’t reach in her hurry to dry off. And after her shower, with some of the knots from her back finally worked out, Y/N is able to stretch out on the double bed in the center of the room, her phone in her hand as she reaches for the takeout menus stacked on the bedside table.  She peruses the menus available before settling on Chinese takeout, and within five minutes, her order of a two entrée plate and fried rice is on its way.

Y/N sighs gently as she leans back on the pillows, wishing that she and Harry had stopped at a liquor store before coming to the motel.  She knows she could probably walk to one, but now that she’s showered and comfortable, the last thing she wants to do is wander around Grand Junction until she finds a bottle of Moscato.  Instead, Y/N flicks on the TV with a click of the ancient remote, and begins scrolling through the channels until she finds a rerun of Dirty Dancing that’s just starting.

An amused yet wry smile appears on Y/N’s lips.  It’s this movie’s fault that she and Harry are on an impromptu road trip, really. Jo and Laure both loved it, and were insistent that they had to get married at a resort in the Catskills similar to one from the film.  As her two friends cross her mind, Y/N settles into the sheets as Baby begins her narration, contemplating whether or not she should call Jo to check in.  Just as the thought pops into her head, however, the phone rings.

Y/N answers within a moment, not bothering to check the caller ID.  She and Jo had a strange habit of calling each other the moment the other thought of it, and when she raises her phone to her ear, she expects to hear her best friend’s familiar voice reply. “Hello?”

What voice she actually hears, however, surprises her. “Hey, Y/N.  I’m glad I got through.” Brant says easily, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “How are you?”

“Brant!” Y/N jerks up in bed in surprise, the remote falling from its perch on her stomach onto the sheets. “I—I’m fine.  How are you?”

“Oh, alright.  Just busy with work, but that’s the usual.” Y/N can practically picture the neutral expression on his face, and how he’d shrug his shoulders as he speaks. “How’s the road trip?  I can’t imagine driving for as long as you have to drive.”

“It’s…it’s alright, yeah.” Y/N speaks slowly as she puts her phone on speaker, balancing it on her knee while her hands begin to fidget with her rings. “Long, but not too bad.”

“Well, that’s good.” Brant clears his throat thickly, as if what he’s about to say makes him uncomfortable. “I miss you, though.  And our weekly dinners.”

A feeling of guilt washes over Y/N.  Truthfully, besides Harry’s inquisition on the first day of driving, Brant has barely crossed her mind.  Granted, he isn’t usually at the forefront of her mind while she’s in L.A., either, but for the last few days, her thoughts have been constantly consumed by the stress of making it to the wedding and her annoyance and frustration with Harry.  

“Y/N?” Brant’s voice crackles through her speaker again. “Are you there?

“I—yeah.” She says quickly, pulling herself from her thoughts. “Sorry, just—long day.  I’m tired.”

“I can imagine.” Brant says sympathetically, but there’s something in his tone that almost sounds patronizing. “Who are you driving with?  Have you been taking turns?”

Y/N pauses the fidgeting of her rings before snatching her phone from its balanced place on her knee. She quickly opens her messages and scrolls to her thread with Brant, searching through the text bubbles for a reminder of what she’d said to him.  Had she not told him that she was traveling with Harry?

Within a moment, Y/N confirms that she hadn’t.  All she had said was that she was getting a ride with someone.  Why had she done that, she wonders?  She’s sure she’s mentioned Harry in passing to Brant at least once.  When she talked about the wedding, probably.  As she thinks about it more, however…what had she told Brant about the wedding?  About Jo? How much does he actually know about her personal life?  Most of their dinner conversations revolve around work, or some book both of them have read.  Had the topic ever come up in detail?

“I’m, um, I’m driving with one of Laure’s friends.” Y/N brings the phone closer to her mouth as her other hand works its way to her mouth.  She begins to chew on a hangnail absentmindedly between her words, something she always does when her nerves begin to get to her.  She can’t count the number of times Jo has grasped her wrist and pulled her hand from her mouth to chastise her about the habit. “We’re…we’re in Colorado now.”

“Oh, Colorado.  That’s nice.” Brant says over the rustling of papers. “Listen, Y/N, I’ve got some work to get back to, but I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Uh, yeah.  Sure.  I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N nods, and then the line goes dead.  Out of curiosity, Y/N checks the length of the call.  The time 3:09 blinks back at her.

Tossing her phone back down on the covers, Y/N resumes her relaxed position in bed, despite being anything but relaxed after that phone call.  She should feel guilty, she thinks, for not telling Brant about Harry. But then again, what’s there to tell? She said she was getting a ride with one of Laure’s friends, and that’s true.  She hadn’t lied.  And even if Brant did know that the friend is Harry, why would he care?  It’s just Harry.  There’s no reason for Brant to be alarmed, because there’s nothing going on. And she and Brant…Y/N glances down at the call time again.  Things are different between them.  There’s…they’re comfortable as they are, she thinks.  They’re not dating, and they’re comfortable like that.  So there’s no reason to tell him about Harry, because there’s nothing to tell.  Nothing at all.

Y/N refocuses on the TV screen, where Patrick Swayze is dancing in a tight black tank top. Right.  Nothing to tell.

…

When Y/N leaves her motel room the next morning with her bag over her shoulder, Harry is already waiting by his car, leaning against the dusty black body with two coffee cups in his hands.  He’s dressed in another black t-shirt (Y/N wonders just how many identical copies of the same shirt Harry has) with usual jeans covering his long legs.  His curls are tied out of his face with a dark green bandana, and Y/N knows that if his eyes weren’t covered with his black sunglasses, the bandana would make them even brighter than they usually are.

“Hey.” Harry calls to her, extending a ringed hand that holds a coffee cup towards her as she walks over. “I got the coffee this morning.  You drink it black, right?”

Y/N nods as she takes the cup from him, careful not to brush over his fingers with her own. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harry crosses around to the back of the car, opening the trunk with a turn of his key. “Here.” Harry holds out his free hand for Y/N’s bag, taking it from her and setting it down on top of the suitcases in the back. “I got it.”

