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justsomewritingblog · 2 years

Text

Face To Face

Request: Nope

Requested by: Nobody

Pairing: Dream x reader (sorta)

Warnings: Anxiety, if that counts

Word count: 5K+ (whoops)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was really doing it.

You couldn’t believe it.

“I can’t believe it,” you said, holding your phone up to your ear as you mindlessly ran your finger over the rim of your tea mug.

“I can’t either. I wasn’t nervous until a couple of days ago,” the voice on the other end told you.

You took a sip of your hot drink, humming, before resting your cup on your thigh again. “Are you sure that this is something you want to do? I mean,” you leaned your head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling, “you know that not everyone is going to be satisfied with, as weird as it sounds, your face.”

“Yeah.”

You could practically see the shrug.

“But people aren’t going to be happy if I don’t do it, and…” he trailed off, trying to gather his words. He let out a tiny huff. “I can’t make everyone happy. And besides, this gives me more opportunities to explore more things.”

“But Dream,” you leaned forward, resting your elbow on your extended legs, your feet resting on your coffee table. “Aren’t you worried about all the hate? You’ve received death threats just for your personality and game play. People’s expectations of you are astronomically large.”

“Oh, the hate doesn’t bother me,” he replied easily. “I think it’s funny more than anything.”

You paused, eyes going back and forth across your knees as you tried to think of an appropriate response. “It could get dangerous- that’s all I’m saying.” You sighed through your nose, closing your eyes. “I just don’t want you getting hurt in any way.”

“I know, and I appreciate that.”

You allowed a small smile to cross your face.

“So what about you? Do you ever think you’ll face reveal?”

You let out an “uh” noise, sitting back up on your couch and reclining again, tightening your grip on your warm mug. You looked down at it. “I…. don’t know,” you said shortly.

Dream chuckled. “Don’t want your followers to see your face?”

“I don’t think I could live up to the expectations.”

Dream hummed.

A comfortable silence fell over the phone.

“Do…….you want to see my face?”

You blinked in response, not quite believing what you just heard. “What?”

“Did you want to see my face? I already showed George and Karl. I was going to show Bad, but he’s busy with something. You moved up the list.”

“Clay…”

“You can cover your camera if you want. I don’t have to see you if you don’t want me to.”

You paused. “Honestly, I’m afraid to see you.” You set your mug on the coffee table, moving your feet to the couch and curling up, pulling a blanket over your legs as you listened to him talk.

“Afraid? We’ve been friends for years, why would you be afraid?”

“That’s exactly why,” you answered, finishing your adjustments on the blanket. “As much as I tried to avoid it, I’ve created expectations of what I imagine you to look like.” You tugged lightly at your hair with your free hand. “Besides, facetime has crappy internet, anyways.”

You tried not to let the silence on the other end of the phone worry you. Did you make a mistake? You were one of your best friend’s, and secret crush, first people he wanted to show his face to. Did you hurt his feelings?

You waved your hand in the air even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m sorry, I should be honored, but-”

“No, you’re fine,” Dream assured. “Would you like to meet me in person, then? Come down to Florida and see me?”

You paused. “You mean like…face reveal to each other?”

“If you want. Your choice, obviously.” His voice grew a little lower in pitch, but louder, sounding slightly more strained. “I mean, I’m not gonna ask you to face reveal or anything,” he said quickly, “but if it would be easier for you… I would like you to see me.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. He wants me to see him. He loves me- you quickly shook your head. That’s not what that means, dummy, you chided yourself. “I’ll…….give it some thought. I have to go stream right now, though.” You looked over at your clock. “I haven’t done a blessed thing all day,” you admitted with a forced laugh.

“Yeah, I haven’t really either. Unless you count showing my face to people, but most people do that every day, so…”

“Well… you’re not most people,” you said, grinning.

Dream laughed on the other end. “That is true. I’ll talk to you later, Y/n. I gotta go show my face to more people.”

“Alright. Have fun,” you said, bringing up your other hand to your phone as you prepared to hang up.

“I’ll try.”

“Bye.”

You pulled your phone from your ear and pressed the ‘end call’ button. You tossed your head back, groaning, before bringing it forward to drag your hands along your face. Standing, you picked up the blanket that fell to the floor and tossed it back on the couch before walking over to your streaming room. You entered the familiar setup, looking at your f/c neon lights lining the dark walls. You didn’t used to have the lights, but you really loved the addition. It helped you focus.

You plopped down in your gaming seat, your gaze immediately finding your mask next to your keyboard, staring up at you with a lifeless expression. You pressed the power button on your laptop and picked up the mask while you waited for your computer to turn on. Your gaze raked over the black color and white half circles for happy eyes. You drug your fingers along the white sideways ‘D’ for a gin. The mask wasn’t circular like Dream’s, it was shaped like a theater mask, giving it a more angular look.

The blue light emitting from off your screen drew your attention to it. You lifted your gaze, looking up at your computer through your eyelashes. Pulling up Minecraft and setting up your stream, you pulled on your mask, looping the cord around the back of your head. You pressed record.

“Hey, guys!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shut down your computer, pulling off your mask and setting it on the desk with a sigh. You ran a hand through your hair before standing, leaving the room and turning out the lights.

Pulling out your phone, you checked Youtube, seeing a few people already posting highlights from the stream you just finished. You walked into the kitchen, not even looking up from your phone, and saw a video titled “Karl reacts to Dream’s face reveal”. You swallowed a sudden lump in your throat. Setting the phone down on the counter, you moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a bowl of leftover chili and putting it in the microwave. Turning it on to reheat, you walked back over to your phone and stared down at the thumbnail.

Karl looked pleased.

Your finger hovered over it for a few moments before you finally tapped it.

The video opened with Karl showing his phone to the screen, allowing the viewers to see ‘Dream calling’ in the top. “I’m actually nervous,” Karl announced. The video cut to Karl looking down at his phone, clutching it with both hands. “Oh, shoot! What the heck?!” The video cut again to Karl smiling down at the phone. “You look like a baseball player, you scream like ‘baseball player’ to me.” He let out one of his small ‘Karl laughs’.

“I’m rocking like, a bit of a mullet,” you heard Dream’s voice say.

Karl laughed a little again. “I didn’t want to say anything,” he said, shaking his head, “but he’s running a mullet.” The video cut again. “Wait, I don’t know what I expected you to look like. You’re actually handsome- this is messed up.” He chuckled. “You’re not supposed to be attractive, Dream-”

You took in a sharp intake of air just as the timer went off. You turned your head, walking over to the microwave as you heard Dream say “look, I’m a normal guy, okay?”

You heard Karl laugh and start talking, but you were more focused on not dropping the hot bowl. Setting the dish on the counter and getting out a spoon, you heard Karl say something about tweeting before the video ended. You glanced over at your phone, staring at it for a moment before turning it off and eating in solitude.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your finger hovered over the ‘send’ button. Did you want your best friend and crush to see your face? Not really. Did you want to disappoint him by not letting him share something that he wants to with you? Definitely not.

You groaned, dropping your head. Your forehead hit the counter with a ‘thud’. Without lifting it, you pressed the ‘send’ button. You quickly turned your phone off, your anxiety rising. You shoved away your bowl of cereal, still hungry but not wanting to eat. Walking into the living room, you slightly adjusted the blanket that laid on the back of the couch. You dropped your hands to your hips, tapping the sides of your thighs as you let out a puff of breath from your mouth. You paced back and forth, your gaze darting back to your phone laying on the counter more often than you would’ve liked to admit.

Maybe sending that message was a bad idea.

You let out a small yell, tugging at your hair, before speed-walking back over to the counter. You picked your phone up, about to take it all back, when it buzzed.

You yelped, slapping it back on the counter, face down. Your eyes were wide, your left hand clenched at your chest. Your heartbeat picked up and you felt a little light headed.

You needed some water.

Rushing to the sink, you quickly poured yourself a cool glass of water and downed some before looking back at your device. Walking over hesitantly, you lifted it, opening the message.

It was him.

Dream.

You looked down at the text.

“great!” It said. “when do you want to fly over? here’s my address:”

You felt sick.

“I can catch the next flight, I guess?” you typed back, rocking from side to side. “I’ll have to look at flight times.” You paused, pursing your lips as you tapped the side of your phone. “How do we do this?”

You stared in anticipation at your phone for a few moments before letting out a breath.

Your phone dinged.

“sure! the sooner the better right? wdym?”

“Before I talk myself out of it,” you mumbled as you typed into your phone. “Okay. How do I get there? And do we have a plan for our reveals, or….?”

The reply was almost instant.

“Sapnap can pick you up if you’re cool with that. uhh, i don’t know. what’s most comfortable for you?”

You typed “not doing this at all” before erasing it and starting over. “That’s fine. We could both wear our masks and take them off at the same time?” You paced back and forth, looking down at your phone.

“sounds good! do you want it filmed or no?”

You paused, ceasing your pacing. Like…..to post? Or just to keep as a memory?

“To post online, or just to keep?” You asked.

“either. i was thinking about having Sapnap film it. we could keep it until you decided if you would ever do a face reveal or not, or we could post it and blur you out.”

You chewed your lip. You would never be able to see the reactions ever again if you didn’t film it. You sighed, mentally cursing your Youtube-focused brain. “We could film it, I guess.”

“awesome! i’ll let Sapnap know. keep me updated!”

You sent a ‘thumbs up’ emoji before sighing, moving to your streaming room to check your computer for flights.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Boarding flight.” You put your phone into your pocket once you saw the message go through, pulling up your hood and slipping on your sunglasses. The facemask you wore was one with Ranboo’s design. Climbing up the stairs, you looked down at your ticket for the 148,294 time, checking your seat number. You looked up, gaze scanning the cabin for your number.

Window seat.

Thank God.

You walked over, sliding in after putting your suitcases above your chair.

The two chairs next to you were empty.

You weren’t sure if that meant they weren’t going to be used, or if the people using them weren’t there yet.

You hoped the former.

A few minutes later, a woman with blonde hair and a dirty-blonde daughter, you assumed, sat in your row, the woman on the outside and the child between you.

You bit back a groan and looked out the window, trying to avoid interaction.

This was going to be a long flight.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You turned to the woman in your row and raised an eyebrow. You saw confusion and a little fear cross her features, but she kept her expression mostly neutral.

You couldn’t blame her. You definitely looked suspicious.

You caught a glimpse of a flight attendant behind the woman.

“Your ticket, please?” She asked.

“Oh,” you mumbled, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your ticket, handing it to the attendant. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” The attendant smiled. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said before walking away.

You looked ahead of you, about to look back out the window when the woman spoke again.

“Is this your first flight?” She asked cheerfully, holding a book open for her daughter to look at.

You looked at her out of the corner of your eye. “Yeah.”

The woman nodded. “I thought so. You look tense.”

You stiffened slightly, turning your head a little to see her better as you raised an eyebrow. Admittedly, it was a little hard with the sunglasses.

You had no idea how Ranboo lived like this for so long.

“Don’t worry, it’s completely safe.” She smiled over at you, turning the page of the children’s book.

You glanced down at it subtly, briefly noting a person standing next to a giant pumpkin, before looking back at the woman. “Have you flown before?” You asked, voice slightly strained.

“Many times. My husband works out of state, so me and Emma fly out to visit him when he’s gone longer than usual.”

You held back a small gasp. “I’m sorry.”

“It pays well,” she began before trailing off slightly. “It’s just hard to be without him for so long sometimes.”

Your gaze fell to your lap. “I bet,” you agreed quietly.

It was silent for a moment.

The loudspeaker sounded. “Attention, passengers. We will be playing a safety video before we take off. Please pay attention to the instructions given in case of an emergency.”

You let out a sharp breath, gripping the armrest on your right as the video began to play.

“Everything will be okay,” your bench-mate assured. “I’ve been on this flight more times than I can count. There’s never been any problems.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Arriving in Orlando, Florida directly,” the speaker announced.

You weren’t sure to be relieved that you’d be on solid ground soon, or terrified because you’d be meeting Dream. You were torn between letting out a breath of relief and gasping, so you just stopped breathing.

You only noticed once you were starting to become uncomfortable.

You let out a harsh breath before sucking one back in.

The woman laughed. “You’ll be okay.”

You looked over at her and nodded. Turning to your right to look out the window, you snapped a photo of the partially-visible runway below the clouds and sent it to Dream. You leaned forward in your seat as the plane’s wheels touched the ground.

The plane came to a stop and it was announced that people could leave the plane.

You stood in your seat, pulling down your luggage, being careful to not hit the sleeping girl in the head. You turned to the woman as she picked Emma up quietly, taking down their bags with one hand. “Thanks for your company.” You smiled. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten through the flight as well if you weren’t here.”

She smiled. “My pleasure, miss.”

You leaned over. “Let me help with your bags,” you said, picking two up and holding both of yours in your other hand.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it.”

“No, I insist. It’s the least I could do.”

“Well, alright.” She chuckled, picking up the other bag, and led you out of the plane. She walked inside the nearby building and stood over to the side, out of the way of everyone else coming in and moving around. “Thank you. My husband should pick us up in a little bit.”

“Alright. Have a nice stay,” you replied, putting her bags down next to her and walking away with a wave. You headed to the bathroom and checked your phone on the way.

1 new message.

“awesome! Sapnap left a while ago. he should be there soon!”

You slipped into the bathroom, using it and washing, before emerging. Finding a secluded spot, you swapped your sunglasses and face mask for your theater mask, waiting for Sapnap.

Somewhere between five and ten minutes later you saw a short man in a hoodie wandering around, a baseball cap atop his head.

You could see long brown hair sticking out from underneath it.

He did a full spin, allowing you to briefly see his poster that read “Y/n pickup” in black marker.

Did you call out to him? Did you wait for him to see you?

You picked up your bags, steeling yourself before you marched towards him. “Sapnap?” You asked quietly.

He turned around, looking over at you. “Yeah. Y/n, I assume?”

You could see him observing your mask before he looked at where the eyes were and smiled.

“Yeah,” you said.

He gestured to the side, bowing. “My car is this way, my lady.”

You normally would’ve laughed, but you couldn’t find it in you.

You were too stressed.

Sapnap kindly took your bags, putting them in the trunk before walking around to the driver’s side and climbing in. “You beat George here,” he said, starting the car.

“Lucky me,” you replied as the car pulled out and onto the road.

Sapnap glanced over at you briefly. “You aren’t excited?”

