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#sorry if anyone already made my joke but it entered my mind and I simply /had/ to post it
strawberrysapphocake · 9 months
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Okay but who wore it better though?
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milkywayhou · 3 months
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20 and 10 for the asks <3 <3
HEY TORTA!! <3 <3
GASPP I'M GLAD YOU'RE ASKING ABOUT HER HAHAH. SORRY IF I'M TAKE LONG TIME TO ANSWER IT! :((
10.What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with her?
Ohh boy. You wouldn't believe how much Alternative Universe I made for her. A few AU I remember is her original Universe - Which she was an AI Android with grey motivation and past, and the setting was in post-apocalyptic world where half of the living creature on earth was dead after some incidents. And I kinda used her as an character in my Harry Potter roleplay (she is a villain-)
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I'm also currently working on my own AU with her and König as the character hehe.
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The first one I guess you already know ;)
An immortal necromancer with her undead knight. This one was inspired by Mili song "Ga1ahad and Scientific Witchery"
So I can see you again
So I can kill you again -both
My brains accelerate -Knight
And I'll -Witch Reassemble you again -both
I appreciate your thoughts
But you've given me too much to tolerate -Knight
I've done so much for you
But you treat me this way -Witch
===
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For the second AU is kinda dark (?) I never finished the plot and it was inspired by x0o0x song "冥路"
The plot is about a youtuber/influencer that like to visit abandonment place and she went into a rural area to document an old left base even though there's so much rumour about many people get disappear after they visit that building.
I have a rough scenario about this in my note haha, but i guess I'll still change it later
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The crumbling ruins of the old military base had long been a subject of rumor and mystery in the remote countryside. Some said it was haunted by ghosts of fallen soldiers. Others claimed a feral beast lurked within, preying on trespassers.
Only the bravest of explorers dared venture through the rusting gates under cover of night. None who entered were ever seen again.
As a streamer, You had made a name for yourself documenting adventures through allegedly haunted locations. When word of the abandoned base reached you, you simply had to investigate. Alone and after sunset, you slipped into the decrepit compound, camera rolling as you narrated in hushed tones.
The first few buildings revealed nothing but dust and debris. As You rounded a dark corner, a figure emerged from the shadows - a tall, broad man in tattered military fatigues, eyeing your camera with a hollow gaze.
"Hello...I didn't expect to find anyone out here. I'm just exploring, I'll be on my way--"
He seized your wrist in an iron grip. Close up, you noticed scars criss-crossing his stubbled face, and something feral in his deadened eyes.
"No one trespasses here. You'll stay." His voice rasped as if disused. Your heart raced, trying to calmly reason with the unstable veteran. But he merely dragged you deeper into the ruins, to a cellar door opening with a rusty squeal.
Down the creaking stairs, You glimpsed your end - a grimy room filled with remnants of those who came before. Your streaming career would end here, in this hell of a madman's making. Unless you could somehow find a way to escape...or turn the tables on your captor
Don't worry, I'll take care of you-
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20.Does she have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does she manifest?
Having lost so much control over life's cruelties, Snow guarded jealously what few joys remained in her tattered grasp.
Seeing peers bond closer stirred resentment's bitter tang, irrational logic insisting such intimacy mocked her inability to let down walls. She masked unease through charming jabs, joking any togetherness risked "stealing" one another from her orbit alone.
Less obvious, loneliness twisted innocent acts into perceived betrayals. If comrades gathered without her, paranoid logic conjured conspiracies against fractured minds too tired to fight shadows alone. Jealousy twisted friendships strained by her own detachment into fresh grudges deepening already cavernous isolation.
But she will still outwardly smiled through turmoil reminding she chose this path herself through walls erected in desperation's bid for survival this far. Envy remained her dirty secret, lest it brand weakness compromising years constructing impenetrable facades of resilience and control leaving none suspecting festering loneliness beneath.
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ellekhen · 5 months
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Hand, Hearth, and Home
Chapter 1 - A Warding Bond
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Summary
“I… envy you,” Astarion admits. “In your short life, you already seem to have had your share of… experiences,” he smirks at him suggestively for a fleeting moment. “And much of it seems to have been… enjoyable. Willing.” He flourishes a hand. “You know what I mean.”
Church smiles wistfully. “I try my best, but it hasn’t all been perfect. I’ve had my share of… mistakes.” His mouth twists a little.
“I certainly hope I’m not one of them,” Astarion half-heartedly jokes.
Church looks at him earnestly.
“No,” he says softly. “You’re not.”
Astarion flounders for a moment at that.
When Church loves, he loves with the intensity of the sun. His childhood friends know this well. But, when it comes to his lovers, the warlock tends to wield a much lighter, cautious touch… that is, until he begins to fall hard for a certain vampire spawn. In their respective, wary calculations every encounter, Astarion and Church know they very well could be the death of each other. But as the trust between them grows, Church learns to let go of the past that holds him back from embracing the future — no matter how uncertain it may be here at the vampire spawn’s side.
Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit
@lumienyx tagged me in a “why/how did your Tav fall?” prompt, and whoops, it turned into a fic!
Excerpt below:
The rogue and warlock are searching through one of the infirmaries when the tiefling lets out a small, intrigued gasp.
“Oh!” Church murmurs. “It’s the other half of that pair of rings. Remember? We found one on that justiciar’s skeleton.” He pulls out the ring in question from his pouch, comparing the two side by side before passing them both over to Astarion. The rogue examines them as the warlock gingerly retrieves the journal from the withered skeleton’s grasp.
As he begins to read it, his mouth twists. “Oh…” he repeats, albeit softer and more troubled.
Astarion peers over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“The husband’s journal,” Church murmurs. “It tells… a much different story.” He sighs, handing it over to the rogue as well. “Poor bastard.”
Astarion skims through it. Poor bastard indeed — blissfully blinded by love when all the justiciar was doing was using him as a shield. He has to admire that it was clever of the justiciar to deceive the fool into such an arrangement. Although, by the sound of the sorry sod’s journal entries, if his dark bride had simply asked, he may very well have entered the arrangement willingly — warding bond be damned.
At first Astarion scoffs — he simply doesn’t understand people who would thanklessly sacrifice themselves just that.
…but then he thinks — just for a moment.
Does he understand? Just a little?
The more he dwells upon it, the rings’ magic as described between the two texts is certainly fascinating as a concept…
“What’s on your mind?” Church asks him, crouching down to tug a disintegrating blanket over the skeleton, for some reason.
“Well, you know,” Astarion hesitates even as he offers. Why he even offers is a mystery. “Remember… just this morning? Those… things by the river?”
The warlock’s hand flies reflexively up to his neck. “Meazels,” he grimaces.
“…meazels,” Astarion nods, gesturing emphatically. “Anyways. Since you have, hm, a tendency to take hits fairly heavily… why don’t we… you know…” he makes a gesture that would have been lewd under any other circumstances, if not for his sincere expression. “That way, even when you’re far off, I can still protect you? Take a couple hits?”
Astarion never fathomed he would ever offer such a thing to anyone. He had offered to take punishment on behalf of a sibling only once, and Godey and Cazador both made sure that he regretted it more than anything else in the moment. Violet never bothered to return the favor anyways.
But Church…
…misty-stepped right in front of the wretched creature, blasting it away before its claws could reach Astarion. Damn it, the rogue scolded himself, he had gotten sloppy. Then again, none of them expected to be ambushed by such vicious creatures, especially ones that would go straight after their casters to —
He heard a strangled gasp. A meazel leapt out from the shadows, his wire whipping over Church’s neck. Astarion only had a split-second for their eyes to connect before both the struggling meazel and tiefling went hurtling over the edge of the building…
In the present, the elf gives the tiefling a meaningful look. If Astarion has to haul the warlock’s lifeless body from the ground one more time…
“No.” Church says firmly, waving him away.
“Oh, well,” Astarion says, somewhat relieved if a little miffed by how quickly the tiefling rejected the idea. “At least consider the practicality…”
“I am not going to let you be hurt because of my own carelessness,” Church snaps. “You read that journal. It’s a curse, not a blessing.”
“There’s no need for that tone,” Astarion retorts, taken aback by its harshness. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same for me.”
Church’s mouth twists and he sighs.
“…fine. You’re right — I would. But I don’t want to use these at all. I think we’ve been doing a pretty good job at covering each other’s backs lately, don’t you?” He smiles wanly at his lover. “We’ve been doing this… right, I think.”
Astarion regards him with amusement as he pockets the rings. “Doing this ‘right?’ I suppose if one of us has any idea of what that even means, it’s you.”
Church’s smile is gentle as he shrugs at him. “I’m hardly an expert, Astarion. I just do the same for you as I would for any friend, just with… you know, more…”
Astarion steps close to him, smirking as he tips the tiefling’s chin up in a kiss. Church hums softly, stumbling into him in his enthusiasm.
…it’s followed by a dry crunch.
The warlock startles, gingerly stepping off of the poor bastard in his bedroll. “Shit, sorry,” he mutters unnecessarily.
Astarion watches him, fondly.
“To be honest, I admire how easy it is for you to define what is ‘right’ in an arrangement such as ours. It’s…” he wheedles, “…admittedly not my area of expertise.”
“I…” Church frowns. “We’ve talked about this. I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. It’s not that hard.”
“You’re sweet,” Astarion smirks. “But it’s not that straightforward for all of us.” He sighs, reluctantly stepping away from the warmth of him. “Although with you — perplexing as you often are — sometimes it is that simple. It’s… refreshing.”
Church glances away a little self-consciously, a little worriedly as the elf continues to study him.
“I… envy you,” Astarion admits. “In your short life, you already seem to have had your share of… experiences,” he smirks at him suggestively for a fleeting moment. “And much of it seems to have been… enjoyable. Willing.” He flourishes a hand. “You know what I mean.”
Church smiles wistfully. “I try my best, but it hasn’t all been perfect. I’ve had my share of… mistakes.” His mouth twists a little.
“I certainly hope I’m not one of them,” Astarion half-heartedly jokes.
Church looks at him earnestly.
“No,” he says softly. “You’re not.”
Astarion flounders for a moment at that.
“Well,” he says with a flustered laugh. “That at least is a relief.” He leers conspiratorially at the tiefling. “Why don’t we brighten this place up? Tell me about the good ones.”
Church frowns at him. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about—?”
“—Oh, come on!” Astarion waves him away. “It’s fine. I’m bored. Humor me.”
Church studies him for a moment longer, before chuckling nervously. “Well… I snuck into a castle one time to visit a duke’s son…”
“I bet Wyll wishes that were him,” Astarion remarks, and the tiefling blushes purple beneath his dusky skin.
“Oh shush,” he laughs. “I had to run out of there for my life, clad only in a chaperon.”
He thinks for a moment.
“There was a half-elf bard in Baldur’s Gate — D’vana, if you’ve ever heard of her during your… nights out? Green skin, white poof of hair?”
Astarion shrugs. He’s not much in the habit of paying attention to the entertainment of his hunting grounds.
“Anyways, I used to visit her whenever I stopped by the city,” Church continues fondly. “We’d…”
“…make music together?” Astarion finishes for him suggestively. The tiefling huffs a laugh.
“We tried once or twice, but as you saw with Alfira, I’m hopeless with a lute,” he says with a sheepish grin. “No sense of rhythm… oh, wait.” He flushes. “That’s… not what you meant, was it?”
“Were you one of those adventurers who had a lover in every city?” Astarion asks in amusement.
“Lovers?” Church laughs. “No, nothing of the sort. Just… moments. Flights of fancy. Good friends,” he concedes, “but nothing more.”
“Well, those all sound like incredibly delicious moments with those friends of yours,” Astarion says lightly.
He waffles for a bit. “So are we… is this the first time you’ve done… something… like… this?” He waves his hand. “Whatever the hells this is.”
Something unreadable flashes across Church’s face as he glances away for a moment. The levity drains from his face even as he smiles softly back at the elf. “Do you mean something recurring? Exclusive?”
“I suppose,” Astarion drawls.
Church looks down, fiddling with the strap to his pouch.
“There were… a few,” he says softly, but then he blinks and straightens up, shrugging. “But nothing ever ended well.”
“Hm, well that doesn’t exactly bode well for us,” Astarion quips. The last word rings in the stale air for a moment.
“Us.” What a concept.
“I…” Church laughs nervously. “I don’t want to think like that,” he murmurs. He looks around to make sure they’re alone before reaching and grasping hold of Astarion’s hand, covering it with his other. He looks up into the elf’s eyes. “If anything, the past has just taught me to treasure each moment I can get with you,” he murmurs. “I… want to make each one last in my mind. I want to make sure…”
He trails off, and laughs a little, nervously.
“We should keep moving, shouldn’t we?” he says. “This… this is hardly the place to let our guard down.”
Astarion catches him before he can move away. The elf peers into the tiefling’s starry, yellow eyes, which struggle to hold his gaze as he stares back at him. Church’s lip quivers for just a moment, and Astarion pulls him into a soft, lingering kiss.
“Don’t tell me I’m the optimist in this arrangement,” he japes quietly. “I… like this, Church. No matter how it ends.”
Read more on Ao3!
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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years
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𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖𝕤
___________________
ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Bucky gets hit with that god awful (but really hot) sex pollen. (this was requested)
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Dub-Con/Non-Con as per usual with sex pollens fics (although i try to write them as consensual as possible :T) Smut obvi (18+ minors dni), slight daddy kink, age gap?, public male masturbation; it's brief but still
TW: very brief mention of possible suicide
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hot
____________________
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“Where are those daisies we collected from the last mission?” Tony asked you, eyes staying glued to the hologram in front of him.
“I left them on the quinjet. Fury said to wait for transportation until Shield confirms safety. It’s literally in a glass case, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, making the older man laugh.
“Just protocol, kid,” he snickered.
Meanwhile Bucky sat with Steve eating lunch, chatting it up like old men do.
“So what did you bring back from the last mission? I saw a bunch of agents in hazmat suits,” Steve said sipping his coffee.
“Uh, well Thor said we should bring some plants back for research, but it seems like a bunch of normal lookin’ daisies,” Bucky shrugged.
“Y/n loves daisies,” Steve smirked.
“Ok?”
“And you love Y/n,” Steve teased.
“No I don’t-”
“Hey boys!” you skipped past the kitchen.
“Y/n,” Bucky said standing up with a big goofy smile on his face.
“Where ‘ya going?” Steve asked with a chuckle.
“Quinjet. Fury gave us the go to start doing tests on that plant you brought the other day,” you smiled lightly jogging to the runway.
“Why don't you ask her on a date, Buck,” Steve nudged.
“Come on, she’s way too smart to go out with a dumbass like me,” Bucky joked.
“Seriously.”
“I don’t know. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another woman. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Wha- what’s even the first I’d say to her?”
“I don’t know, man. I’m on the same boat with you. Just… Tell how nice she looks today when she comes back.”
“Really?” Bucky asked skeptically.
“Yeah, be nice to her.”
“I am nice to her.”
“I mean be extra nice. Flatter her,” Steve told him, “Go wait in the lab until she comes back and tell her she looks pretty today.”
“Isn’t Tony in the lab?” Bucky asked.
“Ha ha, yeah,” Steve teased, patting his back before leaving to his room.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony mumbled seeing Bucky waltzing in the room awkwardly.
“Nothing,” he mumbled back.
Tony dropped his hands and stared at Bucky with an unimpressed look on his face. Everyone but you knew about Barnes’ little boy crush on you but he’s never had the balls to say anything. You were close to Tony and seeing as though he doesn’t particularly like Bucky, he didn’t want you hanging around him. But you were an adult so of course you hung out with whoever you wanted.
He was sure you liked him back too which never ceased to make him roll his eyes.
You walked back from the quinjet with the glass container of daisies. You weren’t exactly a plant expert but it was apparent that these daisies were mutated seeing as though the pollen swirled around the flowers gracefully. It was beautiful but then again they might be extremely dangerous considering it was a Hydra experiment.
“Hey Y/n, off to the lab again?” Steve smiled.
“Yup, gotta check these babies out according to Thor; said they might be dangerous if they’re what he thinks they are,” you said, still walking.
“And what’s that?” you just shrugged at his question unsure of the answer yourself.
“Well, Bucky’s waiting for you in the lab,” he slipped in the conversation.
“Really? Why’s-” Crash!
“Oh no,” Tony mumbled, seeing the collision in action.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.
“No, no. I should be sorry. Here let me help,” bucky knelt to the ground grabbed the fallen daisies with his bare hands.
“No! Don’t touch-” Tony shouted practically sprinting towards you two.