Y/N regards Harry with a bemused look as she wraps both hands around her coffee cup. “Thanks?” She says again, more questioning this time as she looks at him strangely. “I can do that myself, you know.”

“I know.  I’m just trying to be polite.” Harry’s voice takes on its usual bite like he’s flipping a switch. “Is that alright with you, princess?”

Within a second, the familiar irritation with Harry returns to Y/N, and it’s almost comforting to snap back at him in a testy voice. “Don’t call me that.”

Harry snickers under his breath, and although the sound makes Y/N’s annoyance grow, she detects a different tone in it than a few days before.  Before she can place a finger on why it sounds different, however, Harry is climbing into the driver’s side of the car and starting the engine.

The two of them are silent as Harry finds his way back to the highway, and they stay in that silence for the first few hours of that day’s leg of the trip.  As the third hour begins to pass, Y/N is content listening to the throaty and captivating voice of Stevie Nicks fill the cab of the car. By the second chorus of the song, Y/N is humming along quietly, her foot tapping to the same beat that Harry’s fingers are spelling out against the steering wheel.  It’s comfortable, she thinks after a moment.  The silence between them.  It feels different than it did on their first day, when Y/N was questioning her choice to get into a car with Harry and commit to a 42 hour drive. The silence seems to be fueled more by comfort than tension.  It’s…refreshing.

A memory from the first day ignites in the back of her mind, a spark so bright and obvious that she can’t believe it took her so long to see it. “Stevie.” Y/N says suddenly, turning to Harry as a smile spreads over her face. “You named your car Stevie, as in Stevie Nicks?”

Harry laughs, his shoulders moving up and down beneath his black t-shirt from the motion.  One hand lifts from the steering wheel and points a finger gun at her. “Took you long enough.  I was wondering how many days you’d have to listen to my music to get it.”

Y/N gives his hand a light shove. “I was too distracted by the fact that you named your car.” She rolls her eyes, bringing her bottle of water to her lips for a short sip. “I still think it’s weird.”

“It gives her character.” Harry defends himself as he rubs a hand over the steering wheel absentmindedly. Y/N can see the mirth swirling around in his light irises. “A bit of personality.  Just because you don’t value personalities doesn’t mean anyone else doesn’t.”

“I don’t value personalities?” Turning in her seat to stare at Harry head on, Y/N raises an eyebrow in question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just your taste in men, that’s all.” Harry says it casually, like it really can just be a “that’s all” type of sentence.

Within a heart beat, the comfortable atmosphere in the car turns to ice as Y/N straightens in her seat, her spine tense, tightening every nerve in her body along with it. “What the fuck does that mean?”

When Harry glances at her again, his eyes darken, his guard going up as he senses the shift in Y/N’s tone. “Nothing, just…motel rooms have thin walls.” Harry mumbles, having the decency to keep his eyes on the road as his ears redden slightly. “And from what I overheard, Brant doesn’t exactly seem…stimulating.”

Y/N sputters indignantly for a moment, unable to form a coherent response as anger rises in her chest. “You—” She sucks in a quick breath that hits the back of her throat harshly. “You eavesdropped on me?”

Harry licks his lips once, clearing his throat once before answering.  The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel has resumed, his nervousness apparent in his movements as well as his facial expressions. “Not on purpose.  I told you, the walls were thin.”

“So put in head phones!” Y/N exclaims, gripping her water bottle so tight that her fingers begin to strain in protest against the metal exterior.  She has half a mind to throw the bottle at Harry in her anger, barely able to talk herself down from the ledge of the idea.

Harry’s posture shifts in his seat as his shoulders square, and Y/N can practically see his defensive side emerge from within his chest. “It’s not like you two were having phone sex.” He rolls his eyes at the idea. “It was the most boring conversation in the world, and lasted, what, three minutes?  Makes you wonder how long he lasts in other ways, doesn’t it?”

“Stop the car.” Y/N’s voice is low and void of emotion as she replies, her body turned back forward in her seat.

“Am I wrong?  It’s not like you know for sure—”

Anger bubbles over in Y/N’s chest, cancelling out any rational thought she has inside her and leaving pure, unadulterated fury. “Stop the car, Harry!  Now!”

Harry half jumps in his seat when Y/N yells, and he quickly jerks the car to the side of the highway without so much as a turn signal.  Pulling her seatbelt off as he pulls over, Y/N is out the door before Harry can so much as put the car into neutral.  While her more rational mind would tell her that she has nowhere to walk to along a highway in Colorado as the sky darkens to an angry black above them, the only thing she’s thinking of is getting away from Harry.  Stupid, self-absorbed, ignorant, and rude Harry.

“Y/N—” The sound of Harry scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind him pushes her to walk faster. “Y/N, come back—”

Y/N turns around on her heel fast and hard, heart pounding so fast that she thinks it might break through her ribs. “What is your problem?” She hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why do you insist on being so—so nasty about him?  You don’t even know him!”

Harry freezes where he is as the wind whips his hair around his face, his bandana barely keeping the messy curls in place. “I don’t—” His speech falters, and he sucks in a sharp breath before continuing. “I don’t think I’m being…nasty.”

“Well, you are!” Y/N takes a deep breath in, placing her hands over her stomach as it expands with air.  It’s a trick that Jo taught her back in high school, as a way to ground herself to her body. Feeling the movement of air in and out of her lungs helps calm her, even if by just a fraction. “Brant is just—he’s someone I’m talking to.  We’ve gone on dates, but we’re not dating, and even though we’re not dating, that doesn’t mean that you can insinuate things about him, or eavesdrop on our private conversations!”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he listens to Y/N speak, waiting until she’s finished her speech to respond in a harsh and clipped tone. “I already told you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. And I’m teasing you.  It’s supposed to be a joke.  Isn’t that what friends do?”