You paused, staring ahead of you. “I’m terrified,” you admitted.

He looked over at you, his expression shifting into one of sympathy and sadness. “You’ll be okay.”

You let out a tiny humorless chuckle. “I hope so.”

The car went silent for a few moments.

“How was the flight?”

“Eh.” You shrugged a shoulder. “It was okay. I probably looked like I was going to sell drugs, or something.”

Sapnap laughed and looked over at you. “Were you wearing your mask on the plane?”

“Not this one,” you said as the car turned a corner. “I had sunglasses and Ranboo’s facemask.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have Ranboo’s mask?”

“No- sorry. I have one that I got from him. I didn’t like… take his only mask.”

“Oh, okay.” He chuckled. “That makes more sense.”

You smiled slightly. “How are you doing, Sapnap?”

He looked over at you, eyes wide as he let out a tiny chuckle. “What?”

“How have you been? You doin well?”

“Uh, yeah.” He smiled. “I’ve been great. Thanks.”

You nodded.

“Are you ready to meet Dream?”

Your heart skipped and your body tensed. “No.”

Sapnap hummed. “That’s a problem, cause we’re here.”

“What!?” You gripped the seatbelt with both hands. “I haven’t mentally prepared-!”

“It’s alright, I have to go get him, anyway,” Sapnap said calmly, turning off the car and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Ah, don’t leave me!” You exclaimed, your hands shooting out and gripping his forearm.

Sapnap looked over at you in surprise. He blinked. “It’s okay. Just breathe. I’ll just go in and tell him you’re here. You can text him when you’re ready, okay?”

You paused before nodding, slowly releasing your hold on him.

Sapnap nodded back, smiling slightly and closed the door before walking away, disappearing from view.

You were having a coronary.

You slipped your hoodie off of you, being careful to avoid snagging the mask.

You were not used to Florida heat.

The anxiety probably didn’t help.

You reached your hand up to your mask, pulling down the visor and opening the mirror. Your hand gripped your mask, but you hesitated.

Did you want to know what you looked like? Would you be satisfied, or want to fix your hair or something?

Your heart raced.

You put your hand on the visor and lifted it, closing the mirror in the process of putting it back.

Well, you couldn’t wait forever. You climbed out of the car, closing the door and leaning against it as you texted Dream.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You tapped your foot anxiously as you waited.

Voices steadily grew louder.

You heard a laugh.

Turning, you saw Sapnap leading Dream by the arm, the tall, masked man stumbling.

“Everything okay?” You questioned.

“He can’t see out of the mask,” Sapnap said, chuckling, holding up a camera with his free hand.

You glanced at it, your heart rate increasing. “That doesn’t seem efficient.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Dream replied.

It was weird to hear him in person. His voice sounded so solid and crisp. It was clear in a way that you’d never experienced before.

Sapnap let go of Dream, causing the 6’3 man to stop, reaching his hands out blindly.

“How do we want to do this?” You asked, eyeing his hands waving about.

“Back to back?” Sapnap suggested as Dream began turning, trying to feel for you. “Hold up, Dream,” Sapnap said.

Dream stopped, his hands dropping to his sides. “Where is she?” He questioned, moving his head around.

“I’m here, Clay,” you replied as Sapnap handed you the camera, which you noticed was already recording, as he moved Dream in place.

His back was facing you.

Sapnap took the camera back and gestured at Dream, holding up the device.

You took a deep breath. “This is so weird,” you mumbled, moving in to place your back against Dream’s larger frame.

“On the count of three?” Dream asked.

You paused. This was real. You were doing this. “Okay.”

“Sapnap, do you want to count down?” Dream asked.

“Do you want me to take your masks off for you, too?” He teased, backing up to get the shot he wanted.

You forced yourself to chuckle a little.

Sapnap’s voice rang through your ears. “One.”

You reached up with your left hand, gripping your mask.

“Two.”

You reached back blindly with your right hand, finding Dream’s left, as your heart raced.

He quickly responded, grabbing it and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You could feel rings.

“Three.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, turning to fully face Dream, still holding hands. You pulled your mask off, intentionally leaving it out to the side, blocking the camera’s view.

If you were going to end up posting this, you wanted Dream to be the first to see your face for certain.

You didn’t want any viewers to have the option to have seen your face as soon as you took off the mask, giving them the same treatment that you would have for your best friend.

You opened your eyes, staring up into green with your e/c ones. His eyes were beautiful.

The rest of him took you completely by surprise, though.

You were conscious enough to lower the mask so the audience, if any, could see your reactions.

His hair was brown and curly, indeed a mullet. His face was more rounded than you’d pictured, his features softer than you had imagined them to be. Your gaze raked over his light facial hair and lips before drifting down to the chain necklace he wore. You looked back up at his face.

His mouth was slightly parted.

You felt your face heat up, not used to being stared at. You lifted your mask again, holding it a little distance from your face, turning your head away.

Dream’s hand tightened around yours.

You brought the mask back down, looking over at him, face still red.

Dream grinned slightly before it fell. “I’m really nervous- what do you think?”

You blinked. “Of you?”

He glanced to the side briefly. “Yeah.”

You raised your left hand, still holding your mask, and covered your mouth with your wrist. “I feel bad- I didn’t have a big reaction.”

Dream let out a nervous laugh. “I know, you stressed me out.”

“Sorry.” You paused. “You’re not at all what I expected,” you admitted, gaze raking over his face.

“That seems to be the consensus.” He chuckled.

“You look like a normal person,” you said. Your eyes widened. “That sounded bad. You’re attractive, but you…” you trailed off, looking to the side as you tried to think of an appropriate way to say what you were thinking. “I dunno.”

He raised an eyebrow before tilting his head, eyes scanning you. “I don’t think I had an idea of what you looked like.”

“How?” You questioned, eyes widening slightly. “I literally tried to avoid having an idea of what you looked like, and it still didn’t work.”

Dream shrugged. “I don’t know.” He paused, opening his mouth to add on, but closed it again, eyebrows furrowing as his gaze lowered slightly. “I don’t know,” he repeated, looking over at you again.

You both fell silent.

You finally dropped his hand, lunging forward and wrapping your arms around him in a hug, burying your face in his chest.

A second or two passed before he hugged you back, his large hands finding place on your sides.

You took in a shaky breath, trying not to cry.

You were finally here.

You did it.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop its quivering. You were certain Dream could feel you shaking.

“Oh, don’t cry,” you heard Dream say softly, hugging you tighter.

You sniffled, wiping your nose with your arm before you pulled away, keeping your head down so he couldn’t see you. “Sorry.”

He chuckled a little. “Don’t worry about it.”

You looked up, seeing that his eyes were red.

No tears had fallen, but he looked like he was close.

“Uh, when do I stop recording?”

You both turned, seeing Sapnap still holding the camera.

Oh yeah.

That little detail.

You turned your head away, looking towards the house.

“She still has to meet Patches,” Dream said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, turning you back towards Sapnap and the camera subconsciously.

Sapnap open-mouth smiled. “Patchy!”

You tried to ignore the camera and gasped. “Patches!” You clapped your hands together. Focus on the cat, you told yourself. “Where’s Patches?” You looked around Dream’s chest towards the house.

Dream chuckled. “This way,” he said, turning and walking away, keeping his arm around you. He opened the door and released you to step inside. “Patches!” He called, looking around. “She’s around here somewhere.”

You looked over your shoulder as Sapnap closed the door behind the three of you, still looking into the camera.

“Patches!” Dream called again from the other room.

You heard him mumble something as you walked into the living room, seeing him bent over as he picked up his cat.

He turned around, holding the pet in his arms. “Here she is.” He ran his hand over her back.

You grinned, walking forward. “Hey, Patches,” you said softly, petting her ear. “Hey, kitty,” you whispered, grin growing as the cat closed her eyes, leaning into your touch. You covered your mouth with your free hand, trying to contain your noises and emotions. You were vaguely aware of Sapnap moving to your right, filming you and Dream. “She’s so cute,” you said, looking up at Dream.

He was smiling affectionately. “Yeah, she is.”

“She can be a pain, though,” Sapnap piped up, nodding as you looked over at him. “She likes to chew on Dream’s mic and stuff.”

Dream chuckled. “Yeah, she does.” He looked back down at her before lifting her and kissing the top of her head.

“So I’ve heard,” you said, smiling as you watched the action.

“How long are you going to stay here?” Dream asked as he lowered his arms, letting Patches jump out and walk away.

You watched her leave before looking back up at Dream. “Uh, I don’t know. A couple weeks?”

“Your bags!” Sapnap exclaimed. He quickly shoved the camera in Dream’s hands before running back out of the building, unaware of Dream filming the entire thing.

You chuckled as you watched Sapnap’s shoes disappear from view. “I should probably go help him.”

“Eh.” Dream shrugged. “He doesn’t need help. He’s a fit guy.”

You smirked up at him. “Clay,” you scolded lightly.

He aimed the camera down at you and grinned. “Yes?”

Your eyes widened as you looked at the big black object. Placing your hand on it, you pushed it back towards the door just as Sapnap came back through with your luggage.

He was slightly out of breath. “Sorry,” he apologized quietly.

You chuckled quietly. “That’s alright, Sapnap.” You walked over, reaching down to pick them up. “Thank you.” You put them over to the side and pulled out your phone. “I guess I should look into motel prices.”

“Wait, what?”

You looked over at Dream. “Motels? Ya know. A place where I can stay?”

Dream and Sapnap looked at each other.

“We just assumed you’d be staying here,” Sapnap said, looking back at you.

“Yeah. We have a room all ready,” Dream added. “You can sleep in George’s room until he gets here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And when he does get here? I’ll still be here by the time he arrives.”

Dream waved a hand dismissively. “He can sleep on the couch until you leave.”

Sapnap nodded enthusiastically at Dream’s comment as he turned back to face you. “There’s plenty of room.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” you said, setting your mask down on your luggage bags and looking down at it.

“Oh, it’s no problem!” Dream assured.

“We want you to stay!” Sapnap agreed.

You lifted your head slightly to look over at them. “Well, if you’re sure…”

“Absolutely,” Dream said.

“Completely.”

“Well, okay then.”

“Perfect!” Dream walked over, picking up one of your bags as Sapnap picked up the other.

“Guys, I can carry my own stuff-” you were cut off by Dream shoving your mask towards you.

“There. You can carry that.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

Dream and Sapnap led you to your room, talking all the way about all of the fun stuff the three of you were going to do. They both put your bags down once they walked through the bedroom door.

“The bathroom’s that way,” Dream said, pointing.

“And the kitchen’s that way,” Sapnap grinned, pointing the other way.

You chuckled. “Both very important.”

“So, get set up and then we can just hang out the rest of the day,” Dream said, looking around the room before his gaze landed on you.

“Let’s order pizza for supper,” Sapnap said.

“We have to get through lunch, first,” you reminded, smiling.

“Oh, right. I’ll go get the stuff out.” Sapnap turned, walking out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

You and Dream fell silent.

He finally looked over at you. “Well.” He grinned. “We did it.”

You smiled back. “We did it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Guys, this was 21 pages in Google Docs. I may have a problem. XD

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deathxwalkerxx · 2 years

Text

It beats only for you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff, x Avenger!Fem reader

Warning: none just pure fluff

Summary: Anonymous asked:

i lovee ur writing!!

can you do one for Nat where it takes place during age of ultron, the part where they all go to Clint’s house and like at one point Nat sees Reader playing with Clint’s kids and Nat’s just kind of like 😍😍😍😍

oops i forgot to write something in my request (clint’s house), make it so that Nat and reader aren’t like in a relationship yet. and Laura and Clint’s all like 😏😏😏 towards Nat. like nat’s helping laura in the kitchen and laura goes “so whats going on between you and reader” and nat’s like starting to become aware of her growing feelings for reader

hope im making sense

A/N: thank you for the compliment and i do hope i do this justice for you!! Sorry that it took so long for me to get too!! I enjoyed writing this!! and made myself cry!!

Natasha and yourself had been friends the moment you were asked to join the Avengers and you had accepted. She was drawn to you, and you were drawn to her also. The both of you trained together, watched shows together, shared books that you both had read. Wherever Natasha went you went also. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the rest of the team to look out for her, because you did, but at least if something did happen to Natasha you could put that weight on your shoulders no one else’s. You had watched as Wanda had done something to her, and you wished that you could have stopped her before that happened, you just sat with Natasha knowing she didn’t want to talk about it. You knew what happened to her in the Red Room, what they had made her do, and you figured that the witch had brought her back to that. It made you angry, knowing that Natasha wasn’t herself right now because the witch made her go through all of that again. You helped her into the house that Clint had brought you too. All of you ( aside from Natasha ) were surprised at what you found inside. You didn’t know that Barton had a family, and you understood why he wanted to keep them safe. No one could hurt them if they didn’t know they were even there. You wished you could keep Natasha safe, but you knew that wasn’t your choice, Natasha wanted to do this, and that was why you stood beside her, why you would follow her anywhere, because at least you knew you’d make sure nothing happened to her, that she would be safe. Though you knew you had let her down when Wanda put her through what she did, you'd make sure that never happened again.

You watched as Thor left, and everyone began to do their own thing. You smiled watching Natasha with Lila and then Lila moved over to where you were standing. You were never good with children, you always seemed to say something that just had them running away from you. So you were not sure what Lila wanted, but you were kneeling in front of her, keeping your hands to yourself because you also didn’t know if she liked to be touched by strangers or not. “Are you Aunty Natty’s friend?” She asked you and you smiled and nodded your head. “I’m her best friend, even if she doesn’t admit it to herself.” You say with a light chuckle, though the young child didn’t understand what you were saying. “Hey. Um. Do you like to draw?” You ask and you watch as she is nodding her head enthusiastically. “How about we draw then, yeah?” You ask and she was then leading you over to her drawing table, and you both sat down drawing. You weren’t drawing anything particular, and you made sure you weren’t drawing greatly. You were just drawing stick figures and crappy houses. You smiled when you heard Lila giggling at your picture, her telling you that you draw horribly. “Alright, how about you show me how you draw then?” You ask, and you watch as she was drawing before Cooper was pulling at your suit to get your attention. “Can you play catch with me?” He asks you, and you nod your head, telling Lila to keep drawing and you’ll come back to look at it when you and Cooper are done. You didn’t know that Natasha was in the kitchen watching you with the children. Watching as Lila stopped drawing because she wanted to play with you and Cooper also. She had a smile upon her face just watching the three of you. You always told Natasha that you were terrible with children, that you always said something that scared them away, and yet here you were with Clint’s children, making them laugh and playing with them.