The golden pollen swirled in a misty manner engulfing Bucky completely. You stared with furrowed brows confused at the sight before you and what was going on. Bucky’s skin began to burn and his senses were being overloaded. All he could smell in that moment was you; the same scent that he got a whiff of this morning when he hugged you, the perfume and the shampoo that filled his senses when you walked passed him.
Tony pushed you out of the lab roughly throwing you in Steve’s arms who was just as confused.
“FRIDAY,” Tony called out.
“Yes, Mr. Stark,” the familiar voice answered.
“Lock all the doors to the lab and maybe turn on the a/c,” he commanded.
“Of course, Mr. Stark.”
All the glass walls and doors instantly shut and locked, locking Bucky inside. Bucky’s eyes found your and slammed his body against the glass desperately trying to reach you. You too ran up to the glass wall trying to understand what had happened to him. Everything was happening so suddenly.
Your forehead was pressed against the glass as was Bucky’s; both of you staring into each other’s eyes momentarily. In that moment, you could see his eyes turn golden for a quick second before his pupils dilated ridiculously before your eyes.
“Is he going to be ok?” you turned away.
“Y/n! Please!” Bucky’s muffled screams shocked you.
“Uh… where’s Thor?” Tony panicked.
“What the hell is happening?” Nat asked; Sam, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind closely.
“Nat,” you ran to her.
“What happened to Bucky?” Same asked.
“He- I ran- I ran into him by a-accident and the box dropped. There was mist everywhere and Bucky's eyes. His eyes,” you stammered breathlessly.
“Please! I need her!” Bucky hit the glass in an attempt to break it.
“Oh my goodness,” Wanda gasped at the sweaty Bucky hitting and practically going feral.
“Oh god, is he gonna be ok?” you teared up. This is your fault, dammit.
“I can asure he will experience no physical harm,” Thor’s voice made all of you turn around.
“Just physically? What the hell does that mean?” Sam argued.
“Well, uh… I’ve never actually seen it’s effects in person. Especially not on a Midguardian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes grew big.
Nat snapped her head, eyes widening as well. Bucky with absolutely no shame held his hard dick in his hands pumping it with his eyes trained on you. You went to turn around seeing nat’s expression but she covered you eyes before you could actually see the lewd behavior Bucky indulged in.
“What’s happening?” you asked holding onto Nat as she led across the room.
“Nothing, they’re gonna take care of Buck. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.
You sat in your room bouncing your leg as the movie on your TV played. Every now and then Bucky would moan and cry particularly loud making all of you wince and cringe. But your mind felt foggy simply thinking about Bucky and his safety; especially that moment when his eyes went from confusion to you don’t even know what. Hunger? Desire? Lust?
Whatever it was, it made your tummy flutter.
“Steve, any news on Bucky?” Steve stood at the doorway with a worrisome face that did nothing to ease your already panicked nerves.
“Well, as far as Thor knows the plant that was mutated with the daisies was pollen extracted from a breeding plant common among other galaxies; for species that can’t… reproduce like we do. The pollen enters the system and targets the nociceptors causing excruciating pain without physical harm. If untreated the victim can reach a traumatic state and truthfully, they will do anything to stop the pain; even kill themselves.”
“What the hell does any of that mean?” Sam grunted.
“It means the tin man is painfully horny,” Tony interrupted.
“Are you fucking serious?” Sam said in disbelief.
“What’s the cure?” Nat said.
“Oxytocin, of course,” Tony said.
“The cuddle hormone,” you whispered.
“Yup. Banner and I are already working on a serum containing artificial oxytocin in hopes to minimize the pain or even better cure him completely. We-”
“I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit more complicated than that,” Thor interrupted Tony.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, see the pollen, it’s a little tricky. The oxyputin-thingy you mentioned…”
“Oxytocin,” Tony clarified but Thor didn’t care too much.
“I don't think artificial love is going to cure the boy. If you want results, he needs to be the one he desires most. That’s where you’ll get your oxy-pudding.”
“Oxy- You know what, we can figure this out without anyone needing to have sex,” Tony groaned.
“Tony, maybe we shouldn’t-” you started.
“Nope, we can do this. We’re science bros,” Tony stormed away like a child.
“Isn’t your lab being ‘occupied’,” Nat called out.
“Shit!”
-
Hours went by and the oxytocin experiments were clearly a fail. The first dose did nothing. The second also nothing. The third relieved him for only ten seconds before he went back to his painful state. Since then, they haven’t been able to help or relieve Bucky’s circumstance any longer.
You thought about Thor’s words, about how the one he desires most could cure him. A ping of jealousy struck your heart but you knew you to find the woman Bucky loved and just pray that she'd help him. You made your way back to the lad area where Tony and Bruce had their new makeshift set up while the lab was locked down.
“Tony, this is ridiculous. It’s been going on for too long. You heard what Thor said about what happens when it gets too much,” you begged.
“And what do you suggest we do?” Tony said angrily.
“We need to find the woman that Bucky loves so she can help him,” you argued back.
“It's not just some woman, Y/n! He wants you.”
“What?”
“All the bastard’s been doing for the past eight hours has been masterbating while moaning your name. I’m not putting you in that situation,” Tony yelled.
You couldn’t speak. Was he telling you the truth? Did Bucky want you like that? The same way you secretly wanted him? It’s not like you haven't thought about what being with Bucky would be like before. He was perfect; so handsome and charming.
You ran back to your room where the rest of the guys still were practically out of breath; your heart hammering out of your chest and your stomach fluttering like it does whenever you think about Bucky.
“I need to get to Bucky,” you panted out.
“What?”
“Please you guys need to help me. Tony said that Bucky wants me; I mean can you believe. A guy like him wanting me? I’m just… nobody. He’s way too out of my league and-”
“Y/n, focus,” Nat said.
“Right. I- I want to help him. I know I can.”
“Y/n, we don’t know how dangerous this is. I mean, it came from Hydra, this could be weaponized and you could get hurt,” Steve argued.
“Bucky could never hurt me,” you whispered; Nat looked at you softly, understanding the situation better realizing you were probably Bucky’s only chance of a cure.
“You’re not actually considering letting her do this are you?” Steve scolded Nat.
"Are Tony and Bruce making any progress?" she sighed.
"They haven't been to even relieve his pain for longer than ten seconds," you whispered.
"Steve, this is Bucky we're talking about. Hasn't he endure enough torture in his life?" Nat said softly.
That seemed to convince him. Seeing Bucky in so much pain like he had been only years ago was unfair, especially when they technically already knew a cure. Waiting this out was pure evil at this point.
"How do you suppose we go about this?" he asked.
You devised a plan in order to let Bucky from the lab; he'd find his way to you on his own. Wanda stood from afar using her powers to tamper with the equipment. Tony frustratingly would have to run across the compound to the conference rooms to grab new devices in order to continue with his notes and tests.
On his way back, Steve and his convincing and charming ways would stall Tony's return asking him all sorts of questions about Bucky's state. Meanwhile, Thor made up some excuse to lure Banner away just for a minute so Nat and Sam could override the lockdown through Friday and free Bucky.
All the while you sat in your room waiting anxiously for Bucky to barge through the door and have his way with you.
A few minutes went by and no sign of a ruckus you'd assume would accompany the escape plan. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt biting your lip in anticipation. Still no sign after a couple more minutes. Wanting to make sure you still looked alright for Buck, although he'd probably not even acknowledge your appearance, you stood up to walk to your bathroom.
Just as you stood up, Bucky in all his muscle and broad glory slammed the door behind him staring at you with nothing but desperate hunger. Your stomach flipped when you saw him lock the door, pushing a small chair you had just next to it in front of the door under the handle.
He stalked towards practically panting and you took in his appearance. His hair was quite disheveled and sweat lined his forehead and slightly down his neck. Despite that, he still looked so handsome and sexy.
"маленький, all dressed up for me to ruin," he growled crawling up the bed as you crawled back.
"Buck, are you ok? I want to help you," you whispered.
"I'm more than ok now, beautiful," he whispered leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours, chuckling when you visibly trembled.
"Is my красивый маленький ангел gonna let me use her?" he whispered, huskily.
"Bucky, I don't understand what you're saying."
"так драгоценно," he whispered against your lips before pressing himself completely against you.
His hands, contrast between hot and cold, crept under your shirt brushing lightly over your delicate skin. You had somewhat expected Bucky to have no control and use you relentlessly, of which you wouldn't have minded, but this soft ginger foreplay was really making your panties wet.
Bucky slowly lifted the shirt from your body before tossing it to the side and removing his own. His hands cupped your breasts squeezing the soft flesh quite roughly making you sigh and moan at the feeling.
His lips attached themselves to your neck biting and sucking harshly littering your skin with dark purple marks. He nibbled on your ear as he grinding his pelvis against yours, his large erection poking your center making you even more aroused.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you. It smelled just like you," he whispered.
"T- The daisies?"
"I've been craving you, aching for you. Thinking about how good you're gonna feel wrapped around my cock," he panted speeding up his grinding thrusts.
"Buck," you breathed out.
Bucky shuddered over you before stilling for a moment. He couldn't help it, your scent, your warm skin pressed against his, he couldn't hold back anymore coming straight away in his pants.
You brushed his hair softly soothing him from his high. You thought it was over, that he felt better and was finally cured but almost instantly you felt Bucky harden under you, poking between your thighs and you gasped knowing very well it was going to be a long night.
Bucky stood on his knees and pulled your bottoms down your legs nearly ripping the material. He too rid his bottoms throwing them god knows where before climbing back on top of you. You stared adorably up at him and Bucky almost came again. He smiled softly at you before kissing you once more.
Suddenly, loud bangs on your door startled you but not Bucky.
"What the hell are you doing!" Tony screamed.
"Tony, you gotta stop! This is the only way! It's not fair to him to let him keep suffering. He's done enough of that, ok?" Nat shouted.
"She's gonna get hurt," Tony sighed.
"No she won't. This was her idea."
Tony looked back teary eyed. He really cared for you as his own and putting you in a situation like this wasn't fair to you either. He really tried to help but this was just too complicated and too advanced to solve in only a few hours. They were right, Bucky needed you as much as he didn't like that idea too much.
"Fine."
Bucky lined his cock with your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he pushed in pulling moans from you both. You've only had a couple lovers previous to Bucky but neither of them ever filled you so perfectly. Bucky stretched you out like none other and admittedly he wanted to use his fingers on you first but he'd been away for too long it was too painful to go another second without being inside you.
"So tight and warm, little one. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me."
"Buck," you moaned.
You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you as you kissed along his neck and jaw. Bucky moaned breathlessly in your ear and you couldn't help the clenching around him from arousal.
"Fuck, keep doing that, little one," he groaned.
Toy squeezed your thighs together and clenched around him again making him groan louder this time. His thrusts became sporadic and you moved against like a ragdoll unable to keep up with his relentless pace.
Your legs began to shake and your back arched into his chest reaching you first high of the night, gushing all over his cock. You realize he hasn't come and gently push him off you before flipping over to let him take you again from behind.
As expected, Bucky pushed into once again deeper this time and you shuddered under his hand that rested atop your arched back. Bucky smacked and kneaded your ass thrusting in and out. The lewd squelching sound of his thrust mixed with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room.
"Shit, little one. Taking my cock so fucking well," he reached forward and bunch up your hair pulling your head back harshly.
“Shit,” you mumbled.
Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets as hard as you could. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you weren't going to be able to hold back any longer. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock making him throw his head back in pleasure.
"Please, Bucky," you whimpered.
"You wanna come, darling. You wanna cream all over daddy's cock?"
"Yes! Fuck!" your arms shook before giving out completely; your head buried in the sheets as Bucky continued that same wild and rough pace.
"Please let me come, daddy!"
Your body felt on fire. No one has ever made you feel this good before, it was almost too much, too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes from trying to desperately hold back. You wanted to come with Bucky but seeing as his pace had yet to slow down you were beginning to think he wasn't even close.
"Let go, doll."
Your body squirmed beneath him as you released all over his dick. You came with a near shout, your body violently trembling from the intensity of your high. Bucky slowed his pace for your comfort, gently riding your orgasm slowly down despite his still aching erection.
He languidly rolled you over to your back, his hands softly rubbing your sides up to your breasts. You breathed heavily, eyes feeling droopy, all you could feel in that moment was his cum dripping from you onto the sheets.
Bucky, still knelt on the bed and still chasing his release, lifted your legs over his thighs gripping your hip with one hand and his cock with the other. You squeezed your thighs together when you felt his tip poking at your entrance once again, soft whimpers emitting from you shakily.
"Such a good girl. Gonna let me take you again? Gonna let me keep using you?" he moaned.
"Use me, Buck. I'm all yours," you breathed out.
Bucky pushed himself past your folds once again, your cum easily letting him slide in. Both his hands made home on your hips gripping hardly surely to leave marks for you to remember this very moment. You looked at Bucky as his thrusts slowly began to pick up, bringing your own hands to your breasts to play with your nipples. You twisted the perked buds, moaning softly at the feeling as well as Bucky filling you perfectly once again.
"Filling me up so good, baby," you moaned, arching your back slightly allowing Bucky to hit a newer and deeper angle inside you.
"Pussy was fucking made for me," he growled.
His hand moved from its home on your hip right over your lower belly where he could feel his cock so deep poking his own hand through your tummy.
"Feel how fucking deep I am?"
You moved your hand and he pressed yours in the same spot under his and you moaned loudly, shuddering under him.
His pace quickened and for a moment he thought he was going to finally reach his high, that release he'd been thinking about for hours today, but when he felt you clench again, squeezing his cock tightly and he didn't cum, he knew it was gonna be chase that he didn't know you'd be up for. You gushed all over his dick, back arching and your legs pressing tight around his torso, coming with a loud scream of his name.
Bucky fell forward with tears in his eyes. His skin still felt hot and sticky. His sense felt dialed up to an eleven. It was all so overwhelming and all he wanted was to cum in you and hold you closer whispering how he really loved you. He pressed faint kisses to you equally sticky and warm skin and when you felt warm liquid dripping onto your skin to lift Bucky's head to find him crying.
"What's wrong, baby?"
“I can’t cum. I just wanna cum,” he whined.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I can go as many times as you need me to. I want to help you, let me do that.”
“Can- Can you uh… use your mouth please? I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so bad,” he moaned.
“Of course, baby. I’d do anything for you,” you smirked before pushing him and crawling over him holding his dick in your hand.
-
Hours and literally hours had passed until Bucky was finally tired out only having cum three times compared to the fifteen-plus times you had. Your bed laid on the ground; the wooden stands snapped about two hours ago. Most of your sheets were torn to shreds and marks littered your body from your neck down to your hips and your knees from, well you know.
Your body shook as you laid in a fetal position. You burned between your thighs; the soreness overwhelming but pleasant at the same time. Sweat made what was left of the sheets stick to your body until Bucky pulled them from you to clean you. He used a warm towel all over your body with tears in his eyes whispering how sorry he was about everything.
“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me now; if you never want to see me again. Just know that I’m so sorry about your bed, the blankets, if I hurt you, everything,” he sniffled, eyes and nose red and puffy.
“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice raspy and croaky from your moaning and screaming all night.
“Y/n,” he whispered back. You pulled him by the back of his neck into a soft yet passionate kiss.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out when you pulled away. You cupped his face with shaky hands but a smile on your face.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I’ve dreamt about holding you far too many times, more than I’d like to admit. I should’ve told you sooner but like everyone else, I was scared you didn’t like me back; at least not this way,” he rubbed your legs indicating the intimate love he had for you.
“Buck, it’s virtually impossible for anyone not to fall in love with you. Unless they’re Tony,” you giggled as did he.
“Can you say it?” he asked softly.
“That I love you?” you smiled brushing your nose against his; Bucky practically purred as he nodded.
“I love you, James,” you whispered.
“Fuck, I love you too.”
He laid you down softly again on the broken bed pressing light kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. You brushed his hair with your fingers as he clung onto you ready to sleep.
“Thank you again, doll. For helping me today,” he said after a couple minutes of silence.
“Of course, my love. Besides I’m the one who ran into you with those damn daisies.”
“Thank god for them then. And for your clumsiness,” Bucky chuckled.
“Meanie,” you snorted, making Bucky laugh even more.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Buck.”
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hope mikaelson x reader , bestfriends to rivials to secret protectors to lovers ?
secret protectors is secretly protecting eachother btw
and if you can , can you start it where they are ex bestfriends already
sure thing darling ;) I’ve tweaked it a tad but it’s mostly the same
it’s quite shitty but It’s written with my sleep deprived brain.. so.. sorry.
warnings : swearing, mentions of sex, underage drinking
Y/N Y/L/N and Hope Andrea Mikaelson.