“But we’re not friends, Harry.” Y/N’s voice is flat, the fury in her tone replaced with a hollow emptiness. “We’re not friends.  I don’t need you teasing me about a boy like we’re buddies, or whatever, because we’re not.”

Although Harry opens his mouth to respond, no words cross over the edges of his pink lips.  His jaw tightens even more as he closes his mouth again, and Y/N can see a million things flitting through his green irises, which are getting darker by the moment.  Y/N’s not certain if the darkness is from her words, or the black sky rolling above them that’s sapping the light of day from the atmosphere, and she’s not sure if she can take the answer either way.  Part of her knows that maybe—just maybe—she’s blown this whole thing out of proportion, and maybe she should examine why Harry making fun of Brant bothers her like it does.  It’s not like she’s unaware of his shortcomings, she thinks, but then she wonders why she’s now seeing them as shortcomings, when a week ago, she saw them as positives.  Y/N never has to worry about Brant being too much for her, or forgetful, or scatterbrained—he’s organized, and secure, and stable, and that’s what she likes.  It’s always been what she likes.

Harry’s delayed response tears Y/N from her thoughts. “Not friends.  Got it.” He mutters, rubbing his hand over his stubbled and taut cheeks. “Just get back in the car, then.  Let’s go.”

…

“Hello!  My name is Gracie, I’ll be your server today.” The waitress in the tiny diner smiles at Harry and Y/N, a notepad in one hand and a half filled coffee pot in the other. “Can I get you guys anything to start?”

“Coffee.” Harry and Y/N speak at the same time, each person’s eyes flickering to the other before looking away.  Y/N keeps her eyes focused on her off-white ceramic coffee cup as Gracie fills it, refusing to make eye contact with Harry again.

The last hour has been almost unbearable.  After they got back in the car, Harry had turned off his playlist, and for the first time since the road trip had begun, true silence had fallen between them. Y/N had thought she would like it, but truthfully, it had been the worst thing she’d ever heard.  Every few minutes, she’d hear Harry shift, or sigh, or tap a tense finger against the gear shift, and she wished that she could say something, but she didn’t.  She couldn’t.  She’d been grateful when he wordlessly exited the highway and parked in front of a diner, as the conversations of stopped truck drivers and the clatter of a kitchen was a good distraction from their argument.

A movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and Y/N glances up just enough to watch Harry slip a pat of butter into his coffee, stirring the contents of the cup with his spoon until it’s melted together.  She wrinkles her nose in disgust, and almost opens her mouth to make a comment (“Really, Harry?  Just add milk like a regular person, instead of drinking a cup of grease.”), but bites it back before it can fall off her tongue.  They’re not exactly in the position to make quips to each other, she thinks, especially after she told him that they weren’t friends.

Which they’re not. They’ve never been friends; that fact isn’t exactly news.  Not getting along has been Harry and Y/N’s signature since the day they first met. So why is there a pit in Y/N’s stomach that gets deeper every time Harry looks away from her?

The click of heels alerts Y/N of Gracie’s returned presence before her voice does. “Have you two decided what you��d like to eat?”

“I’ll have a turkey club, please, on whole wheat bread.” Harry folds up his plastic menu carefully. “And a glass of water on the side.”

Gracie nods, taking the menu from him before turning her eyes to Y/N. “And for yourself?”

“Um—” Y/N had barely glanced at the menu, too lost in her thoughts to think about it. “I’ll just have a burger, please.  And a water, as well.”

Gracie nods as she writes down the order, taking Y/N’s menu and giving the pair one last smile before disappearing to the kitchen.  A fresh wave of silence falls between Harry and Y/N as each of them sips their coffee, both of them doing their best not to look at the person sitting across from them.

Y/N’s best, however, is not up to her usual standard, as she can’t stop herself from stealing a few quick glances while Harry looks out the window.  He hasn’t shaved in a couple days, she notices, as the stubble on his cheeks and chin is even darker than it was the day before.  There’s a permanent crease between his eyebrows, his face as tense as she’s ever seen it, and a darkness over his whole expression overall. It’s like there’s a new wall up between the two of them, and Y/N’s never felt more detached from him.  Which, honestly, is saying something.

She’s looking back down at her own half empty coffee when Harry finally speaks a few minutes later, his voice just as tense as his expression.

“Shit.” He says in a low voice, and then the next sound Y/N hears is that of someone ruffling through pockets.  

She looks up to see Harry doing just that, his hands digging through the outer pockets of his army green jacket. “What?” She asks, her curiosity outweighing her need to continue the silent treatment. “What is it?”

“I had the vows in my—my pocket, but they’re—” Harry jams his hands inside a pocket sewn into the lining of his jacket, and Y/N watches as his face visibly relaxes. “Oh, thank God. I thought they fell out.”

Harry removes his hand from his pocket, two folded up notes clutched within his hand.  Each one is labeled carefully, one with Jo written in Laure’s neat penmanship, and the other with Laure scribbled in Jo’s quick writing.  

Y/N recognizes the papers immediately.  It’s easy, really, considering the amount of time she spent helping Jo rewrite draft after draft of the same sentiments. “You have Jo and Laure’s vows?” She questions, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Why?”

“The same reason you have their wedding bands.” Harry shrugs as he turns the papers over in his careful fingers, making sure not to crease them. “They forgot them.”

A small smile plays on the edge of Y/N’s lips at the memory of her forgetful friends. “Right.  Of course.”

Harry’s eyes flicker to Y/N’s mouth at the sign of movement, and he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth before responding. “Want to take a look?”

“At their vows?” Y/N looks around, as if someone could be watching and monitoring them. “I—that doesn’t seem right.”

“Fine.  Then don’t look at them.” Harry says easily, setting the note labeled Laure on the table between them.  His nimble fingers unfold the paper labeled with Jo’s name as his green irises begin to scan across the sheet. “I’ll read them.”

It only takes a few seconds of watching Harry read over the words for Y/N to crack. “Wait.” She brings her thumb to her mouth, chewing anxiously on her cuticle as Harry quirks an eyebrow at her. “Will you read them to me?”