You would be a good mother, Natasha knew this, she could see it now. Natasha had been drying the same plate for a few minutes now, and Laura was smiling at her, seeing the way she was watching you and not paying attention to the plate that was in her hands right now. “You’re staring, Nat.” Laura tells her, bringing the redhead out of her thoughts and Laura couldn’t help but laugh seeing her blinking like she was in a daze. “She always told me that she was horrible with children, that she scared them away yet she seems to be doing fine with your children.” Natasha says to her, as she places the plate in the cupboard where it was supposed to go. “Is that why you’re staring?” Laura asks her, and Natasha could hear the underlying tone in her words, making her shake her head at Laura. “Of course it is. What else would it be?” Natasha asks her, the smile not leaving Laura’s face as she continues to clean the dishes and hand them over to Natasha. “Oh I don’t know, Natasha. Seems like you’re looking almost like you want her.” Laura says as Clint walks into the kitchen almost wearing the same look as his wife. “Okay, you two really have terrible poker faces.” Natasha says making Laura laugh as she watches Natasha putting another bit of dishes away and then coming back to rest her back against the counter, while still looking out the window at you. “There has to be something going on between them, am I right, Clint? She can’t keep her eyes off of her.” Laura says as she finishes up in the kitchen, making Clint chuckle and placing a hand on her arm. “Oh yeah, you can definitely cut the sexual tension with a knife.” He says making Natasha throw a towel at him. “Go be productive somewhere else would you?” Natasha asks him, which has him chuckling and leaving the kitchen with Laura beside him. Truthfully her heart was pounding in her chest the whole time Laura had been talking to her. Her eyes continued to stay on you, watching the way you were laughing and fumbling with the football. She knew that you had good hand eye coordination so she knew that you were just playing around with the children making them laugh and not feeling like they were unable to keep up with you.

It had her sighing as she moved outside now, so she could see you more clearly. She rested against the banister, her fingers lacing together as she continued to watch you. It didn’t seem out of the norm for her to watch you. Right now you were just playing with the children, something she never got to see, not until now. It was a good look, you didn’t have any stress on your face, you were free right now. Her cheeks hurt from the way she was smiling too much. She didn’t even know she was smiling until her cheeks were hurting. She watched as you started to play chase with the two children. Despite the mission you all went on, despite it being a hard mission, you still had energy to play with the children, to let all that weight lift off your shoulders. Natasha noticed that about you. That you could just let the missions roll off your shoulders so you could be there for everyone else. She heard the door open and close behind her, and she turned to see Laura coming out along with Clint making her groan inwardly. “If you’re staying here, you’re going to have to bunk up. And since you and Y/N seemed to be very close, I figured you both could bunk up.” Laura says and Natasha could see the way Clint was doing his best to not laugh which had her scowling at him. “Stop this. Nothing is happening between Y/N and I.” Natasha says as Laura places the fresh clothes down on the bannister while she is standing next to Natasha her eyes watching as you pretend to fall when Cooper tackles you. “Then why are you still out here watching her? With a goofy smile upon your face?” Laura asks Natasha who then turns her back on you and crosses her arms underneath her breasts. “And not to mention you’re getting defensive.” Clint says making Natasha roll her eyes at him. “Don’t go reading me, Barton. You know you can’t.” She says making Laura chuckle now and nudging her shoulder against Natasha’s. “Come on, Natty. What’s wrong with liking your best friend?” Laura asks her making Natasha bite at her bottom lip.

Did she really like you? In that way? Of course she trusted you with everything, aside from Barton you were the only one that knew what she’d done, what she had been through. She felt safe around you, felt like she could be herself, to let all her walls down around you to let you in completely. It was you who she turned up for when she had nightmares. It was always you that she called out for. You were the one that she would let see her crumbling. You were the one that saw her tears fall, and hear how she hated herself. But it was always you telling her how amazing she was, how beautiful inside and out that she was. You let Natasha know just how strong she was, just how much strength it took for her to get through what she had gotten through. You told her that what she’d done was none of her fault. Natasha didn’t notice that Laura and Clint weren’t there, she didn’t notice that you’d stopped playing with Cooper and Lila. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that when she felt your touch against her cheek, she just melted into your arms. “You’d make a good mother you know?” You hear Natasha ask you, making you smile against her hair as you press a kiss to her curls like you always did. “So would you, Tash. Maybe one day you can adopt one, yeah? Or two. Have a boy and a girl.” You say to her, before she was pulling back because she needed to see your eyes, she needed to see the care in your eyes. “I’d need help, I couldn’t do it on my own.” Natasha says her vision became blurry and she realized that she was crying, but she could see the smile upon your face as you pressed your forehead toward her own. “Good thing that you have me, huh?” You ask which has Natasha’s chin trembling as her grip on your waist tightens, like she was afraid the wind would just blow you away from her, and that she’d never be able to touch you again.

“Do I?” She asks as the tears fall to her cheeks, her voice cracking, her hands trembling against your waist. “Do you what?” You ask, the confusion evident in your voice and she runs a shaky finger between your brow, straightening it out as she sniffles softly. “Do I have you?” She asks you, and you feel your own tears falling down your cheeks, and you pull Natasha in, your lips meeting hers, and honestly. You never felt anything like this. Her lips against yours felt like a summer rain falling around you, soaking you from head to toe, surrounding you in a complete bliss that you didn’t want to end. She tasted like spice, but she was everything nice in your mind. “I didn’t know I was in love with you, until now. Until your lips crashed against mine, until you let me in and I got to see everything that is beautiful about you, Natasha. The red in your ledger is beautiful because it’s who you are. Your flaws and your guilt is what makes you, you. A terrible person doesn’t have nightmares about what they've done, and yet you have nightmares almost every night, telling them how sorry you are, begging them to not forgive you. How could someone not love you? I’d have as many children with you as you’d allow. You want a hundred children? I’d give you a hundred. If you don’t want them, then we won’t have them. We’ll adopt a cat or a dog or something. Or a goldfish. Though just don’t try to throw the goldfish off your two story building and into a bowl, because they won’t make it.” You say making Natasha laugh while wiping at her cheeks. “You’re everything someone could want in a person, Natasha.” You whisper to her, before she is pressing a kiss back to your lips. “Speak for yourself. I won’t make a big speech, because you just sounded like you were saying your vows, and I think it’s too soon for that.” Natasha says though she watches as you were shaking your head at her, your lips pressing to the back of her hand now. “It’s never too early to be with someone for the rest of your life. I’m sorry that it took me this long to admit my feelings to you, but I thought you just wanted to be friends, and I was content with that. I’d rather have you in my life as a friend, than not have you in my life at all. I get nightmares too, Tasha. The worst nightmare I’ve ever had? Are you telling me I’m not good enough to be friends with you. That I’m not right for you. My worst nightmare is not having you in my life.”

You whisper softly, and it was Natasha’s turn to pull you in for a hug, her lips pressing against your neck. “If it weren’t for Laura and Clint meddling like they do, I would have probably never known how much I love you.” She says to you making you chuckle as you wrapped your arms tightly around her back holding onto her closely. “Guess on our wedding day we’ll have to thank them for their big noses. And maybe to make it up to them, we’ll make them godparents.” You say to her, before she was pulling back to look at your face. “Do you want children with me?” She asked you and you were nodding your head, your hand patting her ass softly. “Of course I do. Though if our child runs from me, you might have to remind me that I’m just not a good mother as you think I am.” You say which earns a slap from Natasha. “Stop. they’re not going to run unless you play chase with them. So remember that when you see them running from you, that you’re just playing chase.” She says smiling when she hears your laughter. “So we’re really doing this then?” You ask her, and she takes your hand in hers, interlocking your fingers together as she swings your hand back and forth with hers. “We’re really doing this, baby girl. But first. We’re going to have to get through the teasing.” She says which has you groaning as you both make your way to the front door to walk back inside. “Please, kill me now.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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cosmiclove-heavenstruck · 3 years

Text

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –”

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

#Harry Potter #Harry James Potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #fluff #oneshot #my writing #angst #slow burn

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lmeskitz · 2 years

Text

Sorry this is short! I hope you enjoy! <3

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Pronouns used- he/him

Request- nope!

Title- Killua Zoldyck Reunites with his Unofficial Older Brother Reader.

Origin- Tumblr

Warnings- super brief mention of abuse you’ll miss if u blink. Fluffy!

Find my Masterlist here

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Killua Zoldyck’s Reunion with his Unofficial Older Brother Reader

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When I arrived to the hunter exam, this guy gave me a badge with a number . I put the badge on and decided to scope out the competition. I didn’t see anyone overly intimidating except this one clown dude that made a guy turn into flowers.

I shrugged and continued walking until this guy came up to me and offered me juice. I took it and drank three cans. He looks at me like a grew two heads, but again, I shrugged it off. I decided to rest while I waited for the exam to begin.

I found a wall and sat down. Sometime later, a kid that looked about 11-12 with white fluffy hair and electric (get it??) blue eyes came up to me. He was holding a skateboard.

I looked up at him with my e/c eyes. I swear I recognized him from somewhere. He reminded a lot of my old friend Killua Zoldyck.

Me and Killua were childhood friends. I’m like 5 years older him, so I was more like his older brother. (One that, yk doesn’t abuse him in a basement)

My family was very close with the Zoldycks, so I would go over there pretty often. Me and Killua would get into all kinds of mischief. From things like stealing food from the kitchen, to trolling Milluki on Discord. That was until my dad got into a very intense argument with the Zoldycks. After that, our families lost all contact with each other, so I wasn’t able to see Killua anymore.

To tell you that I was scared was an understatement. I was so insanely worried about him. I know he’s an assassin, so am I. Hell, we’ve gone on missions together before. I know he could take care of himself, but that overprotective brotherly instinct was too much. I decided that after three years of worrying, I’d do something to distract myself, so here I am at the hunter exam.

I looked back up at this kid. He looked so much like him. I felt a stinging behind my eyes, and looked back down.

He sat next to me and extended his hand. “Hey. I’m Killua, you look really familiar, so I was wondering is your name y/n l/n? If not then ignore me, but I’ve been looking for him for a while.”

I look at Killua in awe. Here he is, my unofficial little brother. I take his hand and pull him into a hug. Silent tears falling down my cheeks.

He seemed shocked for a second, then he hugged back. He dug his face into my neck and mumbled, “I missed you so much y/n, please don’t leave again.” his voice getting higher as he talked.

“I won’t I promise, I missed you so much Kil.” I say, my voice braking a little at the end.

He looked so vulnerable right now as his body shook with silent sobs. I know he wouldn’t normally be this vulnerable, but I’ve seen him way worse. He knew I wouldn’t punish or make fun of him.

We pulled back from the hug and looked at each other.He wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. Then his eyes lit up and he stood.

“Guess what y/n? I made a friend! I wanna show him to you, his name is Gon!” He says as he pulls me up.

“Okay.” I say with a laugh.

He holds my hand and leads me over to a kid with spiky black-ish green hair.

The kid ‘Gon’ smiled and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you y/n I’m Gon! Killua told me he was looking for you, I’m glad he was able to find you.” He said with a bright smile.

“I’m glad to.” I said as I pull Kil into a side hug.

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A/n-

Oof, I’m sorry about the crappy writing, and that this is so short. :,)

I have no inspiration at all, and I wrote this in like 20 mins lmao. This will probs be re-written sometime in the future. I hope u like it tho. ^^

#killua x reader #killua zoldyck #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #x male reader #male reader #Hxh x male reader

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

Never Too Late - Chris Evans x reader

a/n- hey lovely people!! i hope you’re all doing well:) i’ve been working on this one for a while, and i’m super excited to finally share it! because it’s Chris’ birthday, i wanted to have some fun with this, so in the story, chris says 3 things that are quotes / paraphrases of some of his characters’ quotes (like 3 things his characters said in movies lol). see if you can find all 3 of them;) enjoy<3

Summary: Romance is an illusion. Unattainable. Absolutely unrealistic. No one can have a fairytale love story. But maybe, you don't need a fairytale. You just need each other. (In which you and Chris have each given up on romance, but then you meet, and… sparks fly.)

Word Count: 9.6k (hello longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!)

Warnings: some curse words, (responsible) alcohol consumption, slight angst?? honestly it’s just obliviousness, slow burn!!!

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This was a waste of time.

I'm sorry, the text read, something came up. Raincheck? ;)

Douche. He was the one that asked if you could do this today instead of tomorrow, so you moved your meeting. But apparently, that didn't matter, since he wasn't planning to show up anyway.

You blocked his number, leaving your place at the bar and heading towards the exit. You were in the middle of typing out a furious message to your friend who set you up on this blind date, when you collided with someone in your path quite harshly. You rubbed your arm where you bumped into the person and gazed upwards to meet his eyes.

"Sorry," you both said in unison.

The man let out a chuckle. "Sorry," he repeated, his amused eyes gazing into yours.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," you said, "I wasn't looking where I was going," you lifted up your phone, gesturing to the reason.

"I'm sure it was important," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "don't worry about it."

"It really wasn't. Again, sorry," you grimaced.

"It's fine," he reassured you, "I was actually on my way to get another drink so it's not like I spilled anything, no harm done," he smiled.

"Well, I'm really glad. Have a good rest of your night," you smiled back. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned to continue your walk towards the exit, opening your texts to write that message to your friend, but as you were turning around the man reached out and grabbed onto your wrist, not harshly but enough to make you turn around to face him once more.

He immediately let go of your hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just… you seemed kind of upset when I bumped into you, are you alright?"

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "I'm fine," you looked up at him, "just got ditched by this blind date. Guy didn't show, so I was writing a furious message to my friend who set me up," you chuckled, "that's why I wasn't paying attention."

"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic grimace. "So why were you writing to your friend and not to the guy? I mean, he's the one who bailed."

"No offense, but I learned not to expect as much from the male species," you smirked, and he chuckled in return. "Got bailed on one too many times to have high expectations. Honestly, I was only willing to go on this date cause my friend said this was a great guy and, according to her, I was 'on the sure road to becoming a spinster'. So, I appeased her," you shrugged. Your confession left your lips with such ease, you were almost taken aback by how easy it was to talk to this complete stranger this openly. Maybe, it was easier because you were strangers.