The two of you had an.. interesting history to say the least.
Let’s start with the backstory shall we?
Now the two of you had already come from feuding families, though you had both completely disregarded that fact in your first meeting and there was an instant platonic connection. One which you and her both eagerly deepened as you’d both grown up shadowed from the outside world and without the ability to form relationships of any kind, so it was like a first to the both of you. In a sense.
Your relationship status of friends quickly glided from good friends to close friends to best friends and the two of you were perfectly content with this.
Of course that was until you families had to go ahead and ruin it.
It was actually Hope’s mum Hayley who had found out about your secret friendship first, unbeknownst to you, and Hope had almost burst into tears at the look of shock and mild disgust on her mum’s face.
“You’re father told me about that family.” Hayley had said “They aren’t a good bunch sweetheart.”
And Hope had stayed mute and assumed that that was the end of that — but of course she knew deep down that wasn’t simply going to be the end of this situation she had gotten herself into.
The next day, she was at a family dinner — one which they commonly had every single evening so nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the slightest.
But the tense looks on all her families faces told her otherwise and she had felt her heart psychically constrict at her dad’s next words.
“We don’t want you involved with that y/l/n family.”
That sentence was playing on her mind for days as she actively avoided you at all cost, knowing full well a look into your y/e/c eyes would only worsen her current predicament.
But she made her decision (no matter how difficult).
Family was everything to her...
So the next day, she had met you in person in broken up your friendship in perhaps the rudest way possible she could think of in the hopes you would start disliking her and consequently leaving her life which made her family life so much easier. No matter how the mere thought being without your presence for eternity pained her dearly.
But afterwards it was after your friendship never happened.
You went to thinking she was just like how your parents portrayed her family to be.
And she went to glaring in the halls of school and showcasing her ‘hate’ while dreaming of you when the day turned to dusk.
• • •
“Looking good y/n.” Your friend (kinda) Bianca Goldman whistled as you strutted over to her where she stood leaning against a tree as she observed the lively party.
“You too Ani.” You smiled playfully, twirling a strand of Bianca’s strawberry blonde hair around your finger with a playfully seductive look in your eyes.
“Go find someone else to hit on, you’ve got half the school pining after you.” Bianca scoffed lightly with a joking (mostly) roll of her green eyes but anyone could make out the newly gained pink flush to her pale skin.
“Aww no need to be jealous Ani.” You whispered lightly with a mocking pout as you leaned in a little more and watched in amusement as her pale skin gained a more crimson flush.
However, what you failed to see was from across the forest. Leaning against her own tree was your ex-bestfriend (enemy to everyone’s knowledge) watching you intently with jealously shining transparently in her ocean blue eyes.
“What’s go your thong in a twist princess.” Elizabeth Saltzman smirked jokingly, her eyes alight with the perfect mixture of mirth and entertainment that masked her confusion.
Hope didn’t answer, instead, a glare glazed over her previously envious blue eyes and she pursed her lips together.
“You’re jealous aren’t you?” Lizzie asked in amusement though slight shock, her gaze quickly flickering between both you and Hope with a new sense of interest and determination.
“Jealous of what? I’m only concerned for Bianca, y/n plays people and leaves them high and dry.” Hope spoke defensively.
“More like pleased and happy.” Lizzie corrected cheekily.
Her response was a displeased scoff and Hope taking an even bigger swig of her beer.
• • •
It was officially the next day and those who weren’t suffering with hangovers (the vampires and some werewolves or witches who knew the correct spells) were up bright and early.. most of them.
You were a witch, a bloody good one at that and thankfully you knew the hangover spell but with your lifestyle you sort of had to know it.
Still — instead of attending class like you were obviously meant to, you just went down to the kitchens for some food because hey? food is way more important than studies, right.?
Standing in the kitchens and munching happily on a chocolate chip cookie and you heard a sharp gust of wind. One which you could identify with an approaching vampire.
But before you could even turn, a resounding thud rang out through the kitchen and you turned to see a vampire, a newbie — Leon Arnold — neck snapped on the floor, blood staining his lips, mouth and shirt and vampire features receding back.
You blew out a harsh breath and placed your hand on your head, trying to calm your rapidly racing heart.
Under her own cloaking spell, Hope Mikaelson smiled lightly to herself in accomplishment and relief. Oh so maybe this seemed slightly stalker-ish.. but she was curious to what you did when you didn’t attend class and honestly thank god she did decide to be .. stalker-ish today.
“Mikaelson?”
Shit. She just so happened to forget you were an equally as powered witch who could see past her spells.
“You did that..?” You gestured to Leon and much to the annoyance of yourself you felt a warm feeling encase your heart at the thought of her protecting you.
“Yeah..I did.” Hope nodded her head hesitantly and slipped a quick smile over her plush pink lips with her cheeks discreetly flushing at the softer look that entered your y/e/c eyes.
“Well thank you.” You spoke sincerely and cursed yourself out mentally for the butterflies that swarmed around your stomach.
Just like old times
A response wasn’t heard on Hope’s end as you hastily hurried out.
• • •
“Ugh this is stupid.” Lizzie groaned slumping against the wall as she watched Hope pointedly avoid your eyes and you do the same. She had a sneaking suspicion and she also had an idea which in her opinion was spectacular.
“What is?” Josette, Josie, Saltzman asked hesitantly as she looked up with the end of her of pencil resting between her lips absentmindedly.
“This!” Elizabeth practically shouted as she gestured between Hope and you and Josie looked on with wide perplexed eyes.
“No you know what.” Lizzie muttered, putting Hope’s wrist in a tight hold and magically dragging you over. Ignoring your groans and shouts of protest and everyone’s either wide and curious or shocked eyes.
Quickly, she basically threw the both of you in the nearest classroom and placed a spell on the door.
“Talk! Now!”
You and Hope sat in a extremely tense silence for about a minute or so just staring into each other’s heatedly.
Before suddenly she crashed froward and pressed her lips into yours hungrily.
You eagerly responded to the kiss, familiar with this nature of kiss, winding your hands through her soft locks of auburn hair as hers wrapped around your waist. Hope let out a little moan as you ran your tongue over her bottom lip and she obediently opened her mouth slightly for you to proceed.
Abruptly the two of you pulled apart, panting harshly.
“We should—“
“Yeah—“
“Be my girlfriend—“
It felt like time stopped from a moment and with a wide grin appearing on your face you nodded your head frantically.
Your families the last thing on your minds.
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Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin
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Pairing: Seokjin x reader
Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.
Also available on Ao3.
Word count: 14.7k
Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut
Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed
A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey​ who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!
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February 15th
You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.
The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.
Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.
If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.
You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.
“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”
“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”
“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.
“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”
“Of course!”
His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.
“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.
“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.
Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.
“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.
“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”
“That— That would be nice, actually.”
“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”
It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.
You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.
While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.
It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.
God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back ��� really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.
You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.
Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.
You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.
That can’t make his job fun.
You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.
Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.
“Jeon Jungkook!”
You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.
It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.
“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”
A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.
“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”
“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.
“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.
“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”
Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.
“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.
“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”
“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.
“Hey, what do we say to customers?”
“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”
Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.
You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.
“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.
You nod and smile.
“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”
“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.
Especially not when you don’t have their last name.
You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.
“Jungkook!”
The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.
“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.
“How could you run away like that, you little—”
Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.
“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.
“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.
The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.
February 22nd
When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.
There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.
A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.
“For here or to go?”
“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”
“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.
He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.
June 1st
You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.
Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.
Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.
You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.
You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.
You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.
“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.
When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.
June 21st
You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.
You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.
“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.
“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes.  “I need your help.”
Namjoon stands up.
“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”
“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”
Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.
“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.
He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.
“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”
You blink.
“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”
“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.
“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.
“Will do!”
“Bake a leg!”
You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.
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You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.
“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.
“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.
You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.
“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.
“You don’t mind?”
Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.
“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”
“I do.”
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That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.
“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.
Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.
“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.
His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.
“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”
Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.
“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.
“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.
You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.
“Listen, I am so sorry—”
“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.
“Sure I am, Jin, please—”
But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.
Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.
Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.
The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.
You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.
“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.
He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.
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You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.
You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.
It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.
You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.
You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.
“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”
“Thank you!” you shout back.
Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.
He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?
He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.
“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.
It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.
“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.
“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.
“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.
“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”
Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.
“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”
“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”
Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.
“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”
You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.
“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”
You turn around, shaking your head.
“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”
“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”
“I’m not!”
Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.
“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”
Jin is on his feet immediately.
“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.
“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.
“You’re sure?”
“Very.”
He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.
“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”
You take your phone back from him with a laugh.
“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.
“You better.”
You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.
Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.
July 15th
Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.
Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.
Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.
Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.
You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.
Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.
“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.
It takes you just a second too long to answer.
“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.
“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”
“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”
Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.
“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”
“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”
“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”
You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.
“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”
“Well I have to.”
“I’m so sorry for you.”
“I’m sorry for me too.”
Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.
But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.
September 18th
Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.
Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.
“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”
“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.
You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.
“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”
“Like milk.”
“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting  a pineapple pie.”
You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.
“That sounds… interesting?”
“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.
Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.
“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”
Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.
“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”
You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.
Great.
“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.
“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”
Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.
“Oh, this is—”
“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”
You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.
The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.
Nothing else here.
“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”
“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”
“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.
“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.
“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.
“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.
“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”
“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.
You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.
“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.
“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”
“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”
You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.
“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”
“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”
“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”
He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.
“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”
“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”
He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.
“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.
“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.
“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.
“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.
The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.
“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”
“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”
Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.
“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.
“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.
But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.
October 31st
“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.
You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.
“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.
“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”
You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.
But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?
“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.
You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.
January 10th
You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.
“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”
He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.
“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.
You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.
“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”
“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.
But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.
“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.
And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.
You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.
“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.
He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.
He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.
February 5th
You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.
Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.
“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”
He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.
“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”
You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.
“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”
Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.
February 14th
It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.
Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.
You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?
“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.
“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”
You give her a confused look.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”
It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.
“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”
You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?
Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.
“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”
She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.
“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.
“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”
That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.
She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.
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The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.
And you’re not happy with it.
You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.
Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.
“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.
He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.
“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”
He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—
It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.
And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.
Apparently you were wrong.
Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.
“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”
His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.
“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”
“No, don’t—”
“Sorry!”
You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.
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You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.
“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.
“Is Jin here?”
“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.
“Can I….?”
He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.
You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.
“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.
Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.
Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?
“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.
“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”
You need an answer. Desperately.
Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.
“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”
You shrug, though he can’t see it.
“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”
“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”
You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.
“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”
“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.
“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.
“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”
“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.
“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”
Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—
“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”
You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—
“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”
“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”
And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.
“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”
“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”
But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.
“Goodbye (Y/N)!”
“Bye, Jungkook!”
“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.
“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.
“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.
“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”
“I’m not.”
“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”
“Good that you did. I never liked him.”
“So you are jealous.”
Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.
Because he’s all you want right now.
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It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.
“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.
“Take them off then,” he groans.
You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.
“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.
You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.
“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.
“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”
You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.
“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”
You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.
“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”
Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.
Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.
“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.
“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.
“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.
Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.
“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.
Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.
“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.
He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.
You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.
“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.
You hope he does.
You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.
For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”
He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.
“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.
Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.
“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.
“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.
Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.
“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”
His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.
“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”
You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.
You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.
“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.
“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”
He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.
Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.
“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”
You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.
It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.
“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”
“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.
“Good. That’s good.”
Pillow talk is not your forte.
“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
You chuckle.
“I think I’m in love with you too.”
“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.
“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.
“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”
His arms tighten around you possessively.
“I would never.”
It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.
Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.
March 14th
The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.
“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”
You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.
“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”
But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.
“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.
Your eyes widen in horror.
“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”
Jin rolls his eyes.
“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”
He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the  deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.
“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”
His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.
“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.
“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.
“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”
Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.
“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.
“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”
“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.
“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.
You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.
The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.
“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”
“Jin?” you interrupt him.
“Y-yeah?”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.
“Well, if you absolutely have to—”
But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.
“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.
“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”
He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.
There are some things you don’t need words for.
Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.
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mrsmount16 · 3 years
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Hey I was wondering if you could write a MM imagine where him and the reader have only gone on a couple of dates then when the announcement of the first lockdown is made he asks the reader to isolate with him? Then I was thinking while they’re isolating they’re experiencing a few Firsts with each other (e.g., cooking together, sharing a bed, movie nights, cuddles and kisses etc).
I didn't know how to write this without being super long and boring so I was going to section it off but hopefully it still gives off the same energy then a normal write lmao, also thank you for the request and this is such a good idea 😩. I didn't really know what other firsts to do😕 I haven’t proof read this either, so it could make no sense at all and probably have spelling mistakes but pls just power through it 🤞🏼
Warning: None.
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Lockdown was being announced and everyone was panicking, the news emphasised on the amount of food people were buying and how there was no loo roll left but also about how relationships weren't going to work out due to being locked in the houses for all this time without seeing your significant other or because you was seeing them too much.
You had only been on a couple of dates with Mason, but you both knew that you wanted to pursue something more personal and deep and not just mess around for the fun of it. Thats why when he asked you to isolate with him you didn't hesitate to say yes. Even though the news told you otherwise of how to feel you simply ignored and couldn't wait to spend as much time with him as possible, building up a true connection between you both and making your bond stronger.
Cuddling and kisses and sharing a bed.
You arrived earlier in the day and had already taken your things to the spare bedroom and now sat on his couch, him on the opposite side. You guys hadn't stopped talking throughout the whole movie that played and eventually when it ended you insisted that you bought a takeaway for the both of you.
He agreed and when the pizza arrived you both sat at the table and had a slice, talking endlessly about random things like 'why colours are named what they are' and 'how were humans created'. After about an hour, it was dark out and just turned 9pm.
"I'm gonna get comfy and ready for bed."
"Yeah, I'll meet you up there in a few." He smiled and kissed your cheek, grabbing the box and walking off outside.
It was pretty cold out so you pulled on a hoodie and joggers, and you removed your makeup and cleaned your face and teeth and sat on the bed in the free room on your phone.
He knocked on the door and peaked his head through the door frame at about 10.
"You coming?" He gestures to his room.
"Oh yeah, hold up." You smile watching him leave.
He lay on the bed on his phone, lighting up when he saw you enter.
"You don't have to stay in here if you don't want to." He stated, watching as you climbed into bed next to him.
"No, I want to." You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on the pillow.
"I want you to, too." He put an arm around your waist and finally rested down after turning the light off on the bedside table.
You were both submerged in complete darkness, a tranquil atmosphere surrounded you both, the duvet lazily spread across you and your faces faced each other. His eyes were closed, but you lightly leaned in and pecked his lips causing him to open his eyes.
"Goodnight." You said, looking up at him.
"Goodnight pretty." He smiled, kissing you again lightly and resting his head.
You fell asleep in his arms, totally engulfed with his care and serenity, it rubbed off onto you. This was the best sleep you ever had in ages, and you wanted to do it a lot more.
Cooking.
"Hey! Thats not where the flour goes." You retaliated at Mason putting the flour on your nose, a sneeze followed shortly after.
"Oh, my bad." He giggled, sticking the rest of the flour in the bowl.
"These are going to be the best cupcakes you have ever baked."You said, mixing all the ingredients with all the strength you had.
"Yeah? I reckon by myself I could cook some pretty good cupcakes. With no help of Course." He leaned against the counter, his apron said 'world best chef' and he was covered in all ingredients that you didn't even know had to be in the cupcakes.
"Well, we will see about that once you taste my cakes." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him and wiping a little bit of frosting on his cheek. "Got u back." You giggled.
He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to him so your front's were together.
"You look amazing cooking.." He cheekily smiled.
"Not too bad yourself." You kissed him, he deepened the kiss and ran his hand up your back, until you felt a hard crack on your head and then an ooze of a liquid go down your back, mason was laughing uncontrollably, holding his stomach and near enough rolling on the floor.
"Mason!" You shouted, shocked and holding your head, "Did you just egg me?" You laughed, grabbing the egg that was on you and smearing it all over him.
"Two can play that game!" You giggled, grabbing flower and eggs.
Fight and makeup.
"No, I just don't particularly like her. You told me about what she did, she's a bad influence." He argued back.
"Oh, so she's a bad influence? So you think I would do something like that?" You scoffed. Your friend invited you to go on a walk around the park, and you told Mason but when he heard your friends name he instantly scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. He had no care about it and sighed, telling you to just 'do what you wanna, your choice at the end of the day.'. You asked why he was being so moody and he replied that he doesn't like her, and you understood why but because he didn't like her didn't mean that you couldn't hang with her. You did tell him that she did cheat on her boyfriend and you completely disagreed with her actions too but now he was saying she was a 'bad influence' like you was going to be influenced by what she did and start following her actions like you was a child.