When she asks, Harry spends so long staring at her that Y/N thinks he’ll refuse.  His jade eyes meet hers with an intensity that almost makes her flinch, but Y/N holds his stare, refusing to be the first to back down. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Harry gives a sharp nod, looking down at the note before he starts to read from the beginning.

“‘My darling Jo’,” He begins, his voice soft and low, his accent thick. “‘It seems so strange that this day is finally here.  I feel like we’ve been building up to it ever since the day we first met, and yet it’s always seemed so far away.  When I was a little girl, I always’…” Harry trails off as his eyes continue to move across the words, and he clears his throat before attempting to continue to read aloud. “‘I always thought that there was something wrong with me.  I thought that the things that I felt, and the way that I loved, was dirty.  I thought it was wrong.  I thought that—that I was going against God, and against nature, and that I was going to be punished for it.  And then I met you’.”

Harry pauses to take a sip of his coffee, and Y/N does the same.  There’s a shine beginning to appear in his eyes, and Y/N recognizes it as the beginning of tears because she feels the same thing brimming in her own eyes. She feels a bit guilty for reading the vows, but reasons that it’s for the best.  If she were to hear them for the first time at the wedding, she doesn’t think she’d be able to keep it together.

“‘The moment I met you, I knew that the way I loved could never be wrong, or be dirty, because I was loving you’.” Harry’s accent grows thicker the more he reads, and although Y/N hasn’t seem Harry in many different emotional states, she can tell that this is a sign of how the vows are affecting him. “‘Being with you could never be wrong, and God could never get mad at me for it, because only God could create someone as perfect as you.  I promise to love you when you wake me up at 3 A.M. because you’ve stolen all the blankets, and I promise to love you at 6 P.M. when you almost burn down our apartment while trying to cook for me.  I promise to support you through everything, listen to your stories, and watch in wonder as you make a difference in this world.  I promise to never let my anger get the best of me, and to always give you the benefit of the doubt.  I promise to love every version of yourself that you grow into, just as I’ve loved all the versions you once were.  I promise to love you in every way humanly possible, and even in ways that aren’t humanly possible.  I promise to love, period.  I’—” Harry’s voice cracks, and he glances up at Y/N as he clears his throat to continue. “‘I love you’.”

Y/N doesn’t realize just how emotional listening to Harry read Laure’s vows has made her until the first tear wells over the corner of her eye.  She turns her head towards the window to wipe it away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, but from the way Harry is looking at her when she turns back around, she knows that he caught what she was doing.

“That, um—” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to attempt to clear the emotion from her throat. “Wow.”

Harry carefully folds Laure’s vows back up, taking extra care to re-crease the paper exactly how it had been folded. “I didn’t know she…felt like that.” Harry says after a moment, his voice quiet. “Like she was…wrong.”

Y/N, unsure of what to say, just nods while reaching for Jo’s vows in front of her.  Like Harry, she takes great care when unfolding the paper, smoothing it gently between her hands. “I’ll read Jo’s, then?”

Harry nods as he takes a sip of his water. “Sure.”

Y/N licks her lips once, wetting them with what little saliva she has in her mouth before beginning. “‘Laure’,” She starts, emotion already rising up to form a lump in her throat. “‘I don’t even know where to begin.  I’ve tried to write down all the ways I love you a million different times, but I can never seem to find the right words.  The problem is, I don’t think that there is a big enough word to describe what I feel for you.  ‘Love’ is only four letters, and four letters is just not enough to contain everything I feel.  ‘Adoration’ is nine letters, but even that doesn’t come close.  I think the best way I can describe it is ‘permanent’.” Y/N pauses her reading to take a long gulp of water, the coolness soothing the dry and parched feeling in her mouth and throat. “‘Anyone who knows me knows that I have trouble committing.  The idea of having something forever, of being in one place, normally terrifies me. But the idea of having you forever, and being in one place with you forever…that’s all I want.  I want us to be permanent to each other.  Even when we struggle, and we will struggle, I know that we won’t fall apart.  Committing to you isn’t any trouble.  It’s as easy as breathing.  I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us.  I love you, permanently.  I’ll love you when you’re sick and gross, and I’ll love you when you’re old with a bad hip.” A small laugh falls out of Y/N’s mouth before she continues. “I’ll love you when you haggle at flea markets for the best prices, and I’ll love you when you do something so stupid that it makes me want to tear my hair out.  I love you permanently, and I want all of our family and friends to witness me saying that.  I’ll never back out, or bail, or run away from you.  You’re the one thing in my life that’s never felt hard. You’re my home base, and my north star, and you bring me back down to Earth whenever I need it.  I love you permanently, Laure.  I’ll never stop’.”

As she finishes reading, Y/N folds the paper back up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before grabbing the other note sitting on the table.  She pushes them towards Harry, her misty eyes unable to meet his. “Here. Put these away again, somewhere safe.”

Harry takes the vows from her, slipping them back inside his inner jacket pocket for safekeeping. “It’s probably—” He clears his throat once more, and Y/N knows that the vows have caught him in his chest just as they’ve caught her. “It’s probably good that we read them now, so that we’re…prepared for the ceremony.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wraps her hands around her coffee mug, the warm ceramic surface heating her cold fingers. “You’re right.  They really…love each other.”

Harry taps his fingers against the table top, a concentrative and thoughtful expression on his face.  His eyebrows are knit together above his stormy green eyes, and his pink tongue swipes over his pinker lips once before he speaks. “You know, Laure is my closest friend.  I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Immediately registering the tone of Harry’s voice, Y/N’s head snaps up, her own eyes becoming stormy as they meet his own. “Jo would never hurt Laure.” Y/N says defensively, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking up at even the suggestion of her friend hurting someone. “Didn’t you hear her vows?  I’ve never heard her sound so sure of something in her entire life.”