"Ah, I know what that's like. I mean, not the spinster part, the part about appeasing your friends," he chuckled. "They're over there," he gestured to a table a little to the back, "to 'cheer me up'. Said I needed to leave my house more. Although I don't know if they're still sober enough to remember that's why they're here," he smiled affectionately as he looked at his table. Sure enough, the guys looked pretty drunk, but the man didn't seem to resent them for it, he was just amused.

"What did you need cheering up for?" you asked once his gaze went back to meet yours.

"Well, I got dumped. We were together for a few years. I even had a ring," he raised his eyebrows, "but she said it wasn't working out anymore. At least she didn't know about the ring yet," he smiled bitterly.

"Small victories," you nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "anyway, she just finished taking the last of her stuff from ou- my place. She was really lingering with it, we broke up like a month ago. Didn't have the heart to rush her."

"I'm sorry," you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. He seemed to appreciate it anyway. "Your sob story's way worse than mine," you joked, getting a small huff of laughter out of him.

"I guess," he said. "But that means I get where you're coming from on the whole no dating thing. It just seems pointless," he shrugged.

"I'm sure this is the part where anyone else would've told you that it'll be okay and you'll find 'your person', but since I'm shittier than that I'll be honest – romance is dead and we'll both probably die alone," you said flatly.

Your blunt tone made him smile, which in turn made you smile, and you nodded as your words sank into the silence between you. You started giggling, and soon he followed, and you were both laughing softly for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning, "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's sad."

"Very sad," you agreed, a grin on your face as well. "to be fair, spinsterhood doesn't sound that bad. Except for the cats thing. I'll never be a crazy cat lady," you shook your head, "they hate me, every single one. I'd get dogs though," you mused, "have a little army of 'em."

"Sounds fun," he smiled.

"Right?" you smiled back, "I'm telling you, it's not as bad as people make it out to be."

Wrapped up in your conversation, you were both still standing next to the bar, and another man pushed past you to get to the bartender. The bubble around the two of you exploded, and you remembered that you were still in public, at the bar.

"You should go get that drink you were here for," you said, gesturing towards the bar.

"Alright," he chuckled. Just then, the man finished ordering, so he told the bartender what he'd like to have, then turned to you.

"Hey, romance might be dead, but chivalry isn't. Let me buy you a drink," he grinned.

"Be still my beating heart," you feigned emotion, before a smile crept back onto your face. "I'll have whatever you're having," you shrugged, and waited as he told the bartender to bring you two another drink.

"So, if you're buying me a drink, I feel like it's only fair I should know your name," you smiled.

"That does seem fair," he sent a small smile your way. "I'm Chris," he put out his hand and you shook it, telling him your name in return.

"So, you come here often?" he smirked, prompting the both of you into another fit of laughter.

"For real though," you said once you got your drinks, "I'm really not looking for anything romantic right now. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," he reassured, "I'm not either."

"Okay good cause this is like, really tasty, so I wouldn't mind having a couple more," you held up the drink he got you with a grin, making him laugh.

You did have a couple more, with Chris. You ended up sitting at the bar, his friends not really noticing he was gone, and talking about anything and everything. You were almost reluctant to end the night, but you really should get home, which is what you told Chris before getting up and getting your wallet.

"Hey, no," he said and gestured for you to put it away, "I was serious, I'll pay."

"Really? I mean, this wasn't a date so I just thought-"

He shook his head adamantly and you put your hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Thank you," you told him as you put your wallet away.

"You're very welcome. Although, there is something I still want to ask you. Can I get your number?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could he spoke up again.

"Nothing romantic, I swear," he chuckled, "but it was really fun hanging out tonight. We should do it again. Completely platonically." He smiled sincerely.

You narrowed your eyes in mock suspicion before laughing. "Alright. Sure, you can have my number," you said, and he grinned before giving you his phone. You put in your number and gave it back.

"See you around, Chris," you smiled before leaving the bar, the smile lingering on your face all the way back to your house.

And when your friends asked you how the date was, you told them he bailed and you went home, never mentioning meeting Chris. You knew how they'd see it, and it wasn't like that, so you just… kept it to yourself. For now.

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On your way to Chris' house, you picked up the takeout from the place he told you about, before texting him you got it and you were almost there.

It's been a couple of weeks since you met him, and so far he was proving to be a great friend. You texted back and forth most days, but never found the time to meet up again, until today, that is.

You had texted him about your crappy day at work, and how happy you were this week was finally, finally over, so he invited you t his house, and suggested you watch a movie. And well, you accepted. A movie night with a friend was just what you needed to put this shitty week behind you.

"Hi," you greeted him once he opened the door.

"Hi!" he took the takeout bags from your hands and gestured for you to follow him inside, and into the kitchen. "So," he started, while taking out the food, "I realized forgot to tell you; I have a dog," he smiled apologetically, "I don't know if that's a problem, he's in my room upstairs, I won't-"

"Are you kidding?" you nearly squealed, "of course that's not a problem! I told you if I could I'd be a crazy dog lady," you giggled. "Can I meet him?"

"Great!" he chuckled at your enthusiasm, "sure, I'll go get him."

As he went upstairs, you stood there, looking around his kitchen. You weren't sure what to do, it seemed like he got all the food, and it wasn't your house, so… you just stood there.

Fortunately, you soon heard the patter of footsteps, and just as you were about to call out to Chris to ask him if there was anything you could do to help, you heard him yell out.

"Dodger!"

And just then, a big whirl of movement came towards you, and before you knew it a large dog was resting his paws on you, nearly knocking you back. You regained your footing before you crouched down to your knees with a beam.

"Hey," you cooed at the excited dog, who was wagging his tail and still trying to climb onto you, apparently. "Hey," you repeated yourself, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. "It's so nice to meet you," you kept cooing and stroking his fur. He propped himself up and licked your cheek, making you giggle. "Thank you, you're so cute," you scratched his neck affectionately.

"Sorry about him, he gets excited around new people," Chris came into the kitchen apologizing.

"No worries," you grinned as the large dog laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to you in a silent request for belly rubs which you willingly provided. "He's adorable," you looked up at Chris, who was grinning back at you.

"He really is," he agreed, going to finish putting the food in plates before lifting them.

"Can I help with anything?" you asked, still crouched down and petting Dodger.

"Nope, all set," he smiled, "let's go."

He led the way to his living room, where he set the plates down on the coffee table and picked up the remote. "So, what do you wanna watch?"

"Oh, I don't know," you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, "you can pick."

"Well, I would, but we're here because you've had a shitty week, so you should pick whatever you want."

"Ugh, don't remind me. See, Dodger would never do this to me," you turned your gaze to the dog, who has settled at your feet, and started petting him again. "Right? Of course you won't, you're the cutest dog," you cooed.

Chris burst out into a short laugh. "Are you going to steal my dog?"

"It's a very real possibility," you said dryly, shrugging. You turned your gaze to him, your hand still petting Dodger, and smirked.

"Okay, so are you gonna pick a movie now that we've settled that?" he asked, smiling.

"I don't know what to pick," you admitted, "I don't wanna put on anything you don't like, I guess," you mumbled.

"Awwwww, it's fine," he assured with an easy smile, "pick whatever."

You caved and put on a movie you really liked – The Princess Bride. As he realized what movie you were putting on, Chris chuckled.

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"See? I told you I'd put on something you wouldn't like. Forget it, we can just-"

"No, no!" he cut you off, "I really like this movie," he grinned, "I just wouldn't expect that from someone who claims romance is dead, that's all," he chuckled.

"Well, movies have… dragons in them. Do you think dragons are real just cause they're in movies?" you reasoned.

"Okay, I see your point," he raised his hands in mock surrender.

A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you from that point, the only thing filling it was the sound of the movie playing and the occasional shuffling sound when either of you, or Dodger, shifted on the couch.

A bit later, Chris spoke up. "Hey, want a beer?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't have any. Driving myself home and all," you shrugged.

"Yeah, that's smart," he chuckled. You were both lowering your voices, as if not to disrupt the movie which was still playing. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all," you answered truthfully, "It's your house."

He let out another short chuckle, nodding before getting up. When he heard Chris getting up, Dodger lifted his head from where he was laying, and swiftly followed him into the kitchen.

When they returned, Chris brought you a glass of water, and gave it to you before sitting down. Dodger jumped back up onto the sofa, curling up beside Chris, laying his head on his stretched-out legs.

"Awwww," you softly smiled, "that's adorable. He really loves you."

"Not nearly as much as I love him," Chris replied, smiling and fondly rubbing Dodger's head.

"See, that's good love. Love that lasts," you remarked. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned your head back to the movie.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Huh?" you turned your head back to Chris.

"What did you mean by that?" he repeated.

"Oh, nothing," you shook your head. "Just, you know. I know I seem very opposed to romance, but I'm not against love. I love my family," you shrugged, "because they made me the person I am today. They're a part of me. I just don't think that a love between two people who aren't family can last in the same way."

"Yeah. You're probably right. What about dogs though? They're certainly not blood related to us," he joked.

"Certainly," you laughed, "But dogs aren’t as fucked up as humans, so it's not really comparable. Dogs don’t stay up thinking about something embarrassing they did five years ago. Dogs probably don't even get embarrassed, really. They don't have as many doubts and… restrictions. Barriers. They don't have to make everything complicated."

"But humans do."

"Bingo," you chuckled dryly.

"We really do, don't we?" he sighed. "No one really knows what they're doing or who they are. How can you know someone else enough to truly love them when you don't even know yourself?"

"Exactly. You get it," you toasted your glass of water against his beer bottle. "it's too much effort for something that lasts so little."

"Not necessarily little," he suggested, "but never enough. You know, in movies, love is this big force of nature that draws two people towards each other so strongly… it's undeniable, unavoidable. Meant to be," he chuckled. "That feels so far away from anything I've ever experienced."

"Me too, if that's any comfort," you grimaced sympathetically. "Maybe we're just meant to be alone."

"Maybe. Anyway, that's grim," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," you smiled. "Every time I talk about it with my friends, I get told I just haven't found the right person yet, and to keep on hoping and everything will magically be sunshine and rainbows," you fluttered your eyelashes cynically. "It's fun to know there's at least one more realistic person out there," you sent him a small smile, which he returned.

You both turned back to watch the movie, which was heading towards the end at this point. The handsome prince saves the brave princess. He's not really a prince, but, you know. Same difference; it's a fairytale, a legend.

Something no one can ever truly have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris and you had developed a habit of calling each other on Mondays, since they were the worst, and you both needed to vent. You were in the middle of one of those calls when something he said made you abruptly stop making your dinner.

"How come I didn't know it was your birthday?" you asked, surprised, at his admission that his birthday was yesterday.

"It never came up," he said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The party's on Friday anyways, if you wanna come. You can bring some friends too, if you want. There's plenty of space."

"Yeah, okay," you smiled to yourself, "sure. Happy belated birthday, Chris."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "So you'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, I guess," you sighed dramatically, prompting him to laugh.

"Great! See ya Friday," he said.

"See you."

After you hung up the call, you returned to your dinner, but not before texting your friends to invite them along. If you were getting on so nicely with Chris, you assumed the rest of his friends were nice people, so would in turn get along with your friends. Who were also nice people, obviously.

Or maybe, not so obviously.

There was an immediate flood of messages asking about who Chris is and how you met and if he's cute.

You ignored them in favor of finishing making your dinner, and only then sat down with your food and answered their questions, except for that last one.

He's a friend of mine I met not long ago, nice guy, you replied to the group chat.

And?? one of your friends texted.

And he invited me to this party he's throwing for his birthday, and told me I could bring friends, so now I'm inviting you guys. Hopefully, I won't regret that.

But is he cute???

I don't know, and I don't care. You know I'm not looking for anything right now!!

You're no fun. Fine, we'll come and see for ourselves ;P

You scoffed to yourself and continued to eat your dinner, unbothered. Maybe they should come, you mused, just to see that it's possible to make friends without dating them, like a sane adult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed as Chris ushered you and your friends into his house. "I brought you a wine," you extended the bottle and he took it.

"Thank you!" he said loudly, to overpower the music that was playing. "Is it good?"

"How should I know? I didn't drink from it, it's your gift!" you joked. He laughed before giving you a one-armed hug and waving at your friends. "I'm gonna put this away," he pointed towards the kitchen, "But you should go to the living room, everyone's there."

You gave him a thumbs up and led your friends towards the living room.

"He even laughs at your bad jokes," your friend cooed in your ear, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.

"We're not a couple!" you reminded her.

"Maybe not yet, but I'm just saying you'd make a good one," she shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

You ignored her, and continued walking. On your way to the living room, you did see a whole bunch of other people, but still, the party wasn't huge, especially compared to Chris' large house. There were no more than probably about 80 people there, not including yourself and your friends.

Pouring yourself a drink, you sat down next to your friends, who were already making small talk with another group, and joined the conversation.

Some time went by before the conversation turned to romance, and everyone started sharing funny stories about their significant others.

"What about you?" asked a woman from the other group. She seemed friendly, an easygoing smile on her face. "Everyone has a story to tell."

Before you could answer, one of your friends chimed in. "Oh, she doesn't do romance," she teased.

"Sounds mysterious," the woman laughed.

"Yep," you smiled, amused, "that's me. Dark, brooding, and mysterious."

As you were all laughing, Chris came down to sit next to you. "Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile, a model host.

"Yeah," one of your friends answered, "we were just talking about how this one never dates anymore," she pointed at you, and you caught Chris' look, amused. "What do you think about that?" your friends asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.

"I think she should do whatever she wants to," he answered with a smile.

"Oh, don’t be diplomatic," she said, "don't you think she should find someone?" she pressed.

"I think she should do whatever she feels like," he persisted.

"Whatever," your friend rolled her eyes with a smile. "Every pot has a lid. Sooner or later, you'll find yours," she said, your words pointed at you now.

You were quiet for a brief moment before speaking up. "Oh, you're done talking about me like I'm not here. Sorry, you were saying?"

The entire group burst into laughter, and you caught Chris' gaze again.

Sorry, you mouthed, shrugging.

It's fine, he mouthed back with a small smile.

The urge to kill your friend subsided when you saw Chris didn't take her pestering too seriously.

For the rest of the night, you proceeded to have a good time, making conversation with a few other people and only running into Chris one more time.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, toasting his cup to yours.