"Its only for a catch up Mase, I haven't seen her in like 3 weeks. I haven't been at work remember and ive been locked up here."
"Yes, but anyone but her. We could go. I't doesn't matter, just go. Ill see you when you get back." And then he stormed off up to his gaming room, releasing all his stress on his games.
After about 40 minutes, you realised he was right, it wasn't just the cheating but she just overall was a bad person and you shouldn't have been encouraging such gossip with her.
You entered his room and put your hands on his shoulders, he looked back at you and then carried on his game like you wasn't even there.
"I'm sorry Mase, you was right. I can surround myself with much better people, and I will."
He turned his chair around so he was facing you and grabbed your hips to sit you down on his lap.
"It's okay, and ill go on that walk with you. Let me just finish this game." He said, smiling lightly and giving you a kiss which you returned.
Go-to support.
It was about 2 months into lockdown and your work had been piling up. You was stressed and so not motivated to do anything, even getting up out of bed was hard.
This day was particularly a struggle. You had to finish a presentation and only had today to do it, so you panicked and speeded it, finishing it as quick as ou could without caring about the outcome and just sending it off.
You sat at the kitchen table with your face in your hands, thinking about all the possibilities, will you lose your job? Will you get demoted? You just couldn't stop your mind from wandering.
"Are you okay babe?" You heard Masons voice from behind you and felt a hand on your back soothing you.
You couldn't hold it in anymore and broke down, whimpering and wiping your eyes.
"Mason I need a break from work, its so stressful and I think with the work I just did I'm going to lose my job and im just not motivated to do anything and I-" you rambled on, until he cut you off.
"Hey, hey calm down," He crouched down and placed his hand on the side of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "Don't beat yourself up about it. It's happening to everyone now, im sure if we ask your work to give you some time for your mental health im sure they would let you." he smiled reassuringly.
"We?" You sniffed.
"Yeah, we. We're gonna get through this together. Now, it's always we." He stood up and hugged you tight.
Love and a movie night.
It's been about a 5 months now, and you and Mason had been going strong.
Mason insisted that you watch a movie tonight, sit down with some popcorn and snuggle up together. Of course you said yes.
About halfway in the movie, a conversation popped up about 'what would you do if you was a worm?' and you couldn't stop laughing, at both of your responses.
"Yeah, but I would definitely still love you if you was a worm." He joked, laughing with you.
You stopped almost instantly, looking over at him.
"What?" He looked over, confused.
"Did you just say that you love me?" You questioned, sitting up.
"You didn't hear? I love you." He smiled, chuckling.
you gasped, putting your hands over your mouth. He reached out and grabbed your face.
"I love you." He repeated, just for you to realise what he did, so you could know that it was real, to process the words.
"I love you." You stated, grinning from ear to ear.
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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years
Text
WAAAH I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE REQUEST TT^TT TO THE ANON WHO WISHED FOR THE TERU X READER, ANGST TO FLUFF, HERE IT ISS;; I'M SO SORRY;;;;;
teru minamoto x gn!reader
a/n: thank you so much for being patient and understanding, though I’m still so sorry for how long this took;;!! It really does mean a lot, so truly- thank you for that, and for the encouragement <3! But!! Of course, I’m a bit of a sucker for angst to fluff, tho I don’t write it too often, so I hope it turns out alright! Thank you so much for requesting, and for your encouragement!!! <3 <333
warnings: self deprecating thoughts..?
word count: 1,848
Your eyes drifted around the room. Person to person, conversation to conversations. Yet, you sat at your desk, lunch in front of you, completely alone. You had a boyfriend, yes, but you didn’t even know where on earth he could be… no, he usually sat with you during lunch. However, today he walked up to you, announcing that he had to attend to something during lunch. He asked if you could eat your lunch without him today, and… well, who were you to say no?
The bell rang, and your lunch remained barely touched. You were sure you wouldn’t have been so dramatic normally- however, it felt as if Teru was practically avoiding you at this point. In fact, it almost felt like he was ditching you for someone else. The thought was enough to make you feel nauseous- both because of it being unpleasant, and because you felt bad for simply thinking it. Teru was a good person. You wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. Still, he was only human… and, in your head, there were many other humans out there much more fit for Teru. She was one of them.
Her hair flowed alongside her. Her skin was practically flawless. Her teeth weren’t crooked, and her smile was… frankly, flawless. Good grades, good body, good personality. A lovely match for the prince of the school. A princess suited just for him.
Yet, he seemed to stick with the… well- what was the opposite of a princess? A… troll? You did suppose that, compared to someone like that, a troll was a fair enough comparison. Nothing but a creature in the face of such beauty.
The worst part, you were sure, was the fact that Teru did spend time with her. In fact, you were confident that she “needed him” for something during lunch, causing him to miss out on yet another thing. As if grabbing his attention after school during club activities wasn’t enough. As if going to him constantly to ask for help on things you were positive she was perfectly good at. Her grades were nearly as good as his… was it because he helped her? In that case, why were your grades still lower…? Teru helped you study plenty of times- and, while your grades did get better, you were sure you couldn’t get all 99s and 100s. It was impossible for someone who couldn’t be any form of royalty.
You leaned over, placing your lunch back into the box, then shoving the box into your bookbag. Once you sat up, the classroom door was pushed open- as it usually was. It was right after lunch, after all. However, when you saw two familiar people step in, you began to wish that the door never opened. If only it had been locked- if only someone got distracted. If only you looked down just a bit longer. But, it was done- there was no going back, no need to go back, on such a tiny detail.
In stepped the “Princess”, the “Prince” following her- he even held the door open. It was a basic act of chivalry, yes, but the lack of it around you only made him that much more like a prince… Yes, he wasn’t kind to just you. He treated everyone with kindness, as a normal person should. That little act shouldn’t have made you feel that twinge of jealousy- of doubt- spark in your mind.
“(Y/N), were you able to enjoy lunch?” Teru asked, taking a seat next to you. At least he was still acknowledging you.
“Mmh… I’m not really hungry, haha.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly, concern crossing onto his beautiful features.
“Are you feeling alright? I don’t want you to wind up hungry later…”
Of course, the concern on his face was no longer in your direction- his expression changing slightly as the unfortunately familiar girl called his name. Though she spoke to him, his eyes drifted in your direction several times.
“Teru, I was wondering if you could let me borrow your notes from second hour? The teacher was speaking so fast, ahaha~. I don’t know how you keep up, really!”
“Oh? Of course, I don’t mind. If you’d please return them when you’re done though,” Teru spoke, grabbing a notebook from his bag, then handing them to her. He’d surely let you borrow his notes too, so… she wasn’t special. Though it was a bit surprising that someone that bright couldn’t keep up with the teacher’s far-too-fast method of teaching. When you opened your mouth to make a comment you already knew you shouldn’t, the teacher entered, as if prompting you to keep your emotions in check.
The rest of the day passed nearly the same as the first half did. Teru’s attention constantly elsewhere, though he did seem to at least try to keep it on you. Hey, you were used to that much… everyone wanted his attention. You couldn’t be the one to deny them of it. Yes, it was normal. That’s what you told yourself, as you stepped into the hallway, making your way towards the student council room. Finally, you’d have a chance to be with Teru, no one out to beg for his attention. Well- Akane would be there, but- honestly, you were plainly aware of his… distaste towards your boyfriend. Really, you didn’t mind it. At least it was someone not trying to take any attention you got at school away from you.
“Yeah! With the way that girl seems to be all over him! I think they’re dating?”
“No, no, isn’t he dating (Y/N)?”
“I think he was? But, he doesn’t really seem to spend as much time with her, you know.”
You shut your locker, the sound echoing much louder than you thought you intended. The conversation ceased, as the two engaged in it glanced in your direction, one muttering some profanity under their breath. Still, you picked up your bag, not wanting to drag two strangers into your personal business. All you had to do was establish that you were the one dating Teru, right? And the first step was… making sure Teru still wanted to date. Despite how you tried to calm and reassure yourself as your legs carried you quickly to the school council room, you could feel a mix of frustration, fear, sadness, and insecurity bubbling up in your stomach. Why was he spending so much time with her? Was she better than you? Did he like her more than you? Of course, how could someone like him choose you…? If you were in his shoes, you were sure you’d pick the other girl…
Soon, you stood in front of the room. Though you reached for the doorknob confidently at first, you froze once your hand was about to rest on it. Nerves were practically eating at you, your heart racing so quickly that you felt dizzy. Heck- when was the last time you were this nervous? When was the last time your emotions ran this rampant?
Gathering your emotions as best as you could, you opened the door.
“(Y/N), good afternoon,” Teru greeted, giving you his usual, sweet smile. Did he smile at the other girl like that?
You didn’t want to lose that smile…
“Teru,” You muttered, voice cracking a bit as tears finally filled your eyes. Instantly, those smiling eyes of his were filled with concern. He was so easily concerned for you. Did he worry for her that easily?
“(Y/N)? What happened-? What’s wrong?” He questioned, standing up and rushing over towards you. Once you noticed that Akane hadn’t arrived yet, Teru reached behind you, one arm resting on your shoulder as he locked any potential intruders out. He knew you wouldn’t want anyone to bother you, if something was upsetting you enough to cry like this in front of him.
“Teru, do you still want to be with me?”
“What? (Y/N), of course-” “Be honest, Teru. If you don’t wanna, then don’t lie to me, please. I understand. I’m not as pretty as her- and I’m not as smart, I know. And she’s popular, like you. And she can talk to people easily, and she’s fit, and thin, and she’s got a pretty, normal smile… a-and I know I’m nothing like her, so I understand. She and I are complete opposites, Teru, so I’m positive she’s more your type.”
“(Y/N), calm down,” Teru spoke, both of his hands now resting on your shoulders, thumbs moving comfortingly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I assure you-”
“You’ve been skipping on things we’ve done since we became friends to spend time with her, Teru. Just today, the two of you spent time together during lunch-”
“Her? (Y/N), darling, you’re joking.”
Your eyes filled further with tears, as you shook your head in frustration. “I’m not joking, Teru!”
“(Y/N), please, sweetheart. Calm down, let me explain, alright? Here, let’s sit down?”
Teru led you to a chair, sitting you in it carefully, then crouching next to you, his hands holding both of yours.
“She’s just trying to get some extracurricular things done, relating to her education. Yes, when she needs help, which I’ll admit has been frequently lately, I told her to go to me. I wasn’t expecting her to need this much help, but I didn’t want to go back on my word. Here, if you’d like, I’ll explain to her that I’m a bit too busy to help all the time. I’ll get Akane to step in a bit, is that alright?”
You sniffled, thinking about what he said. Still, as you processed it, you nodded. Poor Akane indeed, but… you felt slightly relieved.
“Next, you know you’re more my type than anyone, (Y/N). Really, sweetie, I only show her basic human kindness. Even when she gets irritating… with you, I never feel annoyed or irritated. Plus, I can actually express how I feel around you- listen, would I admit to anyone else that I find one of our classmates annoying at times?”
“I’m sure you’d tell anyone how you felt about Akane,” You joked lightheartedly, laughing to yourself. Teru’s slight smile grew to a grin, as he closed his eyes.
“Mmm, maybe? But he’s a different story. Still, I love you, (Y/N). You’re plenty smart- and, if you don’t think so, then who cares? Your lack of confidence in yourself means I get to help you study- and you always end up doing just fine. You’re more than plenty gorgeous- I love everything about you. Your smile, your hair, your skin, your body type, anything and everything. You’re perfect, (Y/N). Perfect for the world, and absolutely perfect for me.”
This time, when you felt your eyes get watery, they weren’t tears of sadness or worry. When you hugged Teru, sniffling lightly once again, he could feel you smile against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry for assuming things, Teru-”
“Ah-ah. No need to apologize, (Y/N). Really, you have no reason to apologize… you’re fine, darling.”
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gucciwins · 3 years
Text
Roses and Romeo
Harry and Y/N come back to their hometown after eight years to open up a time capsule they buried ten years ago as high school sophomores. 
Word count: 20,534
A/N: Hello beautiful friends, hope you’ve been well. I’m really excited to share this story. It is a former high school sweethearts to lovers. Thank you to @havethetimeofyourstyles Jill for creating timetravelathon and allowing me to participate. I am very sorry it’s later but I finished!!! I do hope you all love it. 
Also this story is my baby, because i’ve never hit 20k before so this was new and exciting. I just had so many ideas for the story.
please come and tell me your favorite part!
_____
DECEMBER 1989 - SENIOR YEAR 
It's December, and all that is on her mind is how the grass would look covered in snow. The cold breeze, an extra jacket to stay warm, a blanket to bundle up with her favorite person. Safe to say, she can only imagine it because California, specifically Southern California, isn't so keen on giving her this one gift she asks for each year.
A huge smile spreads over her face as soon as she sees her house up ahead. 
It's not huge, but it is perfect for Y/N. She has the best memories growing up in a house full of love and laughter and the most gorgeous flowers. The iris and tulips bloomed extra bright this year. There is never a day her mom isn't fixing the garden. Her mother always makes sure she has fresh flowers in her room; right now, for the week, she has purple tulips. Also makes a lovely gift to take to her boyfriend. Harry always blushes when she brings him flowers. 
It also gets her extra kisses. 
Harry parks right outside but doesn't rush out to open her door like always, so she turns to look at him. He's tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; she patiently waits for him to speak up. 
She'd wait all day if she could; he has a beautiful face, one that she will never get tired of gazing at. She especially loves that curl that flops down over his forehead; as much as he pushes it away, it bounces back as if he never moved it.
"It's Friday, love." Harry begins, "I think you should consider coming with me to a party." 
She pouts. "No, I want to listen to that new record my dad found, and I also have lots to study. Big exam on Monday."
"You're always studying." He groans. 
She frowns. "Not true! Calculus is my biggest enemy. Mr. Leanza is not easy on us." 
"Okay, Miss 101%." He pokes her cheek. 
She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance. 
"I'm not going to go just for you to tease me." 
Harry leans over and steals a kiss before she can dodge him. "Let's play a game." He sees her roll her eyes but asks her to hear him out. 
She gestures for him to go on. "I go in and quiz you. Zero wrong out of all the flashcards you have in that bag of yours, and I get to take you with me. I already have parent permission. I'll have you know."
She narrows her eyes at him. Not ever surprised that her parents agreed, they trust Harry. He's given them no reason not to. She's about to tell him, no, but he gives her a big smile. His dimples are on full display, and she finds herself agreeing. 
She mutters a small "okay." 
Harry smiles, knowing how she likes to make him work for it, but he really enjoys finding new ways to win her over. He might have cheated, flashing her his dimples that he knows she can't resist, but he never said he played fair. "Only if I get to drive Nessie." 
Nessie is Harry's classy white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230 SL. She was never interested in cars, but Harry speaks so fondly of his car that she has come to learn so much about it and loves it just as much as Harry and her father together taught her how to change a tire and check the oil on Nessie. They want to prepare her for anything, and she is thankful because Harry likes to test her from time to time. 
Harry smirked, knowing how much she loves driving. She loves it but does not cave in letting her parents get her a car. Her parents have wanted to get her a car since she got her license at sixteen, but Y/N claims it is too much money to spend.
Her parents tell her they have saved enough for her and her education. It's like raising an only child. They remind Y/N all the time since her brother has graduated university and now lives in San Francisco as an engineer in a growing company. 
Harry has been meeting discreetly behind her back with her parents on gifting her a car this Christmas. Although he fears that having a car will mean less of him driving her around. Meaning they will spend less time together and fewer backseat make-out sessions, but on an upside also means he'd have to help her christen it. 
"Darling, you dating me for my car?" 
"Yes, dearie. I started dating you back in our first year because you had Nessie, not because of those dimples and lame jokes.
"You told me you love them!" Harry gasps, offended. 
"Tell you what you want to hear." She shrugs, getting out of the car. 
"Hurting my feelings, love." Harry now stands in front of her taking her bag from her hand and closing the door behind her. 
"Let's get inside." She pushes him to walk in quickly, knowing her parents aren't home yet and her mom isn't due for another thirty minutes, and she would really love to squeeze in a make-out session. 
"Compliment me, then we can go in." Harry stands firm in front of her, a teasing glimmer in his emerald eyes. 
She reaches up and places her hands on his cheek, planting a small kiss on his nose.  
"You're a dreamboat, Styles." She whispers.
Harry can't help the blush that seems to be taking over his entire face. 
She pecks his lips and skips around him. "Let's get studying, then you can help me pick my outfit for later." 