Harry’s jaw flexes at the cadence of Y/N’s voice, and his is just as agitated when he responds. “I’m just saying, if anything ever happened—”

“And I’m just saying, it won’t.” The tension between them doubles as Y/N shoots Harry an icy glare. “Do you just look for the worst in people?  Is that all you do?”

“You think I look for the worst in people?  Really?” Harry barks out a harsh laugh, pressing one hand flat against the table as the other fixes his bandana. “Christ, if that’s what you think of me—”

“Why would I think anything else?” Y/N asks incredulously, tilting her head to the side as she regards him. “All you’ve shown me is—”

“Alright, I have the turkey club on whole wheat, and the burger here.” Gracie appears suddenly to Y/N’s right, her tray loaded with food. “Here you guys are…” She sets the plates down in front of Harry and Y/N, her gaze darting between them nervously as she reads the tension in the booth. “Is…there anything else I can get you two?”

“No.” Harry’s voice is hard. “We don’t need anything else.”

…

By the time Harry pulls the car into a motel just off the highway in Lexington, Nebraska, all Y/N wants is a moment alone.  The strained atmosphere during that day’s drive had been unbearable, and between the anxiety from her confrontation with Harry and the sound of thunder beginning in the distance, Y/N just needs some space to herself to relax and calm down.

Of course, just because that’s what she needs, doesn’t mean that she’s going to get it.  When Harry returns back to the car with a single key in his hand and a sour look on his face, Y/N knows for sure that the universe is against her.

This room, at least, she’s pleased to find, has two actual beds, which are pushed up against the wall perpendicular to the door with a small night table between them.  However, that’s where her pleasure stops, as the click of Harry turning the lock behind her just reminds her that she’s trapped in here, with no chance to get away from Harry, the oncoming storm, or any one of her problems that have developed over the last four days.  The reality of the situation hits her all at once, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control to toss her bag on the bed and walk brusquely to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her before she allows herself to show a sign of her emotions.

The rest of the evening passes in silence.  She showers before changing into her sports bra and boxers, but the amount of exposed skin sends a vulnerable shiver down her spine.  Y/N opts for pulling a sweatshirt over her body, and then sets herself the task of braiding her hair to distract herself.  After that’s done, she busies herself with her skincare routine, taking up as much time as she can in the bathroom before she absolutely has to leave its private interior.

Harry, however, seems to want to see as little of Y/N as she wants to see of him, and pushes past her to enter the bathroom the moment that she steps out of it.  His routine, it seems, is designed to take up just as much time as hers was, because by the time Harry exits the bathroom, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him, Y/N is already tucked under the covers of her bed, although she’s far from asleep.

In the time it took for her to shower and get ready for bed, the storm had picked up, and the only thing audible in the room was the sound of rain pelting against the roof and window, the wind howling through the trees, and Y/N’s shallow, uneven breaths. She wraps the sheets tightly around herself, pulling them taut to her chin with clenched fists that tighten every time a clap of thunder echoes through the room.  Although she’s turned to face the wall, away from Harry, she can hear his footsteps pause as he gets a glimpse of her shivering form beneath the blankets, and she does her best to will herself to appear asleep.  Breathing in as deeply as her tight chest will allow her, Y/N attempts to even her breathing, forcing her shoulders rise and fall in a way that appears natural and normal.  But all it takes is one clap of thunder for the controlled motion to go out the window.

“Y/N…” Harry’s voice is low, but despite its raspy cadence, it lacks the rough edge that it had earlier. The bed behind her squeaks, signalling that Harry’s taken a seat on the edge of it. “Are you—?”

“I-I’m fine.” Y/N says quickly, pulling the sheets tighter to her chin as another shiver rolls through her body. “Go to sleep.”

There’s another creak of Harry’s bed, and Y/N imagines him climbing under the starched linen covers, his damp curls flopping into his eyes as he lays back on the lumpy motel pillow. The image is almost enough to distract her until there’s another clap of thunder.  The sound seems to shake the motel room, and Y/N can’t stop the small whimper that leaves her lips as her body jumps in response.

“When I was a little kid, my mum took my sister and I to the fair every year.”

Harry’s deep voice cuts over the rain, and Y/N shifts in her bed, turning over to face him.  She keeps the covers pulled up to her chin, but readjusts herself so that she can keep her head on her pillow while looking Harry in the eye. “What?” She asks, confusion audible in her quiet tone.

Harry shifts himself as she does, continuing to move down until he’s completely horizontal, with one hand tucked under his pillow as he speaks. “My mum took my sister and I to the fair.  It came to Holmes Chapel every spring, and there were always rides, and games to play, and so many things to see.  It drew crowds from nearby villages every year, really big crowds, and my mum always held my hand tightly so I wouldn’t get lost.”

“I don’t understand, what—” Another clap of thunder shakes the room, making Y/N flinch halfway through her sentence.

“You’re okay.” Harry says immediately, his calm jade eyes focused on her as the reassurance slips from his mouth.  He waits a moment, gauging Y/N’s body language and waiting for his examination to be positive before resuming his story. “So…my mum always told me not to wander off, but when I was six, I did.  I saw some older kids playing games that I wanted to play, and Gemma was busy playing some sort of game with a ball—I can’t really remember what—and when my mum turned her back, I ran off.”

Y/N’s about to open her mouth to ask why he’s telling her the story when the answer clicks into place in her head.  She thinks back to the conversation in the car the day before, how she told Harry that it helps when someone talks to her to distract her from the thunder.  That’s what he’s doing, she realizes, as she forces herself to focus on his quiet and level voice.  He’s trying to keep her calm, even after everything she said and did today.

“I don’t look like it now,” A small smile flits across Harry’s blushed lips. “But I was pretty scrawny back then.  And all the people around me were so tall, my eyes were barely level with their hips. Everyone was rushing around, going in all directions, and I kept calling for my mum, but she couldn’t hear me.  No one stopped to help me.  I felt like I was…trapped.  Like it was a huge forest of legs, running all around me, circling me, and I couldn’t get out.  I was probably only gone for five minutes, but to a six year old, it felt like an eternity.  And just something about it…I don’t know.  It changed me.  I still don’t like crowds because of that day.”