"Yeah. You throw a great party," you smiled.

"I'm glad you think that," he returned your smile.

After that you returned to your friends, and a little while later you all decided to head home. You searched for Chris, thanked him for hosting the party and wished him a happy birthday, and went home.

"You're telling me there's nothing there?" your friend asked you on the ride home.

"There's nothing there," you sighed. "I don't know why you all want there to be."

"We just know what it's like being in love. And we want that for you. It's fun," she smiled.

"Parkour also sounds fun, that doesn't mean I can or am going to do it," you retorted. "You know what I think about being in love. Different people have different paths and abilities. I can be happy without a sweeping romance."

"I know, you're a strong independent woman and you don’t need no man," she rolled her eyes. "Just… don't close yourself off to the opportunity. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay," you shrugged.

Shortly after, she dropped you off, and you went to sleep, thinking nothing of the whole ordeal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She came by today.

When you got the text from Chris on Wednesday, you were puzzled for a few moments before you realized. His former fiancée. I mean, almost fiancée.

Shit

Is everything okay?

It only took him a couple of seconds to reply.

Yeah, I guess.

On an obviously unrelated note, wanna come drink?

You chuckled before texting him your ETA, quickly changing from the already rumpled clothes you had worn all day, and driving to his place.

You texted him when you were outside, and when you walked up to his door it was already opened, and he was waiting for you, a bottle of beer in hand.

"Aw, you drove yourself here?" he asked, before ushering you in, "I told you we should drink."

"Yeah," you chuckled, "but it's not like there's anyone I can ask to drive me on a random Wednesday. It's fine, you drink."

"But I don't wanna drink alone," he whined. "Can't you just spend the night then? I have a guest bedroom."

You opened your mouth to refuse, but then assessed it again. You were in pretty comfortable clothes, you were starting work a little later than usual tomorrow, and well… he needed a friend, and he asked you.

"Okay, fine," you chuckled, "gimmie one of those," you gestured at his beer.

He made a little celebratory motion with his hand before going and getting you another beer.

"So," you started as you took a swig of your beer, "how was your day?"

He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Great. Yeah, just… just great," he took a large gulp of his beer. You waited, giving him the space he needed to speak again. "She wanted to get back together, actually," he scoffed. You frowned, but still refrained from speaking.

"You know, I… I still have the ring," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I still have the ring because I wanted her to come back. But when she finally did I… I couldn't say yes to her. Because it's forever or nothing. And I don't think I'm meant to have a forever. Certainly not with someone who broke up with me anyways," he took another sip of his beer.

"If it's any comfort, I don't think there's such a thing as forever," you shrugged, and he looked at you quizzically. "I told you," you said, "all romance is momentary."

"Maybe that's true," he sighed again. "At any rate, I am now stuck with this ring, which is just… fantastic. Really awesome."

"Can't you bring it back to the shop?"

"Tried to. They won't take it back, say it's been too long for their return policy. That money's lost," he took another sip of beer.

"Well, you know, if it's lost anyways…" you smiled, "I think I have an idea of what to do with it. but first," you raised your beer in a toast, "we do need to be a little drunker for this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few too many drinks later, you and Chris were stumbling in a park near his home.

"How do you know where we are?" he asked, before nearly tripping on his face, making you giggle as he managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.

"I've been here before," you explained, a little less drunk than he was but still positively buzzed. "It's really pretty."

"It is," he agreed, taking in the trees around you as you kept going. "It's also very isolated. Are you going to kill me?" he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"No," your loud laugh rang through the park, breaking the silence of the night. "I'm not gonna kill you. Promise. Now c'mon, we're nearly there!" you beckoned him to follow you as you ran forward.

The rest of the way went by quickly, the both of you striding hurriedly, or as hurriedly as your inebriated minds would allow, engulfed in the comforting silence of the night. Finally, you got to a clearing with a large lake.

The crescent moon reflected in the water, and the lake was shimmering slightly as the wind disturbed it. The only sounds were those of your slightly labored breath, the soft trickling of the water, and the occasional flap of a bird's wings. The silence surrounded you, but it wasn't suffocating, it was as clear as the water in front of you.

It was finally broken when Chris spoke up again.

"You got me drunk so you could drown me in a lake?"

You burst into another fit of laughter. "First of all," you said in between giggles, "if anyone got anyone drunk it's you convincing me to drun- drink."

It was his turn to laugh at your mix-up. "Shut up," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now c'mon. You have the ring, right?"

"Yep," he said, fishing it out of his pocket. "But why did you want me to bring it?"

"Well, the fact I'm not gonna drown you in the lake doesn't mean we're not drowning anything."

"My ex-fiancée?" his mouth dropped open into an o shape.

"No!" you facepalmed. "The ring. You're gonna throw the ring in the river!"

"I am?"

"God, I'm starting to think I got you too drunk," you rolled your eyes. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna think about your relationship. You're gonna reminisce about everything, good and bad, and you're gonna put it in this ring. In your head, of course," you added before he could chime in.

"So I can let go," he nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," you smiled. "We don't need romance. Fuck romance. Fuck forever. You're better than that!"

"Amen!" he said, toasting an invisible glass in the air, making you laugh once more. It was probably the alcohol, but you hadn't laughed like this in a while. It was fun to laugh loudly, freeing. You wondered why you didn't do it more often.

"Alright!" you clapped your hands once, shaking from your thoughts. "Let's get this show on the road!"

You both stepped closer to the lake, and then Chris held out his hand in front of him, his palm open with the ring on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then his gaze snapped up to meet yours and he nodded shortly. You didn't speak, you just reached out and closed his fingers around the ring, before stepping aside and gesturing for him to go ahead. He stared at his fist for another moment before taking a swing and throwing the ring as far as he could. You held your breath until you heard the sound of the ring hitting the water, which made you release a breath full of awe.

"You did it," you said softly.

"I did it," he slowly repeated. "I did it!" he yelled out and you laughed in surprise. "I did it!" he yelled again, and in a few short strides he was next to you, picking you up and spinning you around in celebration.

"Put me down!" you shouted at him between fits of laughter, "Lunatic!"

He put you down, grinning widely. "I can't believe I just threw that ring into the lake. That was so stupid."

"It kinda was," you laughed, breathless.

"It was your idea!"

"I know! It's still stupid," you kept laughing, nearly doubling over. "Felt good though, didn’t it?"

"It really did," he let out a bewildered laugh. "Fuck. It really did," he said, and started laughing, which made you start laughing again, and before you knew it you were both laying on the grass, laughing until your cheeks hurt.

"My cheeks hurt," you pouted.

"Awww, I'm sorry," he drawled, reaching out to pinch your cheek, making you swat his hand away, glaring at him. He just giggled again, laying on his back and looking up to the sky.

You laid back as well, staring up.

"I wish I knew something about the stars," he said out of the blue.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Oh, just anything. I don't know jack shit about 'em."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's Orion's Belt," you said, pointing up to a group of three stars. "So now you know that about the stars."

He said your name, making you turn your head to look at him. "You're a good friend," he smiled.

"You're a good friend too," you smiled back at him.

"No, I'm not. All I ever do is moan about my stupid ex."

"I'm sure she wasn't stupid," you reasoned.

"She was! She was stupid with two o's," he mumbled in disdain. You giggled at his words. "I'm not hung up on her," he continued. "I'm just… disillusioned. I thought she was the one. And now that she's gone… I don't know if there's gonna be a one. Which is sad. So I've been sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I was sad too when I started thinking that," you whispered, sobering up a little. "But we don’t need 'a one', Chris. Romance is dead, but life goes on. We're on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."

"I spent so much of my life looking forward to spending the rest of my life with someone. And now that I realize that might not be the case… I guess I just realized that this is it. The rest of my life. I needed to throw that ring to make peace with that."

"Glad I could help," you gave him a half-smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze.

"Yeah," he returned a squeeze of his own, "me too."

"C'mon," you said, leaving his hand and getting up, before helping him to his feet as well. "We should get going."

You stumbled your way home, leaning on each other for some parts of the way. Sleepy and still a little buzzed, you finally got to his house, and he led you to the guest bedroom.

"Goodnight," he said, smiling.

"Goodnight," you whispered back, before he turned and walked up the stairs. You listened to him climb, and heard the sound of another set of footsteps, soft cooing coming from upstairs, and then heard the sound of a door closing.

Dodger, you thought with a smile, before closing your own door and plopping down on the bed.

In the last minutes of your wakefulness, you thought about how lucky dogs were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you dating him?"

"No!" you said indignantly, "have you listened to a single word I said?"

"Oh, so you're just not putting a label on it? you're a little too old for those games if you ask me, but suit yourself," your friend shrugged.

"Come on! He's just a friend," you huffed.

"If that's what you wanna tell yourself," she smirked, but then her look became more sincere. "Look, I know you. I know that every time we talk about him, you're happy. Why can't you admit that you like him?"

"I do like him, as a person! I like all of my friends!"

"You're impossible," she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile.

"You're impossible," you retorted weakly before smiling at her.

"You know we all just want you to be happy, right? That's all we want."

"I know," you said softly, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I am happy, on my own."

"If that's the case, then I'm happy for you," she sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a third wheel, especially with Sarah's wedding coming up. You're the last of us who hasn't tied the knot yet."

"I'll be fine at Sarah's wedding," you rolled your eyes.

"I know, I know," she raised her hands in surrender, "But I'm just saying, I know you're anti-romance, but I also know you're not anti-company. Maybe you should bring Chris. As your friend, if you insist" she added when she saw you open your mouth to object. "Just, you know, everyone's coming with someone, and I don't want you to sit alone."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but seriously, I think you're underestimating my social skills. You do realize I can talk to people I don't know, right?"

"I know," she huffed. "Just… consider it, okay? For me?"

"I'll think about it, I guess," you shrugged.

You had no intention of following through on that. Except, well, it did come up when you were talking to Chris.

"What are you doing Friday?" he asked, his voice mechanical through the phone. "I thought we could finally see that movie you're always talking about."

"Nope, can't do Friday," you said, the phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you were folding your laundry.

"Aw, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to you finally shutting up about it," he teased, making you chuckle. "What're you doing Friday then?"

"First of all, if you'd listen to me and see it, you wouldn't wanna shut up about it either, because it's awesome. Second, I'm going to a friend's wedding. I'm gonna sit aside, drink some wine, and make fun of all the drunk couples."

"Sounds like a real fun night," he teased.

"Yeah," you said sarcastically. "I am really happy for her though. I know she wanted it for a long time," you said, sincere now.

"Hey, um, if you want, maybe I could come laugh at drunk couples with you? So you'll have some company," he offered.

"Oh, you don't have to," you dismissed it, "I know it sounds like a bummer, but really, I'll be fine."

"No, really. No one should have to sit alone at weddings," he said.

"Another friend of mine told me that as well."

"Well then, this friend of yours is smart. Believe me, as a veteran of many sit-alone weddings myself, I can confirm it's indeed a huge bummer."

"Fine," you chuckled, "I guess if you want to come so badly you may," you said, making him laugh.

"Great, text me the details?"

"Yep," you smiled. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure, bye!"

You hung up the phone to get up and start putting all your clothes into the closet. After you were done with that, you sent Sarah a text to let her know you will be bringing a plus one at the end, asking her if that'd be okay.

Is it Chris????

Yeah

Then it's fine!! :)))

You chuckled to yourself and kept putting away your clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of the wedding, as a close friend of the bride's, you arrived at the venue a couple of hours beforehand, along with all of your friends. Chris came some time after guests started to arrive, and it didn't take you long to spot him in the crowds, looking a bit lost. You excused yourself quickly from the conversation you were in with some of the groom's friends and went to greet him.

"Hey!" you waved as you walked towards him, "Chris!"

Grinning when he saw you, he also began moving towards you, until you finally met in the middle.

"I'm glad you could make it," you smiled.

"I am too," he said, "seems like a nice wedding."

"Yeah. C'mon, you're just in time. They're gonna start the ceremony soon," you explained as you grabbed his arm and started leading him towards your seats.

"Oh-kay," he chuckled as you dragged him forward with surprising determination.

As you took your seats, you waved at your friends, and they freaked out over Chris being there, but you paid no mind to them, as Chris was leaning towards you, whispering, "You know, for someone who doesn't seem to enjoy romance, you sure do seem excited about this wedding."

"Well, I'm happy for Sarah. I've learned that me and my friends have a different outlook on that, and that's fine, it's useless to argue about it or whatever. I'm just happy she's gonna have what she wanted, even if I don't really believe in it."

"So how does that work? If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?"

"Chris, if one of my friends told me they found a way to adopt a unicorn, I'd be happy for them, no questions asked. Everyone should do what they feel like," you shrugged. "Now shhhh, they should be starting every minute now."

The ceremony was a beautiful one, and Sarah looked gorgeous in her white dress. As she walked down the aisle with a beaming smile, Chris' words echoed in your mind.

If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?

Despite your quick answer, you didn’t really know. The short answer was the one you told Chris, but the long one…

For the longest time, you believed romance just wasn't durable. Wasn't real. But maybe you just didn't believe that you can have that kind of romance? You just never really had someone to challenge your perception like that, because no one ever took it seriously, they just told you you'd find your person.

But that wasn't something you wanted to think about now, so you filled it away for later.

"It was a beautiful ceremony."

You and Chris were a little far out from the dancing crowd, somewhere a little quieter, but you could still see the dance floor from the bench you had found.

"Yeah, it was," you agreed with him.

"Not beautiful enough to make you cry, I guess?" he teased.

"Ha ha. I don't cry at weddings."

"I could've guessed that," he chuckled. "So what do you usually do at weddings? I mean, all your friends are married, so I'm assuming you've been to quite a few."

"What I'm doing right now. Sitting aside and drinking," you raised your glass in mock salute before taking a generous sip.

"Solid plan," he nodded slightly. "So you've never like, danced at weddings or anything?"

"No," you frowned, shaking your head slightly, "Why would I? I'm not a dancer, really.

"Well, how 'bout we go and change that?"

"Excuse me now?"

"I'm just saying, if you're really happy for your friend, maybe you should show her that. Enjoy yourself."

"I am enjoying myself," you deadpanned.

"Do what people are meant to do at weddings," he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were here to silently judge everyone with me. Don't make me regret inviting you," you jokingly waved your finger at him as if you were telling him off.