Harry shakes himself out of the trance she always seems to leave him in. "God knows you need it
JUNE 1998 - SUMMER HOME 
Y/N had always known she was a bit crazy but honestly, deciding on making a 44-hour road trip from Massachusetts to California, where her hometown of Aurora takes the cake. 
Yes, she knows how unsafe it is to be a woman on the road alone, but she saved up for the trip and would be spending the entire summer home for the first time since graduating high school. A plus was that she knows the map really well, having studied it hard like one of her anatomy books. Also, helped that her father quizzed her on what roads and exits she would be taking. 
She's a good driver; her father always told her everyone else is who she had to watch out for. Honestly, she thanked her family for pushing her to drive more, and now she loves being behind the wheel. 
The road was never-ending, taking her where she wanted, and currently, she was aiming for home. 
It's four hours until she reaches home, a home she has not lived in for over eight years. A place that holds her most precious memories as well as most heartbreaking.
She's driving with the window down, enjoying the breeze, knowing the heat will only get worse the closer to home. A car passes next to her; she looks over briefly, taking in the vehicle's blue color. It does look a bit old; as the driver accelerates their speed, she notices that it's a Mercedes-Benz but can't make the model seeing as the driver must be eager to reach their destination now speeding off. If she's honest, those types of cars remind her of one person, and that's how she knows she'll never escape because she finds meaning for them in anything and everything life has to offer. 
The last few hours on the road pass relatively quickly because the next thing she knows, she's parking her Jeep Cherokee in what she used to call her parking. This car has spent nine years with her and runs like a dream. It was a gift from her parents, and at the time, she was nervous about the gesture but really grew to love it. It also came in handy, seeing as she now lives far from home and visits as much as she can. She hopes to make more trips up now that she has residency but knows it will be harder to get holidays off. 
Her parents understand; they do. She's following her dreams and achieving each one, and that is all they could ever ask for. 
Y/N gets out and gets her suitcase; it has her essentials and anything she's missing; she can come out later to get it, well her father will most likely fight her and do it on his own. 
Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open. Her mother doesn't give her any time to react and simply wraps her in a hug. A tight one full of love and happiness, an embrace she will never get tired of. 
"Hi, momma," Y/N murmurs, not at all ready to let go.
"Hello, my sweet girl. It's good to have you home." 
"It's good being here. Feel younger already." 
"Ah, same here. Come inside; I have lemonade served up and muffins because they are your favorite." 
Y/N smiles, knowing how much her mother made sure to have her well-fed always. No matter what she told her, she wanted her with meat on her bones. This also meant anyone who she brought home was given a big meal as well. Telling everyone and anyone they were too thin then proceeding to provide them with a second serving. This was her mother's way of getting into people's hearts through their stomachs. 
Y/N walked into the kitchen and smiled at how nothing had changed. Hanging on the refrigerator were her three graduation photos: high school at seventeen, ready to take the world by storm, at twenty-one graduating with the highest honor from Columbia University, and the last was graduating Harvard Medical school this past spring. She knew the next to join would be a photo of her on the first day of her residency. 
"Your father refuses to take any down; when your brother comes into town, he complains. Your dad shuts him up by telling him to go be a doctor, and then they could talk." 
It warms Y/N's heart that her parents are proud of all the accomplishments she has made. It's been a tough road, but nothing stops her until she accomplishes her goals, and starting her residency is the next stop. 
"Like dad's office is covered full of his accomplishments since entering that job in San Francisco." She jokes, transitioning the conversation away from herself.
"The oldest child always seems to be the most jealous." Her mother reminds her.
After eating a muffin or two, her mom sends her off on a walk, not wanting her to be cooped up in the house on her first day back. She has always loved walking around. It's something she did when her friends weren't able to offer her a ride. Also, her parents would walk her to the park every weekend growing up to run around in the grass and ruin more clothes with grass stains.
It's no surprise that she arrives at the entrance of the town's park. It looks like there is no one around until she really enters and finds a family seated on a picnic planet as their youngest tries feeding their oldest strawberries. It's a sweet sight. 
She keeps going, not at all wanting to disturb; soon enough, she enters the part of the park no one really visits and finds the old park bench with lots of initials carved in the wood, hers included. It creaks as she sits on it; she smiles, knowing that it is something that has not changed. 
There aren't many flowers in this corner, just a big willow tree offering her shade that she very much enjoys. 
It's nice being home, she's missed it, but she has loved living in new places, making new friends and connections. She spent her first four years in New York, and she loved the environment. It was a university filled with thousands of people never seeing the same face twice in the halls. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere but not here, not at home. Everyone stops her for a conversation. They talk to her as if no time has happened, as if she was still the young girl who helped her mom tend the garden each weekend. 
In a way, she always will be. 
She wanted this time to explore and travel because she knows this where she'll come back one day to lay her roots. She and her future husband will marry here, maybe at the botanical garden with the beautiful flower arch all year round. It's where she sees her children growing up and running around as she once did. She's got her residency to finish up, but she's looking forward to when she can call Aurora home again. 
After sitting for a while, she decides she will come back with a book or two next time. If she's going to be here all summer might as well start by doing some reading on books she has not gotten around to reading. Y/N is thinking about leaving when her eyes spot a couple coming down a hidden path, a small daisy behind the girl's ear, her arm tight around her boyfriend's arm. He's got the biggest smile on his face. They look so lost in each other, one can feel their love. 
It reminds her of when she used to do that. When she did that with Harry before they broke up and never spoke again. It breaks her heart, but it also brings back some of the best memories. He'd always bring her here just so they could talk for hours so that she'd tell him more about the flowers and to kiss in private. 
One of her favorite memories is when they were in their third year of high school, and he asked to meet for a surprise. She stands up and shakes the memory away, not wanting to get lost in her thoughts. It's harder to do now that she's home and she can see him everywhere she looks. 
With that last thought brushed away, she decides to walk back home. She's got a few days to herself before meeting with everyone; there was the big reason she was back in town. 
It was time to open a box of memories. 
APRIL 1989 - JUNIOR YEAR
Harry is up to something. 
She suspects something because he made her walk to the park when he would always be quick to offer her a ride. Sure, it's only a ten-minute walk from her house, but he always says something along the lines that not everyone is as kind as they seem. 
It's April, and the flowers are in full bloom. She hears the birds singing, and she swears they sing of the beauty of the flowers. It's also bee season, meaning lots will be around the park, and as much as she loves them, Harry has a big fear of them. Y/N has mentioned various times that they don't mean to harm him; it can just happen. Especially if they get startled.
Y/N takes note of a new flower; it's a small white four-petaled flower that grows in fragrant clusters. They smell divine, but she knows she has never seen them. She really wishes she had her father's polaroid on her to take a photo and show her mother. Any other day she would turn back to do just that, but Harry is waiting on her. 
She walks to the back of the park where Harry has claimed their spot, their initials carved in the bench make sure of that. He's standing next to the viola's, and they stand dull next to Harry. 
"Hiya, angel." Harry greets hands hiding behind his back.
"Hello." She greets softly; Harry can easily note she's nervous. Any other time she would have given him the biggest hug, but right now is keeping an appropriate distance. 
"Are you nervous?" He teases, which honestly calms her down because if he's teasing her, it surely means he doesn't want to break up so she can toss that idea right out. 
The last few ideas left are that it's an important anniversary and she's forgotten, or he just wanted to be romantic. 
She hopes it's the latter. 
"Not so much anymore." She replies truthfully, stepping closer, desperately wanting to give him a hug. He looks warm in his knitted baby blue sweater; she knows it was a Christmas gift from his grandmother, his new favorite. 
 If he's not wearing his cardigan, he's wearing his varsity jacket, but it's at the dry cleaners because when it's not in his possession, it's in hers. She likes the heaviness of it, how small it makes her look. Harry is the perfect height, standing at what she thinks is 6'0, but she can't be too sure. His broad shoulders only seem to grow stronger each summer after returning from two weeks of football camp. At this point, she wears his varsity jacket more than he does. Sure, she can get an academic one she has more than enough patches to choose from, but it just isn't the same; besides, she rather spend her money on books and records. 
Harry tells her his favorite thing about her wearing his jacket is that it has his last name. He knows marriage is long down the line, but he does hope to share the same last name one day. 
It's his most prominent dream.
But currently, his big dream at the age of seventeen is asking the prettiest girl to prom. 
Harry brings his hands forward to reveal a dozen lavender roses in his hand. Y/N gasps at their beauty, not at all expecting this. They are gorgeous, and she can't wait to show them off to her mom as soon as she gets home. 
"My love," Harry starts closing the gap between them and bringing her left hand to his lips to place a soft kiss before setting it back down to rest close to his heart that is beating just for her. "Will you do me the honor of being my date to prom?"
She smiles wide, not at all expecting him to ask, let alone for it to be this romantic and intimate. 
"Yes, of course." She wraps her arms around his neck, and Harry spins her around, letting out a small holler of excitement. 
"The roses are beautiful; they must have cost you a pretty penny," Y/N tells him as soon as he sets her down so she can admire them again.
"Well, darling. You're worth every one. It also pays that your mom gets on well with the town's florist." 
She giggles, nodding. 
"Now, how about we walk over to my car and celebrate with a make-out." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her, knowing he needs very little to convince her. 
"Harry!" She chastises, looking around to see if anyone heard, but the park is empty, not a soul in sight. "How about we take a stroll around the park, then we'll see afterward." 
"You're a little tease, love." She leans in and pecks his lips two times. He tries for a third, but she hurries off. 
"Come on, dove. We've got to see the rest of the flowers that are blooming." Y/N's voice is full of excitement at the chance of walking around the park for the next hour, hand in hand with her boyfriend. 
Harry grins happily, following after her, he may be young, but he knows he will do whatever is in his power to always see her happy and smiling.
JUNE 1998 - HOME
"Dad!" She yells as soon as she walks in the door; she sees him stand quickly from his seat on the couch and embraces her in a big hug.
"My baby is home." He whispers. 
"I missed you." 
"I missed you too, sweetheart."
"How was work?" 
"Awful, when I knew I had my two favorite girls at home waiting for me."
Y/N laughs. "Always a sap, dad." 
Her mother makes her presence known. "This is a lovely sight. I've missed it." 
"Yes, as have I." Her father gives her one last kiss to her head and lets her go. 
"Any plans?" Her mother questions walking back from the kitchen, placing a cup of tea for Y/N on an old family coaster. 
Y/N takes a seat on the couch, as do both her parents wanting to carry on the conversation.
"I'm meeting Sarah and Sydney for breakfast one of these days, most likely going to spend the entire day together. Then, everyone else won't be coming around until the week after. Think it will be on Friday, seeing as that is what worked for everyone's schedule. 
"Happy to see your friends." Her mom states, the wide smile on Y/N’s face confirming her statement.
"Yes, chatting isn't as easy as when we were in high school seeing each other that day. There are lots of emails sent back and forth between us." 
"Glad you girls stayed closed. Was worried you would all drift away." She reaches forward to squeeze Y/N's knee. 
Y/N knew she meant it about Harry. How no one thought anything would come between them that they would make it through university and settle down soon after. Oh, how wrong they all were. As much as they hoped for the best, they were each other's downfall. 
"It's a bit late; I'm going to shower and head to bed instead."
"Before you go, can I say something?"
Y/N recognizes the gleam in her mother's eye and nods, knowing she has to get this off her chest. 
"It's sadly a man's world out there, but you have managed to make it your own." She reaches forward and takes Y/N's hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss before settling it in her lap. Y/N smiles. "I know you long to love and share it with someone, and I want you to remember that the person for you is out there. As a mother, I know these things, and I wish you nothing but the greatest things in life, but they all come when we are ready for it."
Tears well up in Y/N's eyes, she nods. Not replying to her mother's words because she knows if she speaks, she will cry. 
"Lorelai, you made her cry." He whispers, pulling both women into a squished hug. 
"I've always had your father, and I hope you find that someone for yourself." 
She pulls back and wipes her tears away. "Thank you." Y/N leaves her parents with a final hug.
She heads up the stairs to the room that holds all the memories she has kept locked away. In her home, there are no longer any photos of her friends or of him. Not like before, where they were spotted on every wall displayed for all to see. Her mother took them off after she left for university. It broke her mother's heart to see her suffer such a big heartbreak. Harry had become like another son to her parents, so they were all sharing the heartbreak. She missed everything about him, but it has been years since they last spoke. 
It's been eight years since they last talked, last kissed but not the last she's thought of him. He's coming for the time capsule opening, and as much as she tries to convince herself she's going to be alright, she knows she's not. Yes, she's moved on. She has built a life without him in it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. 
All she can do is count the days until she leaves Aurora and goes back to the comfort of her apartment in Massachusetts. 
____
It's been a week since she's been home, and she knows everyone will show up in two days. The friends she was sure she'd never lose touch with but slowly did with time no matter how each tried, but life moves on. 
Y/N is nervous to see everyone. She's changed in the last eight years, but so has everyone else. She misses what they used to have in high school but honestly, getting to hear what everyone has been up to will be fun. Who knows, it might feel as if not time has passed at all? 
She met up with Sarah and Sydney earlier for breakfast at the old dinner. The girls spent a good five minutes embraced in a hug before they took their seats. They ordered too much to eat but, to no surprise, finished it all by the end of their conversation. 
The time together was spent mostly catching up and jumping from topic to topic. She did feel she was asked one too many questions about starting her residency and how they will be addressing her as a "doctor."
Y/N brought up Sarah's love life wanting to hear how they were doing. Sarah and Mitch did not start dating until after graduating high school, finding out they were going to the same university just an hour away from their hometown. Everyone was aware of Mitch's heart eyes for Sarah, but she was too focused on her internship, always wanting to do good. One can imagine how happy everyone was when news spread that Sarah asked Mitch out and was quick to say yes. Now eight years later, were happily moved in together. Sarah is a music engineer, and Mitch a music teacher at the local high school; as mellow as Mitch is, he gets on well with the teens. 
Having focused on love and Sydney quickly saying nothing new was going on with her, just that she was more in love than she could have ever imagined, it was time to hound Y/N, it seems. They asked about her love life and how good-looking the boys in Massachusetts are.
Y/N told them how nonexistent her love life has been since she graduated high school. It's not something she ever made time for, and her friends understand as much as they hate that for her. Sydney did not stop herself from making a joke on what seems to be Y/N's long dry spell. She shrugged it off, not at all bothered. Y/N assured them she knows how to take care of her own needs until the right person comes along. They all knew who she hoped would be the right person, but they knew better than to bring him up.
Once again, there was a change of pace. Sarah surprised them with tickets to Spice Girls at a sold-out Madison Square Garden concert on July first. Six tickets, a perfect number for their friend group. It was perfect, honestly. Sarah figured they'd road trip up the last week of June and could stay in Y/N's shared apartment with her roommate, who would not be home yet. Then take a train up to New York for the show. Also, told them they'd have hotel rooms for the night already, having an idea there would be an after-party. Y/N was all for it as was Sydney. 
Y/N has always loved concerts; it's something she saves for not bothered to spend some money to enjoy a great show for one of her favorite artists, especially in good company. The long queues were a downfall, but not everything is perfect. She has gone to concerts and knows that one can make the best experience out of floor seats and nosebleeds. Artists never fail to amaze. 
It reminds her of the first concert she ever went to that Harry took her to their senior year. The ticket stub she has pinned next to a polaroid that a stranger offered to take for them. It was before the show, and they had matching grins. It's still one of her favorites, and the reason she doesn't take it down is too good of a memory to keep hidden away. 
While seeing Sarah and Sydney was good and everything she hoped it would be, it did not prepare her to see the others. She had not talked to Zac in a long while, having no idea what he was up to. Mitch is quiet and only says hello when she has called with Sarah and Harry; well, it's like she doesn't exist to him. Not since their last day together. 
Y/N has two days to prepare.
Two days to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to see Harry. 
AUGUST 1989 - SENIOR YEAR
Many people told her to enjoy her high school years because they would fly by, and she accepted the advice and made memories to last a lifetime in the three years leading up to her senior year. Her friends and family have made each year memorial. Still, there is something about senior year, and knowing that it is their last year before university has her excited and anxious. 
Harry repeatedly told her how he wanted it to be their best year yet and promised to do just that. She has no doubt in her mind he will accomplish that in whatever way. He's managed to do so year after year. 
Harry made sure to pick her up each morning, never wanting her to worry about walking alone to school or arriving late. He made sure he knocked on her door every morning.
Depending on the time he showed up, he was ushered in for a homemade breakfast, or sometimes he said a quick hello before grabbing her hand and rushing out the door because they were running behind schedule, and Harry knew he could not make her arrive late. 