Y/N’s shoulders unclench the slightest bit as another gust of wind blows against the window. “That must have been scary.”

Harry’s own shoulders lift in a slight shrug as he shifts the sheet to cover him more. “It was. But I can’t change it.  I just have to deal with the repercussions of it. That’s all a fear is, really.  A side effect.  We just have to deal with them as best we can.”

More thunder booms loudly outside, but Y/N manages to keep her flinch to a minimum, despite her hands curling into fists again under the covers. “Harry…” She whispers his name into the darkness between them, his outline barely visible save for his green eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry about today.”

Harry shakes his head, his damp hair rubbing against his pillow. “You don’t have to apologize.” He whispers back, his tone as gentle as she’s ever heard it. “I was an arse.  I shouldn’t have pushed the topic.”

“I shouldn’t have been so uptight about it.” Rubbing her eyes with one fist, Y/N lets out a low sigh. “I felt so shitty all day because of our fight.  I’ve never…none of our fights have ever made me feel like that.”

“Maybe it’s because…” Harry’s tentative voice trails off, his eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment before staring back at Y/N nervously. “I don’t know.  I thought we were getting along better.  For a moment, at least.”

“We were.” Y/N’s teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she feels a sudden shyness overcome her at the admission. “I’m sorry I said that we…weren’t friends.  I think…I don’t know.  I’ve been stubborn for so long, but I can see now that you’re different than I thought you were.”

“Yeah.  Me too.  I was wrong, too.” Harry runs a hand through his damp curls, a soft laugh leaving his mouth. “How did we even end up like this?  I barely remember what made us hate each other so much in the beginning.”

“Seriously?” Y/N raises an eyebrow, barely peaking out from beneath the sheets as another clap of thunder sounds. “You don’t remember?”

Harry mimics her expression. “Do you?”

“Yes!  It was the very first night we met.  We had that double date with Laure and Jo.” Shifting beneath her covers, Y/N moves herself into a better position on her side, so she can be more comfortable while still maintaining eye contact with Harry. “And you were rude, and made inappropriate jokes, and you left in the middle of the date to go chat up a sorority girl!”

“Wait a minute, no!” Harry protests the memory, half sitting up in his bed as he speaks. “That’s not what happened!”

“Yes, it is!” A small laugh falls off Y/N’s lips at his indignant reaction. “I remember it perfectly!”

“No, you remember it wrong!” Although a flush creeps up Harry’s neck, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips, a tiny hint of a dimple just barely appearing in his visible cheek. “I was making jokes to try and break the ice, which didn’t work on the Ice Queen, it seems—” Harry motions to Y/N teasingly. “And you’re the one who started talking to some bloke before I started talking to that girl!”

Another clap of thunder echoes through the room, but Y/N hardly notices as she thinks back to the night they met, and who Harry could possibly be referring to. “A bloke—?  He was a classmate of mine!  I had to talk to him!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.” Harry grumbles, crossing his muscled arms over his sheets. “I had been so excited when Laure said she had an American girl for me, and then—”

“You were excited?” Y/N asks, her voice laced with surprise. “Really?”

The flush on Harry’s neck works its way to the apples of his cheeks. “Well, yeah.” He mumbles the words as his eyes drop from Y/N’s, slipping both hands beneath his head. “She said that you were funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful—”

“And then you met me, and realized that it was all a lie?” Y/N finishes for him, rolling her eyes in the darkness.

“No.” Harry gives a small shake of his head as his body shifts, the motel bed creaking under his weight. “No, she wasn’t wrong.  You were all of those things.  But I wasn’t, and it seemed like…I don’t know.  Like you didn’t think I was good enough for you.  I couldn’t keep your attention.”

The teasing smile slips from Y/N’s face as she registers Harry’s words. “You thought that I thought you weren’t…good enough?”

The nervousness is clear in Harry’s voice now, even over the pounding of rain against the window. “That’s what it seemed like, yeah.”

“I never—I didn’t think that.” Y/N says slowly, managing to relax her body beneath the sheets as she keeps her focus on the memory of meeting Harry. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there, but that’s because Jo set the date up without telling me.  I thought you were handsome, and I liked your accent, but then you started to act weird, and you started flirting with that girl, so I thought you were an ass.”

“You still think I’m an arse, princess, be honest.” The teasing tone replaces the nerves, and for once, Harry’s joke has the intended affect on Y/N.  When she rolls her eyes again, it’s more playful, and the same tone is in her voice when she responds.

“I told you, don’t call me princess.” She replies, running her teeth over her lip gently. “So…I guess we both kind of fucked up that day.”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, a sheepish smile playing over his red lips. “I guess so.”

“Can we just restart?” Y/N’s voice is small when she asks the question, barely audible over the sounds of the storm raging outside. “Like, all the way from the beginning. No more grudges, no more yelling. Even if it’s just for this trip, for Jo and Laure—”

“It doesn’t have to be just for this trip.” Harry cuts in, his eyes catching Y/N’s again. “We’re going to have to be around each other for a long time.  It’ll be a lot easer if we get along.”

Y/N nods in agreement, tugging down her covers to extend one arm towards Harry.  She makes a fist, holding out just her pinkie finger to him with half a grin on her face. “Truce?”

The space between their beds is small, and Harry’s long arm easily makes it across the no man’s land to meet Y/N’s pinkie with his own.  He loops it together with a smile that matches hers, tired and content and just at the edge of a humble new beginning.  Harry’s response is almost inaudible as thunder booms loudly outside the room, but Y/N can still pick out the cadence of his accent under the noise.

“Truce.”

(pt II)

#feedback is appreciated!! #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles preference #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #enemies to lovers #road trip au #fine line #fine line album #dreamwithharry #42 hours #writing

[boldlyvoid]

Intro and masterlist

✨about me ✨

this is a mature blog, I trust all minors to be responsible and avoid everything marked NSFW!