"That's still the plan. We could just probably still do that on the dance floor," he shrugged. "Your call."

There was a short-lived silence before you sighed. "Fine. One dance," you warned.

Getting up, he offered his arm to you, which you took, and you made your way o the dance floor. You started dancing to the end of the upbeat song that was playing, but just then it changed into something a little slower, and people were pairing up.

"This is the money time," Chris winked, and offered you his hand. You took it, almost instinctively, and you started dancing to the song, his other hand on your waist while yours was on his shoulder.

"What do you mean money time?" you whispered.

"Okay. We're gonna turn around, and you're gonna look at the couple that's gonna be behind me," he said, turning the both of you around casually as you danced.

"Oh my god," you suppressed your laughter. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Are they even a couple or is he her da- oh nope, he just kissed her on the lips. God," you grimaced as Chris laughed at your expression. "I at least hope he's rich for her sake."

You both chuckled, and it was only a couple of moments later that you gasped with a smile. "Don't be obvious cause they're pretty close, but look at the couple to my right."

"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Remind me not to go to any secluded corner of this wedding. These two are probably this close to running off to do things I definitely wouldn't wanna see."

"Right?" you said, amused, "They're practically eye fucking. Have some decency!"

You both laughed again, and then Chris nodded his head subtly in another direction. "Look at those two."

They were a couple that wasn't dancing, they were sitting at a table close to the dancefloor, their foreheads touching, seemingly murmuring to each other.

"Betcha they're the kind of couple who does the whole 'no you hang up!' thing," Chris continued with an amused grin.

"Oh they so are!" you burst into laughter. "They probably share a single spaghetti from both ends."

"Lady and the Tramp style," you both said at the same time, prompting you to tear your eyes from the couple and look at each other, giggling.

You continued dancing through the next song, and the next one, and the one after that. For pretty much the rest of the night, you two danced together, continuing to invent silly stories about the people you saw, laughing at each other's cheesy anecdotes.

When it was getting late and the party was winding down, Chris offered you a ride home, since he hasn't drunk, and you gratefully accepted. You came here with your friends, and they were all probably staying longer, but you were getting a little sleepy, so you decided to call it a night.

"Let's just go say goodbye to Sarah," you said and he nodded, letting you lead the way.

"Hey, I'm getting pretty tired, so we're gonna leave. Congratulations," you smiled once you had gotten to the table the happy couple was sitting at. As Chris was shaking the husband's hand, you had bent down to wrap your arms around Sarah in a tight hug.

"So you admit you're a 'we' now? You and Chris?" she teased, whispering in your ear.

"We're not," you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever you say," she smiled knowingly. "Thank you for coming," she said louder once you let go of her.

"It was a pleasure, congratulations," Chris smiled at the both of them, and you all gave your goodbyes.

On the way back, you were already lulling into sleep in the passenger's seat, and Chris smiled to himself.

"Chris," you mumbled from your half-asleep state.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming with me today. You're right. Dancing with you is better than sitting alone."

"Wow, what a compliment," he drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head buddy," you chuckled, before shifting around in your seat so your head was leaning on the window. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

"Sure," he smiled, "Sweet dreams."

"Thanks," you yawned.

When you got to your house, Chris gently nudged your shoulder a few times to wake you up. You woke up, confused for a second, but quickly regained your composure and thanked him for the ride.

You went into the house, barely changing out of your dress before plopping down on the bed.

It was kind of weird, honestly. Usually, no matter how tired you were, you wouldn't manage to fall asleep in a car, or a plane. Even a bed that wasn't yours was sometimes harder to sleep in.

But you were in your own bed now, so you didn't have a lot of time to mull that over before you sunk into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey," Chris greeted over the phone one Monday.

"Hi! How's it going?" you smiled.

"Fine. I mean, actually, do you wanna come over?"

"Right now?" you frowned.

"I mean, why not? Have the Monday chat in person."

"Um, sure. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit," you said. Hanging up, you didn't think too much of his invitation. He sounded fine, and he said he was. He was probably just being nice.

Soon enough you were knocking at his front door. It opened to reveal a very excited Dodger pouncing on you, and you giggled as you crouched down to pet him. "Yeah, hi Dodger! How's the cutest boy doing?"

"Ouch," Chris joked from the doorstep.

"Hello to you too, I guess," you said dryly, but with a grin on your face.

You all went inside, and Dodger went straight to his bed, curling up. "Your knock woke him up," Chris explained, smiling at the sight.

"Oh, sorry," you gave him a small smile.

"It's fine. As you can see, he has no problem going right back to sleep," he chuckled.

"Yeah," you giggled. "Is everything okay? I mean, is there a reason you wanted me to come except to enjoy my magnificent presence?" you teased.

"Well, that was mostly it," he laughed, "but actually, I did want to talk to you about something. Wanna go outside?"

"Um, sure," you said, frowning slightly before forcing yourself to smile again.

You stepped outside into his garden, sitting in the big lawn chairs.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.

"That's Orion's Belt, right?" he evaded, pointing at a group of stars in the night sky.

"I'm pretty sure it is," you shrugged.

For a moment, you were both quiet.

"I've changed my mind," Chris started. "This isn't the rest of my life. It's just my life."

"Okay," you said, not getting where he was going with this.

"You know, all these cheesy couples we made fun of at Sarah's wedding? I think they have it right."

"How come?"

"They realized that romance isn't about forever. It's about right here, right now. It’s in the little things. I've been so opposed to romance lately, and I was constantly thinking about how I wouldn't have a forever, so much so that I forgot what's going on now."

"And what's that?" you asked softly.

"Something much simpler than that. Happiness."

You stared at each other in silence, a slight frown still on your face.

"You make me happy," Chris admitted in a soft voice. "You make me really happy. And I don't want to lose your friendship, but I have to ask you this, because otherwise I don't think I'd forgive myself. Do you really not believe in romance? At all?"

"I don't know," you whispered. Clearing your throat, you continued a bit louder. "I don't believe in everyone's version of it. The happily ever after, forever. I don't need anyone to complete me either."

"There's always a middle road. Maybe not everyone has someone, and we don’t need romance, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to want it. We shouldn't have to sit alone at weddings," he said sincerely. After a breath, he continued. "I'm not asking you for forever. I don't want to. But I want to ask you for now. And I don't think I'd complete you, just like you don't complete me. But you do make my life a whole lot better."

"Chris, you know I'm not looking for anything, I told you that when we met," you said weakly.

"I know. I also wasn't looking for anything. And yet I found… something. And I'd be a coward not to pursue it. We can make our own kind of romance; not a happily ever after, but a happy here and now. No big cheesy gestures, or unreasonable promises, just… being together. And that means I can't promise you it'll work, that it'll be perfect. Hell, it'll probably be messy, and hard, and mundane, at times, but that's how life is. But I can promise I'll try. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life."

You thought back to every romantic relationship you've had. Every date you've been on. A lot of them were disappointing, but some of them were good.

None of them made you as happy as being with Chris did. Not one of your actual dates managed to top just hanging out with Chris. You didn't know why, but you felt safe with him, like you can be entirely yourself. You felt happy.

You didn't want to risk that. You didn't want to lose that. But what if taking this one risk would make it all that much better? You thought back to all of your friends, how happy they were with their significant other, how in love. What if putting your heart out on the line, for the first time in a long while, would make you happier than you had ever imagined?

Of course, it could also make you devastated. It could crush you. But that's the risk, isn't it?

There isn't any other person you'd rather take that leap with, you realized. In the few months you knew Chris, he already managed to become one of your favorite people in the entire world. You trusted him, cared about him, more than you'd let yourself realize up until now. And like he said, not exploring that would make you a coward. And you're not.

You took a deep breath. Chris gave you the time you needed, simply looking at you softly.

"I haven't dated anyone in a while. I might be rusty," you chuckled finally.

"I'm willing to take those odds," he smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, a grin slowly making its way onto your face. "If there's anyone I would do this with, it's you," you admitted softly.

He grinned, getting up from his chair and extending his hand out to you, and you accepted. Gently, he pulled you up on your feet, using his momentum to bring you to stand closer to him and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Slowly, you two inched closer, until, finally, his lips were on yours.

There weren't fireworks, or butterflies. There was just this moment, right here, right now. No doubts, or hesitations, it was peaceful. It felt right.

This moment was all you could ever ask for. All you'd ever need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You look so beautiful in the mornings," Chris murmured, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"You too. Happy birthday," You whispered back, weaving your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck. He hummed in response, and you giggled, feeling it tickling your neck.

You laid there for a while more, just basking in each other's company. But when you looked at the clock, you started nudging Chris away from you. "We should get up," you said softly, "We have a party to prepare for."

"The party's not until the evening," he whined, "Stay in bed," he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.

You ended up leaving the bed at noon, eating a big lunch before tidying up for the party. A few minutes later, you slipped away, to set up your surprise.

"Hey Chris?" you called from the other room, "Can you just come over here for a second?"

"Coming!"

He entered to find you and Dodger in matching little party hats, and you were holding one out for him too.

"Wow!" he burst into laughter, putting the party hat on his head. "What's all this for?"

"I thought we should celebrate a little before the guests arrive," you shrugged. "And, you know, Dodger looks so cute in that little hat."

"He does," Chris cooed. "How did you manage to put it on him? He would never let me put anything."

"Well, he just likes me more," you smirked. Chris scoffed amusedly. "Okay fine," you rolled your eyes, "I may have bribed him with a treat."

Dodger's ears perked up at the word and you both laughed at the suddenly interested dog.

"I shouldn't have said that," you giggled.

"Probably," he agreed. "Thank you," you put his arm on the small of your back, nudging you closer to his side.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," you smiled, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss, but before it could get any further Dodger was barking and putting his front paws on the both of you.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get jealous. We love you too," you and Chris laughed, petting his head affectionately.

Honestly that day was a perfectly normal day for you and Chris. Being in love for the two of you didn't mean big highs and lows. You had your moments, but most of the time, it was just this peaceful bliss.

Later that night, the party was already in full swing. You and Chris separated from each other at some point, but you were making the rounds, so you knew sooner or later you'd meet up again.

In the small crowd, it was easy to spot your friends, sitting with the same group they did last year. You smiled to yourself, going up and greeting everyone warmly.

"How's everyone doing?" you asked, sitting down for a moment.

There was a chorus of "fine"s and "good"s before the conversation continued. You joined in, talking to your friends and catching up with the other group.

"Hey," Chris' voice was suddenly next to you. He came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, talking softly next to your ear. "I'm gonna get myself another beer. You want anything as well?"

"Um, yeah. Can you bring me one too?"

"Sure," he smiled.

You tilted your head so you could reach and kiss his cheek, "Thanks."

As he walked away, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group, only to find them all looking at you with knowing grins.

"I thought you didn't do romance," said the woman you had spoken to last year, a teasing smile on her face.

"I didn't. I guess I changed my mind," you smiled softly, watching Chris’ back as he dissappeared into the kitchen.

Maybe romance wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

did you catch the three references? tell me:)) i hope you like it, and if you stuck through this entire story, thank you so so much for reading!! as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts, and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself<3 happy chris day!!

special shoutout for @animnerd who gave me some motivation when i needed it<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian

Chris & co. taglist: @patzammit

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #happy birthday chris evans

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catty-words · 3 years

Text

on the school dance fallout or, a thorough examination of the boys’ apologies to julie

full disclosure, i used to take serious issue with 1.06 for what it did to julie’s righteous anger in light of the boys letting her down, and my gripes haven’t fully gone away. but i have spent some time thinking on the fallout since my first (several) viewing(s) of the show and i finally noticed some emotionally nuanced storytelling that i needed time to come to appreciate. so, if you’ll indulge me another gif-filled meta post...

everyone knows that a good apology demonstrates an understanding of how you wronged the person you’re apologizing to, otherwise the words i’m sorry end up being fairly empty. and luckily for the boys, julie does a good job of immediately and effectively communicating her hurt feelings:

the first part is directed at luke specifically as her main co-writer, while the rest is about how all three of them let her down. it couldn’t be more clear that the reason she’s so betrayed is that a) they’ve made her feel like julie and the phantoms is less important to them than sunset curve and b) they’ve failed to consider her point of view or empathize with how important the show was to her.

which is why singing sorry a bunch of times, though charming, leaves her unmoved. and it’s why booking another gig actually makes her angrier. a gig the boys have deemed important enough to show up for is not a present or an olive branch to her, it’s a slap in the face. and if the boys had actually been paying attention to what she’d said the night of the dance, they could have anticipated her reaction.

but they clearly haven’t listened, so they haven’t learned how to do better or make things right. which is why this is such an important beat in the scene in the studio:

hounding julie to rejoin the band, even with such nice sentiments as “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us since we became ghosts”, does nothing to address how undervalued julie feels getting stood up because, as she points out above, their ability to do what they love is very limited without her. that makes her a powerful and essential member of the band, but it doesn’t prove that they care about her, julie, the person. and you can see in the reaction shot how the truth of her words lands for all of them.

their remorseful silence gives julie the opportunity to reiterate one of the points she made the night before, and it’s important to note which part of her hurt feelings she chooses to revisit.

the fact that they made the choice to pay more attention to their old music in spite of the music they were creating together is the thing that hurt her feelings the most. and, of course, her open hostility and her imagined reasons for why the boys picked sunset curve over julie and the phantoms (i.e. selfishness) puts luke on the defensive and ends with everyone leaving the scene dissatisfied.

great! okay, so here’s the part that’s bugged in the past (and the present, just. a little less so.) — in their attempt to deescalate the situation, alex and reggie give julie, and the audience, the all-important luke backstory. but like asking julie to rejoin the band with a shinier gig than a school dance flies in the face of actually making amends, so, too, does asking julie to empathize with luke’s emotional journey when the boys failed to take julie’s into account when they hurt her. only this time, it works as an olive branch.

now, i’m not saying that julie’s acting out of character in being sympathetic to luke’s pain, quite the opposite is the case. and i’m also not saying it’s bad that she does find sympathy for his situation — again, i’d argue that the opposite is true. it’s just, at the same time, it’s not a good look to force aside the young woman of color’s hurt in service of the white dude who hurt her feelings in the first place’s tragic backstory. the narrative is asking julie not to be mad at the choices luke made in the past two episodes because he’s really sad, actually.

and sure that’s an ungracious read of the moment, but i stand by the fact that it’s present in the text of the episode all the same, even with a little more nuance than i’m currently giving it credit for.