One thing that was always constant was how he carried her bag to his car and opened her door. He made sure she was settled before reaching down for his morning kiss. Sometimes, he went as far as putting on her seatbelt, just wanting to be close to her. 
Today was Monday, and he usually comes in, but today he selfishly told her to grab him a slice of toast because he was in a hurry. She didn't question him and sent her apologies. Her mom kissed her cheek and told her not to worry about it. A true angel, her mother was.  
Harry slipped her bag over his shoulder before ushering her in. She felt a little flustered with his urgency but let him be. He stole a quick kiss before going to the driver's seat. 
"What's got you in a rush today?" She asks, genuinely worried. 
He smirks, looking over at her. He seems calm, not that they've driven away from her house. "Thought we could use the extra time for some kisses. You deprived me this Sunday." He pouts at her, waiting for the light to turn green. 
"H, you know I have dinner with my grandparents one Sunday a month." She chastises him.
"I know, darling, doesn't mean I like it." He tells her. "Had to suffer a Sunday alone." 
"Well, at least I know how I can make it up to you." She teases. 
Arriving at school, Harry parks toward the back under a shady tree, one far away from everyone. 
"Want to sit on my lap, baby?" He asks, spreading his thighs, and as much as she wants to, she shouldn't knowing very well what he can convince her to do when in his lap. 
"Later, H." She promises. 
"I'm holding you to that, angel." He unclips her seatbelt, quickly placing his lips on hers. 
She feels how smooth his lips are and knows he stole her cherry lip balm again. "Harry, that's the third lip balm you've taken in two weeks." She pulls away, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip that he juts out. He gives her thumb a soft kiss. 
"Swear I was going to put it back this time." He moves closer, placing a kiss on her neck, slowly trailing down, pushing his varsity jacket down her shoulder, exposing more of her neck. Her black corduroy pants and white acrylic sweater, and her favorite worn-out Mary Jane's mother have been begging her to change out. She likes to think it adds an extra flair to her outfit. "You drive me crazy when you wear my jacket," He whispers in her ear.
"Does that mean you're always going crazy?" She whispers back, knowing he mostly wears the jacket during game days. 
"Always make me lose my mind." 
After a fun half-hour of making out, Y/N pushes him back, knowing she has matching bruised lips. She loves that everyone can see what she did to him. She also may have sucked a little too hard on the skin right below his collar, the love bite just barely visible. She pulls down the sun visor, looking in the mirror to straighten out her hair, that Harry just loves digging his fingers into. 
"Baby, what did you do?" Harry says, looking at the fresh mark just by his collar bone. 
She smirks, knowing very well that Harry loves when she marks him. Not doing it very often in fear of getting caught by their parents. 
"Got to remind those girls that stare at you who you belong to." She reapplies her lip balm before layering the new lip gloss her mom got for her the other day. 
"You know I've only got eyes for you, love." He says, caressing her cheek softly. 
His gentle tone of voice always makes her soft, but it also might be that his accent seems to stand out even more. 
"I know, H." She leans in to give him one more kiss but pulls back quick enough to not let him deepen it. 
"Sneaky, baby." He clicks his tongue at her, rushing out and rounding the car to open her door, offering her his hand. 
She gladly accepts it, placing a kiss on both cheeks before landing on his lips. 
"I love you, Styles." She whispers against his lips, eyes closed as she tries to catch her breath. 
"And I love you, my darling angel." He softly nuzzles her nose, causing her to let out a small giggle. 
"Let's get you to class." He says, throwing his arm over her shoulder pulling her in close. 
Harry is smiling wide; she takes notice as she looks up. He looks extra giddy. 
Too giddy, and it has nothing to do with their steamy make-out. 
She narrows her eyes at him, "what's got you extra smiley?" 
"Nothing, happy all the time."
"Nuh, uh. Styles. I know you. Fess up!" She stops walking, wanting him to answer her.
"It's because my girl marked me up today for all to see. Makes me feel special." He answers smoothly. 
Y/N looks at him in suspicion, not buying a single word he's saying, "I'm onto you, Styles."
Harry lets out a deep breath before stepping close to her. "Let me surprise you, darling." 
She instantly relaxes. "Okay, only because you know I like surprises."
"Thank you." He rests his forehead against her, happy to be in her space, forgetting all around him until he hears a shout of his name. 
Moment over, it seems.
"Let's get you to English Literature," Harry murmurs, intertwining his hand with hers making sure she's close by as Sarah greets her.
_____
It's lunchtime when they walk hand in hand to the lunch tables where Mitch and Sarah sit, stalling their conversion to greet them. Before she can take a seat next to Sarah, Harry pulls her in his lap. He leans in close to her ear and whispers that he'll give her his chocolate chip cookies Anne had baked. She silently agrees, grabbing the bag Harry was offering her. What he didn't disclose is that his mum had sent them specifically for her. They have three empty seats, but she can see Zac and Sydney approaching, carrying food trays. Meaning, neither had lunch prepared for the day. 
Y/N leans back against Harry getting comfortable, knowing that he wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. The chatter begins with how their weekend went and what this week's activities are. She knows she doesn't have much to do this week; her club meetings don't meet until next week. Harry has football practice all week, meaning she either visits the library or finds a ride home. She doesn't mind staying and watching his training, but Harry hates knowing she sits there alone for so long. He rather have her be home warm and cozy than on the cold bleachers.
Harry asks for her attention by placing a kiss on her neck, his tell sign that he's feeling left out. 
"Yes, H," She whispers for only him to hear. 
"Need your attention. Don't like sharing." 
"You're extra needy this Monday, dove." Y/N has his hands in her lap as she begins to trace circles on his palm; it's something that soothes him instantly. 
"I just want to know our plans this weekend." He kisses her cheek, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Rather you get parent permission early on than last-minute giving them a chance to say no." 
Harry's right; there are occasions where her parents have said no, and Y/N finds herself sneaking out from her window that conveniently has an old tree that makes it all the easier. 
Her parents trust them together, but if they really knew what happened behind locked doors, they would think otherwise.
"Do you want to go kiss a little?" He wants her to say yes. 
"At your car or in the abandoned hallway?" 
"What's quieter?" 
"The hallway, and it's closer." 
Harry nods, gently grabbing her waist and helping her stand. "We'll see you later," Harry says, interrupting their conversations. 
"Oh, Styles, you've corrupted her." Zac teases very well, grasping what they were about to go do.
"Think she's corrupted me. Who knew angels could be so dangerous?" Harry teases in front of their friends. 
Y/N feels her face warm, bidding them all a quiet goodbye. Harry, having rendered her a bit speechless. She swears she never knows what is going to come out of his mouth. 
Harry all but drags her to the hallway. He gently pushes her back against the wall next to an older poster for the school play. Y/n glances down at his lips before looking into his eyes.
"Did you really bring me here to kiss, or are you spilling the surprise?" Her eyes are big and filled with hope. 
"Sorry, baby. Really did want some kisses from you." He pulls her closer wanting no space in between them. "Really missed you. Can't believe we only have one class together." 
"It's like they know you wouldn't pay attention to me in a class with you." She teases.
"Kissy." He pouts his lips, feeling like they've talked enough. 
Who is she to deny him when he asks so sweetly. 
Y/N always felt like time stopped when she kissed Harry. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her knees grew weak, and as if Harry knew, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her up. Harry pulls away slowly, a smile growing on his face. He would never tire of kissing her. 
Harry leans in and nuzzles his head in the crook of her necks, slowly beginning to place kiss after kiss before he finds his favorite spot and begins to suck lightly, pulling a surprised moan from her. 
She pushes him back. "No love bites that high. It will keep us locked up in the house all weekend supervised. 
Harry tenses at the thought, knowing fully well her parents would do that, having done it before when they first started dating, and he thought more with the thing in his pants than his brain. "I guess I'll just have to bruise these pretty lips."
Never one to tell him no, a small nod is enough to make Harry lean in and take her breath away. He'd kiss her forever if he could, but the last fifteen minutes of lunch break would have to do for now. 
_____
Monday's always drag on; she goes home, does homework, reads a book, and waits for dinner to be ready. Most days, she joins her mother in cooking; both like conversing about their days. More than ever, they have lots to talk about, from holiday plans to the universities she is applying for. She has saved up allowance allowing her to use it for more universities than the average three. If it was up to her, she'd send one to all the universities because that is how confident she is not only about her grades but how she comes off as a student on paper. 
Dumping most of her books in her locker, she keeps Calculus in her bag, knowing the sooner that homework gets done, the less stress she'll have. Just as she shuts her locker, she hears footsteps approaching her. 
"Is my girl ready to go?" 
"She is." 
Harry swings his arm over her shoulder, and they begin to walk out the school doors that are kept wide open. There are groups of students lingering talking to another, and in the distance can hear cars driving away eager to get away. 
Y/N smiles at a girl who sends her a wave, recognizing her from her English course. Harry walks them under a tree, a reasonable distance away from everyone because, as she has come to know, he likes kissing her in private. 
"Our first game is in two weeks." Harry reminds her.
"Yes, exciting." 
"Will you be there, or is there a test to study for?" He teases. 
She frowns and takes him by the lapels of his varsity jacket that she gave back to him at the end of lunch because she claimed it was losing his smell. 
"Don't start, Harry. You know I've never missed a game, and I won't start now." 
"Was only teasing, love." 
"Didn't like it." 
"Sorry, love. Forgive me? He pouts, wanting her to smile at him instead of frown. 
"You know my price." Y/N shrugs. 
He sighs, nodding his head three times before moving to get on his knees, toying with unbuttoning her pants. 
She gasps and jumps away. "Harry!"
Harry can't help but smirk, "Isn't that always the price."
"I just wanted a kiss; no need to make a scene." He shrugs. "Now, don't you have a practice to get to?"
"Ugh, I do." Harry groans, dreading practice knowing the coach likes to run them twice as much for not working out on the weekends. 
"Give me a kiss, please. Then you'll come by later, right?"
"That is correct." He leans in, giving her three consecutive pecks on her lips. 
"Who's taking you home again?" He asks, wanting to make sure she's safe. 
"Sarah and Mitch." 
"Right, good. Well, off I go, poppet." 
"Bye." 
Harry turns and heads toward the field, where he can see the freshman already setting up drills and getting the water jug out to the bench. He's only taken a few steps when his angel's voice stops him. 
"Dove," 
Harry can feel his cheeks turn bright red at the term of endearment. He turns and takes two steps back to her. "Yes, lovie." 
"Will you give me one more kiss?" Her voice soft and innocent but the gleam in her eye is anything but that. 
Harry takes the last step towards her and holds her face with both hands reaching down and kissing her passionately. He pulls away after what feels like a lifetime, slowly as he tries to steady his breathing. 
"I love you," she whispers.
He presses a final kiss to her forehead. "And I love you." Harry turns and begins to jog away, recognizing he's got a limited time to get dressed and out on the field to warm up. He's a few feet away but turns his head to see her watching him still. "Tell your mom I'll be joining you for dinner." 
She nods, letting him know she heard him before he turns a corner and out of her eyesight. Only then does she go in search of her waiting friends who will bring her home. 
______
After Y/N informed her mother that Harry was going to join them for dinner, she got up to cook, wanting everything to be ready for when her father and Harry arrived, seeing it would be around the same time.
Y/N made herself scarce as her mother was in no mood to converse. Instead, she wanted to cook, and maybe if she planned her time accordingly, she would do dessert. 
Dinner time came around quickly, meaning she was lost in homework for a good few hours. She walked downstairs wanting to help her mom set the table when the front door swung open. 
"Hello, father!" Y/N bounced over to him, giving him a big hug and a peck on his cheek, one that he happily returned.
"Hi, my sweet girl." 
"Mom cooked a delicious dinner. We're just waiting on Harry." Y/N told him, knowing he's hungry from a long day at work.
"Won't have to wait long; Harry was just parking when I was on the steps." 
Y/N's eyes lit up at hearing that he arrived. Her father chuckled, "I'll go say hello to my wife, dinner in ten, okay." 
Y/N walks out to see Harry coming up the stairs in a cozy blue emblem sweater with denim Levi jeans and paired with his old white Chuck All-Stars. She smiled because he went home to shower, not wanting to wear his clothes from earlier or come over smelling like sweat, not that she minded. 
"You know we don't mind the sweat, H," She tells him as he's climbing up the last few steps. 
He shrugs. "I know, but I am a guest in your home and would never dare disrespect your parents and you, of course." 
Y/N grins. "Four years dating, and you continue to prove to be the most perfect boyfriend." 
Harry looks away, feeling bashful. "I wouldn't go that far." 
"I would, dove." Y/N closes the gap between them. "Now, I say you kiss me before mom calls us in for dinner." 
"It would be my greatest pleasure." 
____
Dinner was a success, conversation always flowing well. Y/N likes to sit back and listen to her parents talk with Harry as if they hadn't seen him in forever when he is more than likely to be here every other day. Her father is a big fan of football; he too was once a player. No, he wasn't quarterback; he was right-wing and helped his team make it to state championships. 
The high school team has won three state championships since Harry's first year as a freshman. They counted on making it the fourth year; no doubt in anybody's mind it would happen. Y/N picked up on her father's excitement going on and on about the first game and how it was the most important one now that scouts would be coming out more and more. Without a second thought, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing, reassuring Harry she was there for him. He slowly turned the hand on his thigh palm up and intertwined them together. 
"Thank you so much for dinner, Lorelai. Luke, thank you for the great conversation. I can't wait to see you both at the game."
"We wouldn't dare miss it, Harry," Lorelai tells him, a wide grin on her face as she picks up the dishes. 
"Now go on; I'll help your mother with the dishes tonight." Luke gestures to them to get up and get their privacy. Y/N thanks him and takes Harry's hand, leading the way up the stairs. 
Now they are lying on her bed, it's got enough space for them to be spread out, but she prefers to lay across Harry, her head on his chest as he rests his head on her pillows. 
Harry had his hand in her hair, always calming for her and for him. Allows them to sit in comfortable silence, basking in the joy of being together. 
Many people ask them if they ever get sick of seeing each other every day and never giving each other space after dating for so long. That isn't entirely true because when they aren't at their respective extracurricular activities, they are found together. Harry's response is always, "she's my favorite person." Y/N just shrugs and smiles, "he's my best friend." 
Believe it or not, they spent around in her room listening to music or in his house watching movies from their grand VHS collection. Most thought they spent it making it out, not that they don't do that because they are just as in love as when they got together four years ago. When they walked into any room, her parents were sure they would be kissing, which is why the open door policy exists. Well, half-open is the agreement now. 
Harry looks around her room, his eyes settling on the polaroid photo on her bedside table, one of them smiling at each other, lost in their own worlds. It's dated 06-18-1989<i<, it was from one of their many summer days spent together. He decided now was as good as time to bring up what he had been hiding. 
"You know how we were making plans for the weekend, sweetheart."
"Yes, you didn't let us decide on anything." 
"Well, what if I did?"
She sits up and moves to sit in front of him. "Okay, I'm all ears. 
"You up for a drive?"
"Always, so drive me to the moon, please." 
Harry laughs. "Serious for a sec, baby."
"Sorry, yes, go on then." She interrupts him once more. "How far is the drive? You're not always the best driver."
"Ouch" Harry has his hand over his heart, feigning as if her words had pierced him. "Guess I won't tell you."
"That's fine." 
"Yeah. Is it?" 
"Yup." 
"Why's that?" He's confused; she's usually begging to know by now. 
"Simple, because I just won't give you any kisses."
"That's cruel."
"Oh well. I don't play fair." 
"Think you can resist me, sweetheart?" 
"Oh, I know I can." 
Harry shakes his head, response ready, but she stops him. "Remember who asked who out five different times."
"That's because you were playing hard to get. Claiming you just wanted to be friends for a little longer." 
"That was tru-" It's his turn to stop her.
 "Ah, yes, I know. I was getting impatient. Don't know if you know this or not, darling, but I had to scare off a lot of boys. 
"Trust me, H. I knew" 
"You did?" 
"Yes, I think it was because everyone knew sooner or later I was going to put you out of your misery."
"Yeah, by saying yes." 
"Oh no, I was going to say no."
"What changed?" Clearly, something had, and he just had to know. 
"You decided to show up at school wearing your Sunday best and brought me sunflowers. Told me they reminded you how much light I brought into your life. There I decided yes, he'll make a fine boyfriend."
Harry's smile is big, dimples on display just for her. Always for her. "You tease too much."
"But you love it."
"I do." He leans in and smiles as she lets him lead the kiss. It's slow and full of love. A love that only continues to grow each moment they are together. "I really do."