NSFW sideblog: @pervstash-spencer

Hi! my name is emily, I'm 23 she/they

Capricorn, bisexual, non-binary, autistic, and I have fibromyalgia ✌🏻 overall just a fun time y'know.

ao3

i love: supernatural, star trek, marvel movies, criminal minds, this is us and grey's anatomy !!

Accepting requests for Spencer Reid x Reader fics currently

all my tags are listed below if you want to see other posts about said fics, also here is my Spotify for the fics <3

Dad!spencer Masterlist

First times Masterlist**

all links to my fics below the cut!

Updated: July 28th, 2021

** for smut

~~ for angst

Spencer Reid x Reader fics

Hypothetically**~ Ao3 | Tumblr -- 27 chapters, complete. 89k

reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

touch me**~ Ao3 | Tumblr 5.8k

Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.

amethyst you so much P1 Ao3 | Tumblr 6.4k

Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

of quartz i will P2** Ao3 | Tumblr 6K

after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Amoreena**~ Ao3 | Tumblr Completed 83k

Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Seven* Tumblr WIP

Summary: Spencer’s been married to Y/N for 7 years now, they have 7 children together and each one is going through something different. Spencer’s always wanted to be the best dad, now he gets to figure out how to be.

the guy at the rock show Ao3 | Tumblr 5.6K

Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

journey to Camelot** Ao3 | Tumblr 3.8K

When Penelope introduces Spencer to online games, he expects to be spending his nights alone. Yet, somehow every time he comes back from a bad case, he logs on to chat with the ever so lovely user FairlyGwen and getting a lot more than just a helpful tip from her.

Exploration** Ao3 | Tumblr 4.7K

request: season1/2 spencer walking in on reader while she's watching porn in their shared hotel room

Expedition** Tumblr 1.2K

Summary: there's a first time for everything... including joining the mile high club with your boyfriend on the work jet.

10 Days Ao3 | Tumblr 1.4K

it's spencer's first father's day and he's extremely emotional about the little love of his life that he's only just met. he spends the day with his baby, Edwin, and his wife, crying and happy about how wonderful new little lives are.

ain't it fun?** Ao3 | Tumblr Masterlist 11K

reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

I'm not kidding!** Tumblr 6K

Spencer keeps getting little notes from a secret admirer, they're nice and sweet at first as they tease him with their crush until she's sending him notes about all the dirty things she wants to do to him

Perfect Timing** Tumblr 1K

spencer and reader have been spending the last month together in the same hotel room during a pretty brutal case. tension has been rising and she's completely in love with him.

what happens when they both think the other won't be back for a while and they want to shower?

Redamancy** Tumblr 5.4K

the co-op librarian at the FBI Academy has been secretly crushing on the smartest agent in the Bureau, TA, Doctor Spencer Reid, and he's been crushing on her too.

Being Neighbourly** Tumblr 1.9K

Request: reader is Spencers neighbour and she can hear him masturbating every night that he's home how do you have her deal with that?

Professional Hair Dresser (Ph.D)** Tumblr 6.4K

summary: after Spencer's knee injury, he starts visiting a salon every week to get his hair washed

36 Questions to Fall in Love Tumblr 8K

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

New Romantics** Tumblr 23k

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Million Dollar Man** | Tumblr WIP 5k so far

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea** | Y/N version | 1-4, 5-9, Epilogue 25.6k

Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

Spencer x Ethan

Ruin it.** Tumblr 5.4K

Summary: Spencer never had sleepovers as a kid, so now that he's an adult he's always sleeping over at Ethan's house, ad he'll take any excuse to crawl into bed beside him.

Warnings: mutual pining, love concessions, blowjobs, handjobs, anal sex (both top and bottom spencer in this), childhood friends to lovers

400 Celebration fics

Reid Me Tumblr 2.5K

Spencer has noticed a beautiful woman at a spirituality booth at the farmers market every Saturday for almost a whole year now. he finally asks her to give him a reading.

mystery of love Tumblr 700

Spencer surprises his wife with a trip to Italy.

Spy Kids Tumblr 900

Spencer and Y/N's kids think that they are secretly spies and request a mission story before bed.

a father's greatest weakness Tumblr 1K

Princess Y/N is betrothed to the Viking king in an effort by her father to keep the peace between their countries, he doesn't expect her to join in the fight to free Scottland.

Luke x Reader

Best Dad Ever 2.8K

Request: angst with a happy ending, reader and luke have been divorced for a few years but have a child, she tries and tries to fall out of love with him but he's around so often that she can't

Spencer x OC

Sugar Honey Ice Tea** Ao3 | WIP 9/10 chapters complete 25.6K

Fix-it-fic: Dr. Beth Pattinson and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It Ao3 | Tumblr WIP 6K+

Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer x OC Peggy Carr

Franklin x Reader

Voulez-Vouz** | 3.2k

Summary: in a small town, everyone knows each other… or at least they think they do.

Warnings: porn with plot, smut, Dom reader, Sub!Perv!franklin, making out, teasing, face sitting, oral (female and male), hand jobs, overstimulation, prostate message, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, let me know if I forgot anything.

Chip x Reader

forever is the sweetest con** | 6.2K

Summary: Reader’s dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get his daughter’s number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader’s mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

Raymond x Reader

Alone Together ** | 2.4K

Summary: Raymond moves into a haunted house and ends up sleeping with the ghost who lives there... only he doesn't know that when you fuck a ghost you also become one.

Warnings: details of suicide and murder, blowjobs, pegging, bottom!raymond, top!reader, becoming a ghost, major character death.

Star Trek Masterlist

Star Wars fix it fic

Supernatural masterlist

thanks for all the love, as always,

-Emily <3

#masterlist #my fics #star trek #star wars #spn #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #mine #amoreena #hypothetically #amethyst you so much #the guy at the rock show #journey to camelot #spencer core #mgg core #420mgg #amoreena asks #garvez #spencer reid smut #spencercore #blurb #me #my face

[jamiethetrans]

Taken (Modern AU) - Ch 1

Alcina Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual body parts, mentions of death of a character

AN: A new story, the idea just sorta got there and I always wanted write our beautiful lady into our modern day world and see how she and the girls would be as normal human beings. There will be an OC character in this story that isn’t the reader.