all that being said, alex and reggie do a bit to win back this highly insensitive maneuver with another stab at an apology.

alex addresses julie’s comment about them knowing “how tough it’s been for her to play” by reiterating that not showing up let her down and they get that that’s a crappy way to feel, while reggie takes a crack at julie’s “our songs were good” by emphasizing that they all love being in a band and making music with her. it’s a slight step up from their sorry in the garage, but not a complete fix because they’re all still sitting with the fact that they need julie to make the most of their music and how that complicates their declarations of loyalty.

the thing that makes this attempt at reconciliation different than those prior, of course, is this line:

the acknowledgement that things haven’t been fixed + the politeness + the implication that they’re willing to put in the time to earn her trust back so long as she lets them makes the apology a good enough one to accept. well, that, and:

one gets the sense that if rose could actually speak to julie in that moment, she’d be reminding her the value of grace. and, of course, we know that this also serves as a reminder to julie that good things are fleeting, loss is around every corner, and holding close what you care about is important. so she does just that by letting go of her (righteous, righteous) anger and reuniting the band.

still, even though alex and reggie have had their chance to make amends, luke doesn’t get the same moment to show he’s actually paid attention to julie’s needs in 1.06. so, naturally, he starts immediately in their first scene together in 1.07.

i mentioned in my exhaustive list for “finally free” that julie picking a sunset curve song for their reunion number is a lovely, understated way for her acknowledge luke’s lost musical legacy, and i have similar feelings about the fact that luke suggests “edge of great” for their follow-up gig. it’s his first step in proving to her that he does care about the music they’ve written together with actions instead of empty apologies and misguided gestures.

by the end of the episode, though, the three of them take a step back (reggie gets points for his being, like, half a step) when they learn that, in addition to letting down julie, one of the consequences of their night chasing revenge is a ticking clock on their existence.

though i understand the urge to protect julie from the alarming news that their power is going out, there’s also a lot of selfishness behind the decision. julie loses them in the end no matter what, but lying to her about it and planning to leave without an explanation shows a disregard for her emotional journey in a similar way standing her up did. in fact, this plan is basically to stand her up for eternity. not cool, guys.

naturally, since it’s luke who’s the one proposing the terrible plan and it’s luke who never officially demonstrated his understanding of how he hurt julie’s feelings by not showing up when it mattered, it’s fitting that he’s suddenly more in tune with his own feelings. and, with that, comes a new awareness of how his and julie’s feelings interact, starting with this moment in 1.08.

you can see his conflict over her declaration. she’s worried without knowing just how much there is to be worried about, and that makes him sad because it’s confirmation of the fact that he’s important to her. that losing him will mean a lot of pain for her. but instead of cluing her in, he makes a conscious choice to continue withholding the information of his imminent departure. and maybe it’s such a weak deflection because he’s already starting to come to terms with how unfair he’s being to her, but even so, he’s not being a good friend when julie is showing up for him in big, unexpected ways he’d never even thought to ask for.

and again, here —

— just after they’ve acknowledged that there’s a something and not a nothing between them, you can see him sober with the thought that she doesn’t know they’re about to lose each other. but it’s still not enough to move him to share. maybe because he prefers that she live with the possibility of that something when he no longer can, maybe because he’s too caught up in his own feelings about how crappy this hand they’ve been dealt by the universe is. but in any case, he keeps tight-lipped.

UNTIL.

it’s seeing her excited about a future their music can’t have that finally pushes him into coming clean. and i love how subtly this demonstrates that he has been paying attention, actually, and he knows that what hurt julie the most was the feeling that their music took a backseat to his past. if he crosses over without telling her the whole, ugly truth about the mistake he made by standing her up, then he crosses over stuck in that mistake. because part of that whole, ugly truth is the beautiful realization that no music is worth making, julie, if we’re not making it with you. and he’s not quite at that particular aspect of his truth yet — he still has to experience the what if of caleb’s club to be able to make the declaration with the conviction he does — but when he finally does tell her that and means it, she’s given the catharsis she’s needed since the dance. because he’s backing up his apology with action (i.e. being willing to literally no longer exist instead of making music with someone else) and providing her with the same consideration she showed him when she rejoined the band because his loss felt more important than her anger. and reaching that level of give and take in their relationship, physically represented in their hug, finally sets them free.

so, yes. even though 1.06 is clunky and a little tasteless at times, i can acknowledge that the story manages to win any missteps back. quite poetically, honestly. all’s forgiven.

#julie and the phantoms #jatpedit #jatp meta #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #gifs by catty #long post #am i disappointed with myself for not being able to include any gifs from 1.09 because i reached the limit already #yes. absolutely.#should i have split this post into two parts to fit it all?#maybe so #will i do anything about it?#obviously not #FATED BANDMATES #melody & words #together my cats can queue anything

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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More Amazing People I Want to Share This With :)

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #reid fanfiction

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

Text

Saul Silva/Farah x Student!reader - wild card

Will there be a part two of wild card? Wanna know why Silva and Dowling are Readers guardians or whatever they are for R. - Anon💜

Part two:

Another day and another detention and this time Farah knew better then to turn her back on you, so she kept a close eye on you as you swung back from your chair.

Silva stood at the door to make sure you wouldn’t run through it.

“You’re going to fall.” He said.

You turned your head to look at him and gave him a wide grin.

“Yeah but you’ll fix me up so it’s okay.”

“I’ll just leave you there.”

“Ouch okay. And I thought we were friends.” You pouted.

He rolled his eyes and you set your chair back on the ground the way it was supposed to be and stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

Padded over to Farah’s desk, you looked down at the papers she was grading and she looked up at you.

“What’s for dinner?”

“You’re making it so I have absolutely no idea.”

You blinked.

“Crap I completely forget I was cooking today.”

“Ah, none of that language thank you.”

You beamed at her and walked back over to your desk, grabbing your homework you brought it over to her and turned your attention to Silva.

“Can you… do a backflip?” You asked.

He blinked in confusion.

“Can I do a backflip?”

“Yeah, can you?”

“I can do a front flip.”

He shuffled from the door and set his sword aside and took a deep breath as he rolled his shoulders.

“Please stop encouraging this.” Farah sighed.

“It’s just a harmless flip, it’s fine.”

He bounced on the balls of his feet a few times before he jumped and completed his front flip and you cheered.

Silva grinned and picked his sword back up and pointed it at you.

“Can you do a backflip?”

You pushed some of the desks aside and checked your spacing before looking at him and you jumped backwards, doing a flip and landing a little unsteady on your feet.

You gave a small bow and stood back up as you grinned at them.

The door was opened and Professor Harvey came in looking a bit anxious.

“Uhm, sorry. There’s a group of people here looking for you three.”

You shared a look with the two teachers and you left your stuff by Farah’s desk as you followed the two of them out.

Professor Harvey led the way, you behind him and Farah and Silva behind you as you all made your way to the front of the school.

You stepped through the doors and you immediately frowned when you saw who was standing there and you crossed your arms.

“What the hell do you want?” You asked.

“You. Let’s go, we’re leaving.”

The man stepped forward, and he was stopped by Silva pointing his sword at him.

“She’s not going anywhere with you. We made this clear.”

“That’s my daughter!”

You rolled your eyes.

“You lost the right to call me that when you dumped me in the forest behind Alfea just because my magic didn’t show early enough.”

“We’re still blood.” Your dad hissed.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not authorised to remove (Y/N) from the school premises.”

“She is coming back to the village.” A woman hissed.

You looked at her and you pointed at her.

“You get no say in this, for a mother you’re sure as hell crappy at it.”

“We have no use for those born without magic! Now you have magic you are to return immediately.” She huffed.

You shook your head.

“That’s not my home.”

“It is your home.” Your dad growled.

He took a step forward, as did the small ground and Farah and Silva both stepped in front of you.

Farah reached her hand behind her, and you gripped her hand, and Silva did the same thing, so you took his hand as well.

“I’m sorry, but we’re are her legal guardians now. What choices need to be made on her behalf will be made by us.” Farah said calmly.

“You’re not her mother!”

You leg go of their hands and stepped in front of them.

A lot of the students had come to see what was going on, and you glared at the small group.

“She is my mum! Whether you like it or not! Farah is my mum! She’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a mum! Same with Saul! He’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a dad!”

You stood in front of them and crossed your arms over your chest and they both placed a hand on your shoulders.

“They found me, took me in. Cared for me! You didn’t do shit! You left me there to die because you thought I was weak!”

“Family is about blood!” Your mother yelled.

“They are my blood! Alfea is my blood!” You roared.

Your birth patents stared at you and you stared back.

“They are my parents, you’re just some people who created me. They are the people who love me, even though I cause more trouble then I’m worth, they love even though I get into more fights then I can count. They love me for all my little flaws. You saw one flaw and decided I wasn’t worth the time of day.”

You glared harshly at them.

“Don’t you ever come back here again, or I’ll get rid of you myself.” You growled.

Pushing past Farah and Silva who called for you to stop, you stormed away.

Riven, Sky and Terra and her friends followed you.

River grabbed your arm to make you stop and you swung around to punch him and he stumbled a little, rubbing his face.

“You’re angry, I get it. Okay? I get that you’re angry, but it’s okay.” He said.

“They had no right coming here!” You yelled.

“We know. We know.” Terra said softly.

You looked at her, and she took your hand, giving it a small squeeze and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

“I just.. I need to be alone. Sorry Riven.”

You quickly left and they all shared a look.

You had hit riven for loads of different reasons, even if he was your best friend you’d hit him loads of times but never had you apologised for it.

You didn’t bother to grab your bag, you simply went straight to your dorm, to the window and opened it.

Climbing out, you shuffled across to the ledge and climbed up, sitting on the flat part of the school roof as you looked over the school grounds.

It wasn’t long until you heard the sound of people climbing up with you.

“I said I needed to be alone, get lost.”

“It’s getting harder to get up here.” Farah chuckled.

You looked over and got up to help Silva help her up on the roof before you went and sat back down.

“Sorry I didn’t know it was you..”

They both sat down on either side of you.

“How’re you feeling?” Silva asked softly.

You shrugged a little and sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think they’d ever realise I was still alive..” you mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologise (Y/N). We knew what we were getting into when we took you in.” Farah said gently.

You just nodded your head and she sighed, taking your hand in hers to hold it softly.

“You did well back than. We’re proud of you.” She smiled.

Silva took your other hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to worry about ever going back there.” He said.

You nodded your head again, and looked between them both.

“I meant what I said back there. You two are my parents. You’re my mum and dad.”

“We know.” Farah smiled.

“And you’re our daughter, and we love you. Flaws and all.” Silva said.

You held both of their hands tightly.

“I love you guys too.”

#fate the winx saga #fate the winx saga x you #fate the winx saga imagine #fate the winx saga x reader #saul silva #saul silva x reader #saul silva imagine #saul silva x you #farah Dowling #farah dowling x you #farah dowling x reader #farah Dowling imagine

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keijislove · 3 years

Text

I’ll be there: Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: WARNING: Slight mention of PTSD, insecurity, basically Bucky not realising what a blessing to humanity he is.

Screams.

They erupted in an instant as the sound of glass shattering pierced the otherwise peaceful night. Screams were all he’d ever known. Screams sounded like music to his ears. It was just a small snippet of what people really deserved after they dared to show their faces in public, knowing the pain they had caused to this world.

Amidst the endless assassins, stood a certain soldier with eyes as dark as his name, hair long and unkempt about his face, and two arms – one regular, which clutched a gun that seemed to fire itself – and the other, made of vibranium, which was busy throttling a man.

The winter soldier.

That name commanded fear. Fear of being killed, knowing that the monster HYDRA had created didn’t have enough human in him to feel emotions like pity or regret.

Bloodlust.

That was all that James Buchanan Barnes had ever known.

“Please, please not my son!” a woman cried, watching tearfully as the winter soldier fought an urge to scoff.

Not caring in the least, he pointed the gun at a little boy of nearly seven years of age and smirked beneath his mask.

The trigger was pulled, deaf to the cries and bloodcurdling screams of the boy’s mother. A gunshot pierced through the hall filled with screams. A bullet shot towards the tiny, unsuspecting boy, reaching to hit him squarely in the head –

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bucky screamed, sitting up straight.

He looked around. Nobody was there, he was alone. Like he’d always been.

Panting slightly, he looked around, fumbling for the water jug and he poured himself a glass before taking a sip – his hands shaking so badly that the quantity of spilt water was greater than that he drank.

“Just a nightmare,” he feverishly muttered to himself, “No – no big deal, nightmare.”

His lies sounded so untruthful, even Bucky had to scoff at himself.

Just a nightmare.

If he didn’t understand himself at times, who could?

It was almost foolish to admit it, but Bucky felt something he had no way to overcome. Lonely.

His ‘friends’ were leading important lives, either with family or training at the Avengers compound, wanting to make a difference. Yet, here he sat, feeling useless.

He wanted a purpose in life – a gaping hole in his chest nothing seemed to be able to fill. Apparently, the gods had heard his prayer, for that day was one he treasured most in all of his memories.

-----

“This is the last time I’m working the night shift!” you furiously exclaimed to Leah who just shrugged, saying, “It’s not me who decides the shifts.”

“Meh, well,” you admitted guiltily, “You have a point. But you’re the only I can rant to about this prison.”

“Well, job’s a job, isn’t it?” Leah murmured.

“I guess so.”

The door of the restaurant flew open as somebody walked inside. You didn’t bother to look up, you had way to much experience and hate for this job to care who wanted to eat what.

“Welcome, I am Y/N L/N, just name whatever you want, I’m sure we have it in here and if we don’t, I’m sorry but that’s not my fault and I have been working long hours since weeks and would appreciate a little customer cooperation to ensure the safety of my mental health, okay? What do you want?” you had never talked this way to a customer before – you were known to be a polite employee, but today, you just lost your temper with life.

Receiving silence from the figure that had stopped in front of you, you looked up questioningly and your mind went blank for a second. Standing there was literal eye candy material who looked confused and slightly alarmed. You flushed – great job scaring away a finally nice guy, Y/N.

“Sorry,” you sighed after a while of staring, “Not in the greatest mood these days.”

“I can see that,” the stranger chuckled despite himself, “Rough day?”

“Month,” you corrected moodily, “What can I get you?”

“Meh, the usual, some beer please,” he said.