Y/N leans in, wanting to give him more kisses, wanting to be connected to him, wanting him to always feel her love. She's not sure how much time has passed when Harry pulls away. 
"You do realize we got sidetracked." 
"Yes, worth it if you ask me." She looks pleased. "Now you have to tell me, I gave you kisses."
Harry runs his thumb over her bottom lip, asking for another. She puckers her lips leaning forward, and connects their lips in a short soft kiss.
"Friday night, the Forum."
Y/N's eyes go wide; she was not expecting to hear that.
"No."
"Yes."
She sits there taking it in.
"Say it, baby." Harry likes that he managed to surprise her. 
"You got us tickets for Elton John." She whispers out, her eyes now locked with his needing him to confirm it.
"Yes, I did." 
"A sold-out show."
"Think it's going to be a fun night."
"How?" Although Y/N has an idea.
"Well, I called in on a favor with our dear friend Sarah and the radio station she's interning at." 
"I love her." She breathes out.
"Hey," Harry knocks her out of her gaze. "And me." 
"Of course, I love you." She moves forward, seating herself in his lap. "I love you. I can't believe you did this for me." 
"Yes, can't let you go off to uni without experiencing a concert." 
"You are perfect, Styles."
"Perfect for you."
There's so much love in between them; if anyone walked into the room, they'd be able to feel it. 
"Wait." Her hands now resting on his chest, a frown taking over her face. "How are we going to convince my parents." 
"Already done. Told them the plan and the itinerary, and your parents have agreed." 
"Perfect, I'm telling." 
"Is this why we're walking to school tomorrow?" She remembers him telling her he won't have his car. 
"Yes, taking it to the mechanic. I just want to make sure all is okay." 
"Marry me?" 
Harry can feel his cheeks warming up; she always makes him blush. He takes hold of her left hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her ring finger. 
"All in good time, my love."
_____
The week had dragged on, but it was finally Friday. She had been excited all week, and everyone could tell. Told her how she was jumpier, a lot more smiley, and twice as affectionate with Harry. She was happy.
She's at home getting ready; they would be leaving soon. Seeing as it was still a bit of a drive and no doubt would get stuck in traffic, seeing as they aren't the only ones attending the show. 
Y/N had gone over outfit after outfit until she finally decided on what she is wearing now. She's wearing a deep red power shoulder tucked into her favorite high-waist denim that makes her waist and butt look extra good. 
As she walks down the stairs, she hears the door and knows Harry is here to take her away. No matter what, he always stepped up to the door to pick her up; it still made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. 
Her father is at the door speaking with Harry going over her extended rules and what numbers to call for an emergency. 
"Well, aren't you a dream," Harry looks her up and down; she does a slow spin for him on the heel of her black boots to give him the full look. "I'm a lucky man." 
"Glad you know it, H." 
She grabs hold of his brown leather jacket and runs her finger down it, it's an old one, but he takes such good care of it; one would think he just got it today. 
"Think you just took my breath away, H." She swears there are hearts in her eyes as she takes him in.
"That's exactly what I was going for." 
Harry and Y/N bid her parents goodbye; they wish them a safe journey. Her mother was excited to send her off; her father was a bit more worried but trusted Harry to keep her safe. 
The drive to the arena is filled with conversation over the upcoming year, Harry's final football season, and her volunteering hours how she was hoping to be accepted into the NICU's internship at their hospital. Also, lots of singing on the radio as well as Harry's CDs. From ABBA to Shania Twain, he had, but they settled on Elton John for the ride. 
In what feels like no time, they had arrived. Y/N is amazed at how big it is; she doesn't know much about the place just from what Sarah told her that it was large and no matter where she sat, she was going to have the best time of her life. Already having Harry at her side, she had no doubt about it. She can't stop smiling, and neither can Harry.
Harry grabs her hand as they both stare at the arena, where hundreds of people are lining up to enter. 
"Ready, love." 
"Yes, gosh. I might throw up from the excitement." 
"Oh no, let's get you a pop. It'll help."
"That sounds nice." Y/N leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "Thank you, H." 
"Angel, I am more than happy to do this for you." 
Hand in hand, they walked into the arena, ready to sing their hearts out together. 
_____
Two hours of singing and dancing her heart off, and yet it still wasn't enough to tire Y/N out. Harry was sure she'd be clinging to his arm as he pulled her out of the arena, but she had asked him to wait out the crowd, and they stood in the emptying arena, arms around each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and it was still pumping hard. He kissed her lips one final time before swinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding them out to the chilly Los Angeles air. 
Y/N was all smiles, and she thinks it has to do with the man whose curls have fallen flat from all the sweating they did inside the arena. Being in a room packed around thousands of people will do that. She has never been in such a happy and united environment. 
It's a memory she's going to cherish forever. 
The drive home is full of retelling of their favorite parts of the night. Harry decided his was when Y/N turned to kiss him during "Your Song." He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It's a feeling he never wants to end. 
Y/N's had to have been each outfit change. There were so many that she lost track, but she loved how unique each outfit was. It's something she knew she could never pull off, but she admired the beauty of each one. It was over the top and full of colors; it kept her mesmerized. It reminded her of life and how filled with color it really is. Also, when Harry sang his heart out during "Tiny Dancer." How he knew every lyric and didn't miss a beat, if she's honest, she didn't bother looking at the stage for the entire song too entranced in Harry. 
The smile does not leave their face, not during the traffic of getting on the freeway, not when they stopped by McDonald's and got burgers and decided to share a coke, and not even when they saw the sign welcoming back into Aurora. 
Y/N's smile didn't drop until Harry parked his car right in front of her house. She sits back against the seat and turns her head to already find a bashful Harry smiling at her. 
"Come here." He whispers. 
She unbuckles and sits in his lap, it may have been a few hours, but she missed being this close to him. 
Y/N didn't wait for Harry to ask; she simply leaned in and connected his strawberry lips with hers. She loved how soft they always were, and she knew she'd keep letting him steal her lip balms if they did such an excellent job keeping them soft and tasting sweet; then again, that could be all Harry. She lets out a small moan when Harry swipes his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she happily grants it. 
She wishes she can stay here forever, in his arms, kissing his lips, never having to stop. 
"Baby," Harry breathes against her lips.
Y/N knows what he's going to say; she's not ready to say goodnight. Instead, she keeps kissing him. "Just a little longer." She mutters against his lips.
Harry can't bring himself to pull away again and nods, allowing her to take control. He has a tight grip on her thigh, he wishes to move it higher, but he knows if he does, she won't be going inside tonight. She moves her lips down his jaw pressing gentle kisses.
"You drive me crazy." 
"Feelings mutual, darling." 
Harry pulls her back up and kisses her plush mouth. She tastes sweet, something he never pinpoints; all he knows is that it's intoxicating. He presses one final kiss on her lips and pulls back. She's breathing heavy, a large grin on her face. He knows he looks just as dazed. 
"Think you got to get inside now." 
"Don't want to leave you." She grabs a fist of his jacket, pulling herself closer. 
"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."
She pouts. "Why so late?"
"Because you're going to want to sleep in." He brushes a bit of her hair away, she leans into his touch; she loves how delicate each touch is. 
"What if you come early and then cuddle me? Mom won't turn you away."
"She might."
"Not after I walk in and tell her how amazing the night was." She cups his cheeks, rubbing her thumb affectionately on his smooth skin. "She's got a sweet spot for you."
"And you." He reminds her. 
"Well, of course. I'm her daughter." She laughs but knows she hasn't convinced him. "Please," she whispers. She flashes him her best puppy dog look, knowing he won't be able to resist.
"Fine. I'll be here at eight, darling." 
"Perfect." She gloats. 
"Let me walk you up." 
Harry helps her back into the passenger seat so they can both head out. He grabs her hand, pulling her in close, not wanting her far for the last moments he has her. 
"You want to know something, H." She whispers, keys in her hand.
"What is it, angel?"
"I want to travel the world with you."
"The world." He gasps. "It's a big place, baby. Where would we start?" 
"London got to see the place you grew up before moving here. Of, course we'll save up and just spend the year traveling wherever life takes us."
"That sounds perfect." 
She hums, deep in thought, picturing visiting all these places she's only dreamed of with him by her side. To see the Eiffel tower, walk the streets of Scotland, and swim in the Amalfi Coast waters. 
"Dove," He hums, playing with a loose string of her jeans. "Where would you like to go?"
"Anywhere you want. I'll make sure to take you wherever you want to go." 
"Take me to the stars, dovie."
"As you wish, my sweet angel." 
Harry brings his right hand up to her face and gently cups her cheek; she sighs, knowing precisely what he's going to do. She tilts her head up and feels his lips against her. It's the softest kiss of the night; it's gentle. It's her favorite kiss, the goodnight kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow. 
She breaks away the first time tonight, knowing if he kept going a moment longer, she wouldn't let him go. "Goodnight, H," She whispers as she begins to open the door. 
"Goodnight, love." 
Harry turns and walks to his car as he hears the door shut and hears her turn the lock. Once in his car, he takes a look up at her window, sends a final smile as he sees her waving him off.
He feels so much joy always being around her, but tonight it seems to have multiplied by a hundred. He knew tonight was perfect, but his favorite part wasn't even at the concert; it was standing outside her door as they spoke of their future together.
Happiness isn't always about the big moments but also about these small moments that make them feel invincible.
JUNE 1998
Y/N grabs a book from her bookshelf, not bother glancing at which one knowing if she stopped to read each title, she would be there all day. She heads to the yard, a picnic blanket tucked under her arm, so she can lay on it and soak in a bit of the sun. 
Her mother is trimming the leaves of the roses, wanting the flower to pop out more. Her father usually helps her, but he's finishing up last-minute work before coming out to join them. He has a good view of them from his office window. When she was young, he told her he chose this room because it's where her mom spends all her time, and he likes having his eye on her as she joins the beauty of her flowers. Y/N's known love all her life, and she's happy her parents have each other, but she can't help but feel like she let that one-of-a-kind love go years ago and fears she'll never find it again.
As she settles down on her blanket, she decides to rid herself of all thoughts and instead get lost in the words of Stephen King. She picked up a psychological horror. She remembers her father mentioning it was a good read and that she'd enjoyed it. Two pages in, and she knows she's hooked; it looks like she will be laying out here all day. 
At least that's what she thought when her mother interrupted her. 
"When are you meeting everyone?" 
Y/N puts the book down on her chest and looks over at her mom, who's still got her eyes on her roses. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"When are you meeting everyone?" Her mother repeats herself.
"Tomorrow."
"Time, darling?" 
"At one."
She hums in response. "I leave you in charge, and please be watchful over my roses." 
"Of course, I would never think of damaging your roses. Well, my roses, really." Y/N corrects. 
"Just because they were planted in your honor does not mean they are yours. You've cared for them for such little time."
"Excuse me, mother. I went off to university, but once I'm done and ready to settle down, I will be doing all the caring."
"Yes, because you will have time as a doctor." Her mother responds sarcastically. 
"I will be able to." 
Her mother decided to move on, knowing how stubborn Y/N can be. "Your father and I have lunch and dinner plans out of town, so you'll have the house to yourself for most of the day and night."
"You're treating me like I'm sixteen again, and it's my first time having friends over." 
Her mom laughs, and Y/N can't help but join. "You're forever, my little girl."
"Cheesy." Y/N teases.
Y/N leans back and gets comfortable, all thoughts of tomorrow pushed away and instead gets lost in the town of Bridgton, Maine. 
_____
It's time; everyone is making their way over. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, thankful there's a nice breeze outside to keep her cool. Y/N and her mom cooked pasta with grilled chicken and strawberry lemonade wanting to be ready for after the digging. Y/N would feel bad making them dig a hole, open a box, then head on out. These people are her friends, and she wishes to spend time with them, and what better than with food.
She's got ten minutes before everyone is due to arrive when she hears a car pull up and turn off right in front of her house. Y/N knows of only one person who shows up early.
Harry. 
Y/N thought he would be the last to arrive, but she's guessing old habits die hard. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door and walking out.
Harry would be lying if he wasn't nervous. He's about to see Y/N for the first time after years. He's seen her in photos; he knows she only continued to become more beautiful as the years passed. It's not the same as, no, because he knows what's separating them is a walk up to the door. 
He feels precisely as he did the moment he asked her out and, if he's truthful, how she made him feel their entire relationship. Harry's 26, but his heart feels 18, and at that age, he was deeply in love with the woman inside that house. He loves her just the same.
Harry takes a long deep breath before slowly letting it out. He could do this; he got out of his car and made his way up the path, where she was already standing waiting for him. It felt like no time had passed as if he was coming over to take her on a date--except they weren't even close enough to say they were friends. 
"Harry," She breathes out as he reaches the first step. 
"Hi" He sends her a small smile. "You look great." 
Y/N feels her cheek flush, and knows he can notice now that he's right in front of her. She takes in her outfit; it's simple, just a cropped red long-sleeved tee and black pants, with an old pair of black sneakers. 
"Thank you, Harry. As do you." And he really does. He's wearing loose green denim joggers with a matching jacket. He has left it open, showing a brown button-up, a silver cross necklace peeking out from the space he left unbuttoned. "Always on time still."
"Better early than late." 
She nods, not sure if she should continue the conversation or not. Are they going to stand out here in silence? It was never this hard; she hates this. Y/N rather keep talking than let themselves stand there in silence for another eight minutes. 
She clears her throat. "How'd med school go? Have you decided on a residency yet? Anne told me you were weighing your options." 
Harry doesn't try to hide his shock. "You spoke to my mum?" He asks in disbelief. 
Y/N grins as much as his English accent is fading; it always comes back when saying 'mum,' or well, when he's nervous. 
She nods. "I visit her when I visit my family. Recently passed when I came to see my mother who was feeling down and lonely as she put it even though she has dad to keep her company."
Harry smiles, knowing what weekend she was talking about because he had come the week after, and Lorelai had told him she was no longer as lonely. He thought it might have been because of his company, but it was because her daughter was home for a weekend.
When he's about to tell her where he decided, she waits patiently, staring up at him, a shy smile on her face but stops when Sydney comes and tackles Y/N in a hug. 
"Of course, Styles got first dibs on you." Sydney fakes her exasperation. 
"He knows how to be punctual." Y/N teases. "Looks like you bring the others as always." She signals seeing two more cars park; they park in the empty driveway.
"Just like old times," Zac screams out two bottles of wines in his hands. Mitch and Sarah walk up behind him, agreeing. 
Y/N looks around, and it's almost like old times. Just one small difference that makes her heartache. 
Everyone greets each other, sharing long hugs, and it's not long after that she invites everyone in and into the backyard. 
"Mom says if we mess up her roses, we are dead meat," Y/N informs them all as they all stand in a semi-circle under the spot they buried their time capsule. 
Mitch steps and pats Harry on the back. "If anything does happen, just say it was Harold. Lorelai has a soft spot for him." 
Sarah approaches water in her hand. "Y/N is her golden child who does no wrong, easy to forgive."
Y/N laughs. "Enough. No roses will be damaged. Are we clear?" 
She gets a chorus of "yes."
"Great, there are clear instructions that only Zac and Harry are allowed to shovel. Sorry, Mitch, mom said we've got to take care of your musical hands."
Mitch nods in appreciation. 
"What about the doctor? No care for him." Harry mutters a small smile on his face.
"Quiet Styles, you're a favorite still," Zac tells him, pushing a shovel into his chest. 
Y/N's happy watching the banter; it's like she's sixteen again, and they are trying to see who could dig their side of the hole faster. 
SEPTEMBER 1988 - TIME CAPSULE 
"High school friendships aren't known to last," Zac speaks out randomly, breaking everyone out of their conversations.
Harry sighs, "You're a downer." 
"I'm a realist." 
Y/N takes this in; she hasn't thought years down the line. She just assumed they would always be in her life. She can't see herself without them.
"What if we aren't friends ten years down the road?" Y/N voices.
Harry instantly picks up the concern in her voice. "I promise I won't let that happen, lovie." He assures her. 
"H, I know." 
"It's not uncommon for others to drift, especially when everyone has a different path after high school." Sydney comments. "My sister went through it."
"Let's write a letter, and we can bury it, open it ten years, but we have to do it together," Sarah suggests.
"Not a bad idea." Everyone nods in agreement.
"Let's do a letter and something important to us." Y/N proposes already having an idea of what to put.
"It's settled. We're burying a time capsule." Harry states. 
"One problem." 
"What now, Zac?" Sarah groans. 
"Where do we bury it?"
Slowly everyone turns their gaze on to Y/N. 
"Your house," Sydney tells her. 
"You all agree?" Y/n is surprised. 