One last warning. In this story Alcina has given birth to the girls. And the father is the OC.

Tell me if you want me to do a taglist! Enjoy!

•

“I wouldn’t mind at all. The world could definitely use a female President to kick the white mens’ asses in that political kindergarten they’re running”, you answered into the phone as you sat on the bench, looking over at the playground.

You noticed your five year old son sitting on top of the slide and slide down. You smiled softly before hearing the voice on the other end answer you.

“Oh I am not opposed to it being Clinton, but could you imagine Michelle Obama coming out and saying she’s running”

You looked down at your nails for a quick moment before looking back up at the playground. Your heart stopped the moment you did. Your son was no were to be seen. “Carrie I gotta go”, you said into the phone and hung up before running over to the playground.

“Eli??”

Your son was nowhere to be found and you felt yourself quickly panic.

“Elijah!”

You desperately looked around the playground for any sign of him but he was gone. You walked over to a another woman and her child by the swings. “Excuse me. Have you a seen a little black boy with black hair and a blue jacket?”

The woman shook her head, her eyes obviously filling with worry. Suddenly you heard it. Your son’s laughter. You turned around and your eyes landed on three girls standing by your son, playing with him by a bench.

You ran over to the bench, and immediately took him into your arms. “Oh my god Eli”, you whispered hugging him tight.

“Mommy, they show me stones!”, he said holding up a stone in his hand and you turned to the three girls, immediately noticing how much they looked alike. Triplets no doubt. Late teens, maybe eighteen. One blonde, one brunette and one redhead.

“Well how nice”, you said with a small voice, still shaken up.

“Girls what did I tell you about walking ahead? One day I won’t be able to keep up”, a voice suddenly said and you felt your heart quicken. You turned and saw a tall woman walking towards you and you felt yourself catching your breath. She was god ass tall. 6 feet at least. You noticed how the three girls immediately squirmed under the woman’s gaze, all three looking at her.

“Yes mother”

“Yes mama”

“Yeah mom”

They all answered at the same time and you turned back to the woman who was now standing behind the girls. “I’m sorry if my daughters bothered you and your son”, she apologized and you felt yourself in trance as you met her eyes with your own for the first time.

Brown eyes with a hint of gold that made you forget how to breathe. The redness on your cheeks could no doubt be seen. Maybe that’s why the redhead was smirking at you.

“It’s uhm… quite alright. I was just… scared. So many kids gets taken from playgrounds”, you said and the woman gave you a sympathetic smile.

“The fear of losing our children is stronger than anything. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if I lost my daughters”, she said caressing the red haired girl with her left hand’s fingers on the girl’s cheek.

Despite their late teen years, the girl leaned into her mother’s touch, her smirk immediately disappearing, and you felt a sense of warmth at the sight.

“I’m sure the fear is much stronger when you have three to look after rather than one”

The woman squeezed the blonde girl on her shoulder with her right hand making the girl step back towards her mother, leaning into the touch as well.

“Some people might agree with you on that”

You honestly didn’t know what to do or say. The woman was absolutely astonishingly beautiful. She was inhumanly tall and you could just see the edge of lines on her face.

“Mommy I want down!”, Elijah suddenly said and you turned to him and put him down. But you immediately took his hand into your own and held him close to you.

“Thank you. And thank you for the stones”, you said and looked down at the stone your son held in his hands, obviously fascinated about it.

“You’re welcome dear. Have a good day”

You felt your heart beat faster at the nick name and found yourself blush furiously. “You too”

You walked away and the woman stood still watching you. The redhead smirked and turned to her sisters who all noticed the smirk. The brunette furrowed her eyebrows at the smirk while the blonde rolled her eyes.

“So… she was cute”, the redhead said and she could immediately feel her mother’s eyes on her.

“Well I’m sure next time you see her, you’ll be able to get a name out of her”, she said and the redhead rolled her eyes.

“I meant for you mom”

The woman rolled her eyes, as well and the redhead definitely saw the resemblance between her blonde sister and her mother.

“Daniela how many times have I told you not to interfere with my romantic life”

“Only once or twice”, she said with a smug on her face and the woman smirked as they walked their way home.

•

You walked into your apartment and Elijah immediately ran over to his toys, taking out his stuffed animals. “Eli sweetheart you need to take your shoes off”, you said and the boy turned to you. He walked over to you and sat down on his bottom, gently placing his stuffed wolf next to him but opening his shoes.

“Good sweetheart”

Once he was done he stood once again  and ran over to his play corner in the living room. You made yourself some coffee, adding lots of sugar not to mention lots of vanilla.

Vanilla was your absolute favorite. The smell was to die for and the taste was even better.  It was almost better than pussy. But not quite better than pussy.

But it sure had been long since you tasted one. God sometimes you regret not going out more. But you just couldn’t. It was too hard still. Even after five years, it was still hard.

Your wife had been your everything. Dying at childbirth was not how you had seen the outcome. The birth of your son had been long and painful for your wife and the damage was just too severe for her to survive.

You knew you wanted children and you and your wife had discussed the different options, but she insisted on carrying, since she always wanted the experience. You happily agreed and you let her decide the donor since she was carrying.

She had immediately chosen a donor from the south and the two of you had never been more excited.

“Mommy! Look!”

The sound of your son’s voice brought you back from your thoughts and you smiled softly at him as he held up his toy soldiers.

His black-brown eyes shining right through you, his eyes a complete match to your wife’s.

You walked over to him and sat down on the mattress behind him, bringing your arms around him. You held him close as he played, a tear falling down your cheek.

#resident evil #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #Lady Dimitrescu #reader #reader insert #Taken #modern au #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #oc character