“Right,” you nodded, turning around, pulling faces at yourself for being so embarrassing. You blindly groped for a bottle and thrust it his way, saying, “Glass?”

“No thanks,” he waved off, uncorking the bottle and downing it, “I’m Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of you,” you frowned.

Bucky’s heart dropped into the floors below. Of course you had heard of him. Of the countless, ruthless murders he had performed.

“You’re – that guy, right? Steve Rogers’ best friend?” you asked, “My condolences,” you added quickly.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “That’s me.”

“I can see you’ve been through a rough life,” you remarked causally.

“You have no idea.”

And so, Bucky began visiting your bar regularly – a feat that made your shifts more enjoyable and something to look forward to in your mundane life. Bucky understood what a stressful job could be – he felt that if he couldn’t help himself, he’d at least try to help you.

After around a month of knowing him, you decided to do something you had been gathering the balls for for weeks

As soon as you finished your night shift, you spoke, “Can I walk home with you? It’s late – and the night sort of scares me. My house a few blocks away from yours.”

You crossed your fingers and toes behind your back.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Bucky said, “I wouldn’t want you to walk alone anyway.”

Your heart rose – this was a good sign.

You grabbed your coat and threw it on, shivering slightly as both of you made your way out. You locked the door behind you and placed the keys in your pocket as you resumed walking.

“So,” you began, “How’s life going on for you?”

“Crappy, mostly,” Bucky shrugged, “I mean – there’s nothing to do. I just sit around all day, come to your bar, go home, and sit around again.”

“Sounds like a nice life,” you sighed, “I wish I had some peace. I’d trade with you any day.”

This declaration made him laugh.

Now or never, Y/N, you wimp! Do it! Ask him out!

“Hey, listen, Bucky, I was wondering,” you began as he hummed in response, “Uh... we’ve known each other for some time now... don’t take this the wrong way, but I... really, really like you.”

Bucky felt his heart drop again – this was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

“Y/N...” he began.

“It’s okay, you might not feel the same,” you hurriedly said, swallowing back a few overcoming tears.

“No, Y/N, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky assured you, “I really like you too – but are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

“Thought what – what are you talking about?” you asked, nonplussed.

“I’m just saying – think about it,” Bucky began, “You – you’d be throwing away your future – I don’t want to do that to you. You’re a smart, beautiful woman, and you honestly deserve so much better! I can’t make you happy – I can’t make myself happy, I don’t know anything about commitment. I can’t give you children or a family – and the people who know of my past – almost everyone – will look down on you, I don’t want you to have that burden. I’m – a monster, Y/N, you can’t –”

“Stop,” you whispered, shaking your head, “Stop doing this to yourself. Who on Earth – Bucky, you are not a monster. I would never think like that – and it’s okay if you can’t give me a family – all I want is you. Just you.”

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting the most important part,” Bucky whispered, “I’m dangerous. I can’t trust my own mind. Trigger words, remember? Even if I’m not a killer anymore, I’ve made a lot of enemies – I don’t want anyone to use you to get to me.”

“What if I don’t care?” you asked angrily, “Let them try. And your trigger words – nice try, Bucky, you wanna be more careful what you tell others about your past. I know that that problem was taken care of years ago. You’re jut scared to open up.”

“I get nightmares....” Bucky’s voice trailed off in a feeble attempt to coax you to change your mind.

“And now you’ll have someone to calm you down next to you,” you firmly stated.

Bucky sighed, “Coffee shop down the street, tomorrow, noon.”

“Don’t you dare be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

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mickeyhenrysgf · 3 years

Text

Fuck, Marry, Kill (part 2)

Summary: After kissing your dad’s co-worker at a party, the two of you meet again and discuss the events.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: age gap (reader is in college) , fingering, handjob, use of the word daddy, dirty talk

part 1

One week. No text message. Nothing.

No one knew about the events that spiraled from last week’s party. However, the attitude that you presented told another story. You were grumpy, annoyed, and even sad... And you hated it. It was Bucky’s fault. You needed to talk to him.

That’s how you found yourself sat in your dad’s office, doing meaningless paper work for him. You somehow convinced your parents that your strange attitude was due to the fact that you hated being indoors all day since coming home from college. You needed a new “scenery”. The great scenery of your father’s office.

“I’m not going to be able to drive you home...” your father’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You watched as your father checked his watch. “Actually, Barnes shift ends now, I’m sure he can drive you home.” Your head shot up from your desk and your back straightened. It was the last thing you wanted to hear your father say.

“I’ll call him into the office...” Your father quickly went to dial a number to connect to Bucky’s office. He spoke quietly to Bucky’s secretary. You swallowed thickly, tidying up your area, waiting for Bucky’s arrival as the minutes went by. Why would he even agree? He’s been ignoring you for days.

“Hey, is everything alright Mr. L/N” Bucky’s head stuck into the room as his eyes slightly widened at the sight of you. You quickly locked eyes with him. He scratched the back of his neck before turning his attention back to your father.

“Y/N decided to tag along today but I’m staying late. Think you could take her home for me—?”

Your father looked up from his paperwork. Bucky stuffed his hands awkwardly in his pockets and nodded.

“Y-yeah, of course...” his voice cracked lightly but he cleared it up with a cough.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Your name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, your father didn’t even feel the tension happening underneath.

Bucky leaned against the doorway, his eyes wandered back to yours. He took in your figure shamelessly. The short skirt and blouse already creating an uncomfortable situation for him. You nodded meekly, waving goodbye to your father as you followed Bucky out the room.

As you headed towards the elevator, you mentally cursed yourself. Calm down. What’s the worst that could happen? If it’s awkward, you’ll just take an Uber.

Bucky’s eyes lightly glanced over you as he pressed the elevator button. The two of you were alone for the first time. You wanted him to say something. Anything but, it was silent. The only thing heard was the crappy elevator’s holiday music. Once the elevator dinged, Bucky walked out.

Your legs wobbled slightly, as you followed him.

Bucky walked towards his car and opened the passenger door for you. You looked up at him, his expression on his face was vague. You quickly slid into the car as Bucky closed it and rounded the car to the driver’s seat. The awkward silence was dawning.

“So... are we going to talk about what happened?” You broke the ice first and Bucky sighed lightly, fumbling with the car keys in his hands.

“I’d rather not.”

“You never texted me back—! Are you mad at me?” You slightly yelled, immediately becoming embarrassed by the sudden change in your voice.

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and raised his hands up in defense. His face softening as he looked at you.

“Come on, Y/N I’m not mad at you. I can never be mad at you— but you have to know why I didn’t text you.”

“We kissed—“

Bucky stopped you right there. His hands clutched his keys to turn on the ignition which in return overpowered your low voice. His arm stretched out over your seat, as he pulled out of the parking spot and headed onto the road.

He spoke lowly. “And that’s never going to happen again.”

Of course, he would fucking said that.

Bucky had been calling the shots for one week. But, It was your turn now.

“Yeah, right” You scoffed, turning your body to face towards him. You folded your arms, as you stared him down. He drove with one hand and then turned his head slightly at you. He chuckled lightly at your ‘annoyed’ face.

To him, you looked adorable. He missed you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He casually lit a cigarette as the car stopped at a red light. You watched as his teeth wrapped around the substance inhaling for some time and then blowing it out. He knew exactly what he was doing.

On the other end of Bucky’s poised face, however, was a man who was just as afraid as you. Anxious. It’s the reason why he never texted you back. He thought about you each and everyday. Playing different scenarios in his head. Each one never forming a happy outcome for the both of you.

“What I’m trying to say is you can’t just pretend like nothing ever happened, Bucky. Ignoring me for one week is extremely childish. I’m the one in college, not you. God, I should of known all men are the same, doesn’t matter their age-”

You rolled your eyes, finally looking out the window. As you turned your head, you noticed that Bucky was driving in a different from your house.

Bucky listened to you as he drove silently down the road recalling the moments from the past week.

He tried to push away these new feelings for you. Bucky even invited a random girl he met back to his place. But, for the first time, he couldn’t even get hard. It was embarrassing.

“That’s a new one! What the hell is going on with you? Do I have to take you the doctor? Like, I know you’re old but you’re not THAT old“ Sam chuckled lightly as he took a sip of his beer at Bucky’s house.

“Shut up, punk. You just don’t understand” Bucky trailed off, cringing as he remembered his date storming out of his place.

“This is not the way to my house.”

“I know that” You watched the road become smaller and the lanes turn into empty masses of land. Eventually he pulled into a secluded place which captured the view of the city.

He planned on taking you here sometime this week but the opportunity already granted itself. It was supposed to be a talk where you’d both promise to forget about the night of the party. Go back to how everything was, but he was weaker than he thought.

He couldn’t push his feelings away anymore.

“You’re right...” he mumbled, parking the car and burning the cigarette against the ashtray. He sighed softly before looking at you. It was the first time in a week since he was able to take in all of your features.

“What?”

C‘mere” his hands slid across the seat and patted it lightly, your tongue awkwardly fiddled against your mouth. You unhook your seatbelt and scooted over. The two of your staring at one another. His eyes flickered down to your lips.

Before you could ask him what he meant, Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips gently against yours. It was sweet and gentle at first. Almost, like he was trying to say sorry. But, It didn’t take any time until the kiss turned into a full blown make-out session. Your hands finding their way into his hair as he cupped your face, his tongue exploring your mouth. He missed this. You missed this. It was intoxicating.

Your hand trailed down his chest until they stopped at his jeans, surprisingly a bulge forming against his jeans. You pulled away breathlessly, his eyes half lidded filled with a new found happiness staring back at you.

“Do you want this?” He mumbled.

Of course you wanted this. It’s been one whole week of waiting for a response. You weren’t going to back out now.

“I do...”

“Then come back here, baby...”

The name sent goosebumps down your spine. He grabbed your hand and brought it back to his budge. You squeezed it lightly causing him to groan. His lips pressed soft kisses onto your neck as his hands began to unzip your jeans and tug them until your panties was exposed to him.

His fingers pressed against your panties and he licked his lips. “You’re soaking... is this for me?” You whimpered, working to take off his jeans. He helped you by tugging them past his ass. The size from his outline startling you a bit. You courageously leaned down and pressed a kiss against his boxers.

Bucky sucked in a breath before pulling you back by your hair. You whined lightly but as his fingers rubbed you through your panties, you quickly got the memo.

“If we do that, I don’t think you’ll get home before your father. That can wait another time, baby, like when you’re on my bed or my couch. ” he winked. So, he wanted this to become a reoccurrence..

As Bucky pulled his cock out, your breath hitched at the sight. It was a shame he wouldn’t let you wrap your mouth around it.

“You’re so big” you blurted, wrapping your hand around his shaft. He sucked in his bottom lip before tugging your panties down, wasting no time to tease your folds. His middle finger circled your opening before collecting the wetness and sucking it off his finger. As he did this, his eyes bored into yours. The action alone could make you cum.

“And you taste sweet. God, can’t wait until I can eat this pretty pussy”

“I’m sure it will be sooner than you think, daddy”

With the amount of nerves you had, you couldn’t control that mouth of yours. Blurting out every thought was your last resort Hopefully, he didn’t mind your new nickname for him.. But, as you looked up from pumping Bucky’s cock, a smirk grew on his face as so did small grunts fall from his mouth.

You tried to cover up your nerves by continuing to pleasure the man you had a crush on for the longest. You leaned down and spat on his cock, the salvia dribbling down to create a sort of lube. Your hand quickly pumping his shaft and massaging his balls.

“What was that you called me, pretty girl?” Bucky hissed from your actions as his thumb rubbed your clit at a pleasurable pace, his middle finger ready to fuck you.

“Daddy...” you moaned.

“Shit— already calling me daddy... I don’t think your father is going to like that” He teased.

“You want daddy to finger this pretty pussy. Make you cum... hmm?” Bucky grunted in your ear which made you whimper as his fingers thrusted into you with one swift movement, his other hand holding onto your hips.

“Feels so good!” You bucked into his hand, and Bucky stared down at the scene in front of him. He never knew he could be so turned on from your small hand stroking him and your moans. His head already thrown back against the chair as he thrusted a second finger into you.

“You’re clenching, baby... already close, huh?” His fingers thrusted faster, as his palm collided with your clit. He pulled your body closer as he lips sucked onto your neck. You could start to feel Bucky twitch within your hand, signaling he was not too far either. He started to take the lead and thrust into your hand.

“God, why didn’t we do this sooner?” He hummed against your skin, his lips continued to attack your skin. A big bruise would sure form by tomorrow. Good thing, you just brought a new concealer. His fingers curled inside you, hitting the sweet spot that only one of your ex’s could ever find.

“Agh—Bucky... think I’m close—“ you played with his balls in an effort to get him to release at the same time with you. Your release hurrying by the second.

“Yeah, baby. I’m right with you. Let go-“ your mouth hung open as the wave of pleasure took over your body. Bucky slipped his tongue in your mouth, as his fingers pumped you through your high. His cock thrusted into your hand wildly, as he pulled away slightly.

“Fuck, Y/N!!” With one shout, Bucky was a goner, his seed shooting against your mound. You bit your lip at the sight in front of you, your hands going to his shoulders. For some reason, you needed to be close to him, preferably wrapped in his arms.

As exhausted as Bucky was he hooked his arms under your legs and settled you on his lap. You smiled, falling into the crook of his neck. The two of you panting in a state of bliss. He pulled some of your hair away, to leave feather light kisses on your neck and shoulder.

His hands trailed up your body until they cupped your face. You bit your lip staring at the man who was only a few inches away from you.

“I’m sorry for not texting you. I was thinking...”

“You were thinking.” You mimicked back raising your eyebrow, already frowning at his answer. He chuckled softly at your face, shaking his head before kissing your nose to reassure you that it was going to be good answer. You scrunched your nose lightly, playing with the hair on his neck.

“Yes. About us.” He explained.

“Go on...”

He tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ear before speaking. “I’m willing to make this work, if you are.” You smiled at his words.

“I want this to work but what about my parents...” you mumbled slightly, the most important factor barely being discussed.

He stroked your cheek and sighed. “Well, baby, we can tell them when we are ready.”

“There’s no need to rush, don’t you think I should take you out on a few dates first to see if you actually like me” he said playfully which made you giggle. Okay, he had a point.

“But, how will I be able to see you all the time without them being ya- know.. suspicious?” He smirked slightly, already having an answer for that.

“I do need a new secretary...”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader smut

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