"Your mom will never leave her house. It's gorgeous."
"Also," Zac chimes in, "You love it and tell us how it's going to be yours one day."
Y/N sighs and nods. "I will ask and will let you know."
_____
It took a lot to convince her mother, but her father liked the idea and supported her. Two against one, Y/N knew her mom was in a losing fight. After lots of hugs and kisses and promises of doing the dishes for two weeks straight, she got permission. 
They had decided on a Saturday, wanting to do it early in the morning, unsure how long they would take digging the hole. Her mom designated an area for them to open. 
Her mom allowed her to have the house to themselves, trusting them not to do anything but dig a hole. Y/N had everyone promise they would be on their best behavior. 
Harry and Zac volunteered to dig, and no one argued. It took over an hour for them to get a decent-sized hole. It looked tiring, but Y/N enjoyed watching Harry's muscle flex as he threw out dirt. Finally, being satisfied with the hole size, mainly Sydney, made them go longer; it was time to place their items inside. 
Y/N rewrote her letter a few times, never knowing the right thing to say. It wasn't until she was lying on the floor of her room with Harry's head in her lap did she know what she wanted to tell her future self. 
Mitch went first, putting in his first-ever guitar pic, Sarah her Walkman, Harry followed with a copy of Romeo and Juliet, Y/N a chained rose ring, she put it in but not before giving it a small kiss knowing she'd miss it. Zac decided on his baseball mitt, and Sydney threw in a signed polaroid of herself, knowing it'd be worth a lot more once she became famous for her art.
Harry locked it shut with the final object in the box and lowered it down with Mitch's help. It fit well, and they sat around as it began to fill with dirt. 
"Ten years, we'll come back and open it up." 
"Yeah, but like summertime. I'm sure we'll have more time during the summer than other months." Zac might be right for once. 
"June 1998," Sarah suggests. 
Everyone thinks about it for a second, it feels so far away, a lifetime, really, but yes, they all agree. 
Ten years' time, they will all be digging it up and will relive these moments. 
JUNE 1998 
Harry removes his jacket half an hour in, and there is nothing to complain about. He tosses it close to her side, and Y/N knows if things were different, he would have gently thrown it at her, and without a second thought, she would have put it on. She missed the times when he loved her. Because as much as she can't admit it out loud, she still loves him. 
Now she'll fake conversation with Sydney when her real focus is on Harry and how his muscles seem to grow every time he scoops some dirt out and adds to the pile. He's grown buff over the years, he was always tall and firm in high school due to football, but now he's more defined. The most significant change was in his face, more stern. Not as smiley; it might just be due to being around her. He must hate being in her presence after she broke his heart. 
Y/N lets herself get lost in thought when Zac cheers. She looks down, and peeking out in the corner is brown wood.
"We've hit gold." 
In the next five minutes, Zac and Harry dig as much of the sides as they can, and soon enough, they are lifting it out before settling it down with a big "thump." 
Y/N can't stop eyeing it; it's got dirt in every spot that meets her eye, but she knows what's waiting for her inside of that box, and she can't wait to have it with her once more. 
"Who's going to do the honors?" Mitch asks the bolt cutters in his hand, ready to hand them over.
Everyone looks around at each other; no one says a thing until Harry steps forward and reaches to take them from his hand. Mitch hands them to Harry, no question asked. Harry heads straight to Y/N; he stretches his arm out, waiting for her to accept the cutters.
"Think it's only fair Y/N does the honors, seeing as we made her do a lot of groveling to Lorelai ten or so years ago just for us to bury this; not that she let any of us know." Harry smiles, urging her to take it. Y/N fingers brush his rather quickly, but in that small second, she felt her heart rate pick up and fears he might hear it, although that is almost impossible. 
"Thank you." He nods, urging her forward. 
"Take your time, doll." Zac says sarcastically." 
Y/N is too busy getting down on her knees in front to see the glare Harry sent Zac's way. Everyone else catches the look; believe it or not, they all hope this is the moment that brings these two once lovers back again. 
"Here goes nothing." 
Y/N places the bolt cutters between the lock and counts down to three; it breaks right off the first try.
"You've got some strength!" Sydney exclaims; she was expecting it to take much longer.
Y/N lets the lock fall before reaching up and pulling the single latch. She scans everyone circling around her before opening the crate hating the creaking sound it releases. 
There on top are their most prized items from when they were sixteen. 
Sydney reaches in first, pulling out a polaroid and pink envelope. She flips it over and lets out the biggest laugh. Sydney turns the photo around, letting everyone see her in the photo wearing her then boyfriend's varsity jacket. It has her signature on the page. "I swore I was going to be famous for my art and would sell this for thousands." 
"One day." Harry offers. 
Sydney shrugs. "My boyfriend will appreciate this the most if I'm honest."
"He's that crazy for you?" Sarah asks.
Sydney nods, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fortunate." She laughs, letting the moment pass. "Enough, Zac, please, you're next."
Zac, for the first time the whole evening, has fallen silent, almost looks nervous to reach inside. He takes a deep breath to go to the corner of the box and pull out a beat-up baseball mitt. Y/N can see his eyes well up with tears. He chuckles, "I swore I was going to go pro, but that senior injury year changed everything. In a way, Zac felt free; he got to pursue a career in travel journalism. "Enough sap, I volunteer, Harry." 
Harry nods, moving forward, sitting next to Y/N thighs touching; she feels her breath hitch; she doesn't dare move. He reaches in for the only book it's resting on the bottom, a white envelope with a scribbled 'H' on top. He sets the envelope aside but keeps the book in hand.
Harry smiles at the book in hand, Romeo and Juliet. It was not his favorite by any means, but it held a special place in his heart because it was the first book Y/N read to him when they first started dating. He remembers telling her he hated how she ignored him for words on paper, so he proposed she read to him aloud, and that way, they could bond. Y/N was thrilled at the idea; the first book was Shakespeare because it was a reading assignment, and she wanted it done that weekend.
 Harry hated the ending; he remembers ranting to Y/N as she ran her fingers through his hair to calm him down. He didn't understand why Shakespeare made these two people who were star-crossed lovers fall in love in a week only to have them die. 
Safe to say, it took a while to let Y/N read another one of Shakespeare's works. 
Y/N's eyes were on the book, and she watched as Harry carefully opened it to the first page, moving it back so that only they could read what was written on the cover page. 
It read: I've loved you for six months. I'll love you for six more. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to love you for life. Love, Y/N xxx
Y/N felt tears behind her eyes; she had to look away. She was so naïve at the age, but oh how she loved him, and she knew he loved her just the same. Y/N was so grateful to know she was loved, even if it was years ago.  
She doesn't want to go next; instead, Sarah reaches in to save her. Sarah pulls out her folded half of paper and her blue Walkman player. "Oh my goodness, this is going to have some golden tunes." 
Mitch chuckles, "You suffered without it. Think was the first time I ever heard you complain about something." 
Sarah sends him a playful glare. "Shut it! Why don't you go next, Mr. Sentimental."
Mitch is one to never say no to Sarah, so he shrugs and makes his way forward. Patting Harry on the shoulder causing Harry to shift closer to Y/N. Both Harry and Y/N don't say anything but don't bother to move away either. 
Sarah smiled as she watches Mitch pick up a guitar pick. It was the first one he received from his father. "Dad always said I had a guitar in hand." 
"Mitch, you've voiced your thoughts out loud." Harry jokes. 
"Funny Styles." That's the last of what Mitch says as he moves back to read his letter, and Sarah follows close behind. 
Y/N feels everyone staring, but really it's only just Harry. Everyone focused on their own letters but also waiting for a reaction. She slowly reaches in, first pulling out the pink envelope with her initial on the front; Harry wrote it for her, saying she needed a way to identify it years later. 
She sets it in her lap before reaching in and getting the item she's been thinking about all day. 
A silver rose ring. 
It was a gift from Harry; Y/N always spoke of roses and how much her mother loved them. Leading to Harry finding out she loved them just as much. He wore this ring for a long time; he found it in a store in London before they made the move here permanently. It's his last real piece of home, but Aurora had become home, and so had Y/N. It felt right to give to her. She cried, receiving it, and knew it wouldn't fit but told him not to get it resized. She surprised him by wearing it around her neck; she put it on a chain she had. There wasn't a day she wasn't seen without it. 
She holds it tightly in her hand as if Harry might rip it out of her hand, wanting it back, but it's hers, and it's special. Y/N never wants to forget her memories with Harry, no matter how much it hurts, thinking back on them. 
"I've missed it." She whispers. 
Y/N slips it over her head, letting it rest outside her shirt for all to see. She missed the look on Harry's face, but this might be the motivation he needs to speak with her. To talk about where they are now in life. 
Except Y/N stands up, brushing the dirt that was on her pants to head somewhere more private to read her letter she wrote to herself. She walks a few feet away and flips open the pink tab, pulls out a folded paper. Her eyes immediately go to the bottom of the page, wherein black ink, it says, "I love Harry (PS: he made you write that, but it doesn't make it any less true." 
Everything surrounded him; her love for him was just that large. She reads over her letter taking in the words of how her sixteen-year-old self said she was proud of her and that no matter what happens, it was all for a reason.
It's exactly what she needed to hear. 
Harry is watching Y/N stand there read her letter, and he feels the gaze of everyone else to go approach her. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would have been at her side holding her hand or rubbing her back, but now he doesn't even know if they are even friends. Mitch nudges him, and he knows he should check on her, but she surprises everyone by turning around, a grin on her face. 
"Mom and I cooked lunch, so let's wash up and eat. All this sure has built up my appetite." 
"Don't have to tell me twice." Zac smiles, walking inside heading straight to the kitchen sink. 
The others begin to follow Zac inside when Y/N stops hearing her name being called. It's Harry standing by the hole, shovel in hand. 
"Should I cover it up?"
Y/N can't help the smile, Harry was always so eager to help, and she's glad his kind helping sport hasn't changed. "No, dad is going to cover it. Mom told him he needs to do more yard work. She called it bonding time." 
"Okay, if you're sure." 
"I am." 
"Let's head in then." 
As Harry is about to walk past her, she reaches her hand out, grabbing his bicep, surprising him. "Thank you." 
He nods his head. "Of course." 
Y/N sighs; there's so much left unsaid. Their breakup fresh on her mind seeing him walk away from her, bringing it all back. Oh, how she wishes things were different. 
She doesn't regret leaving for New York, but she does wonder if there was a way to have made their relationship work; would it have survived or crashed and burned. 
In a way, she's glad she never had to find out. 
Y/N puts her brave face on; she's surrounded by friends who love her and who she hasn't spoken to for longer than half an hour. She's going to soak in this time and enjoy it. 
There are other times to be sad.
MARCH 1990 - ACCEPTANCES
Y/N and Harry were both lost in thought as Harry drove them to their destination. There was a lot to think about
Harry was proud to get a full-ride football scholarship to UCLA and a partial for USC. They were close to home, and he got to play a sport he was good at. These universities were tough to get into, but he impressed the recruits. He didn't bother applying outside the state, knowing he couldn't be far from home. It felt wrong for him; he knew that wasn't the case for Y/N. 
Y/N always spoke about leaving the state. She had dreamed about it from a young age especially seeing her brother do it. Gabriel's stories only make her more excited for her future. She loved to travel, no matter the distance. 
Harry, of course, knew this; he just thought he could convince her to stay. 
Applying to schools was hard for Y/N; there were many universities she wanted to apply to, but she feared rejection, so she set a limit of six. Still, a high number; she just needed options. 
When acceptances came in, each application welcomed her. Two east coast universities offered full-ride scholarships, USC offered partial and others only half. She had the money for tuition, her parents saved for her, which she is forever thankful for but knowing she could move across the country like she always dreamed of was calling her name. 
The one thing that stopped her was Harry. 
Y/N had never known love until Harry, and she knows her leaving will jeopardize that. She also knows if she stays, she might not be happy, always stuck on the "what if?"
She was distraught as soon as she heard the news. Her mom saw her pace outside, then sit, pour herself tea then began the cycle again. Y/N dreamed of Columbia. It was her dream university, and to give that up, but also having to give up Harry, she couldn't pick; she didn't want to. 
Harry parks the car; he drove them to an abandoned cliffside that's full of wildflowers. Y/N didn't rush out of the vehicle as she once would have wanted to feel the cold breeze. Now, she stares ahead, letting the car fill with silence—neither one wanting to be the one to begin the conversation that would change everything.
"Is this the end?" Y/N asks her voice, betraying her, as she feels her throat tighten up.
Harry doesn't answer; he reaches for her hand and holds it tight. 
"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be." She's barely holding herself together. Y/N's staring at the side of his head, silently begging for him to meet her gaze. 
"Life isn't always as easy as the last four years have been for us," Harry tells her, finally meeting her eyes. 
"I love you. You know that, right." 
"I know." He whispers. 
Y/N shuts her eyes, repeats the words in her head she hasn't been able to voice out, knowing she's going to be breaking more than one heart right now. 
"I can't stay, Harry." Y/N blinks her tears away, but they come right back, seeing Harry holding back tears. "As much as I want to, as much as I can't let you go. I also can't stay." 
"Don't let me go then." He whispers. He reaches forward, cradling her cheek in his hand. It's the softest touch he's given her. It's as if he's trying to remember how she feels. 
"It's not fair." 
"I don't care." Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tear away that managed to escape. 
"But I do." 
"I don't care." He tries again, Harry can't let her go. She's his life, he's too young to know about forever, but he doesn't want to live a life without her. "I'll go with you."
Y/N lets her tears begin to fall at his words. "No." Her voice firm. "It's over if you leave."
Harry pulls back, hurt by her words but Y/N's just as upset. 
She lets go of her hold on him and hurries out of the car. Harry yells her name, begging her to come back, but she's too busy crying to listen to him. Soon enough, she's surrounded by trees, and there are two trails to follow, but she can't pick; it is faith mocking her in the smallest of ways. Instead, she settles for sitting right in the center on a patch of grass. 
Y/N sits hunched over, crying; that's how Harry finds her. He doesn't say a word. He sits next to her and pulls her into his lap. 
"I'm sorry. So sorry, darling." 
Harry begins to rock her back and forward, letting his tears all as he rests his chin on top of her head. Begins to whisper sweet nothings, just wanting her close. He hates that they are causing each other this hurt. 
Y/N's cries have stopped; she sniffles from time to time. The holds she has on Harry is iron tight as if he'd vanish if she let go for even a second."
"Summer." She whispers, breaking the silence. 
"What?" Harry is not sure what she can mean.
"We have Summer."
"Yeah, we do." 
"We have to let each other go at the end of Summer." Her tone is final.
"Y/N-"
Y/N stops him, "Harry, I'm not letting you give up your dreams for me, and I know you won't let me do the same."
"I can't say goodbye," He confesses. 
"Then we won't. We'll kiss goodnight and pretend like we'll see each other in the morning." 
"That's heartbreaking, love." He chuckles bitterly.
"I love you, Harry Styles." 
"And I love you, my angel." 
Harry is done crying, instead leans in and kisses her like he should have done earlier as soon as he had parked the car. The kiss is fast, not soft like all the kisses he's used to giving her, no he wants her to remember this kiss. He wants her to feel everything he isn't saying. 
I love you. You're mine. You're my best friend. I will love you forever. He wants her to feel it all. 
"Show me you love me." Y/N pulls back breathless, lips plush begging to be kissed again. Harry knows what she's asking, and he's not one to deny her. 
He stands up, confusing her, but he comes prepared. Harry walks for the blanket he dumped a few feet away from them, grabbing it and spreading it out. Y/N is quick to lay back on the soft blanket. It warms her instantly. She smiles, reaching her hand up as Harry leans over her, his bottom half straddling her waist, her hand intertwining in his soft curls. Y/N brings him down for a kiss needing his touch to be close. 
Harry and Y/N are wrapped in their own world, lost in their kiss; it's always been them against the world, but soon they are going to venture off separately. It's something that neither of them wants to wrap their head around, and they won't not until they have to. 
They will enjoy graduation together, hand in hand receiving diplomas. Y/N will deliver a beautiful valedictorian speech. The joint graduation party will be a joy and one they sneak away from to spend watching the moon reflect over the ocean. It's the one place they feel at peace, the sea being a favorite of both of theirs. The Summer will bring endless days out, travels up the coast of California even as far as making it to San Francisco for a trip. There is not a second where they don't spend time together, and their parents understand; it breaks their heart, but it's their future, and all they can do is support them. Their love will only grow this Summer which makes it more heartbreaking when they say goodbye in August.
But none of that matters because, for now, they have each other, and that is enough. 
Harry pulls back, leaning his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing together. 
"I love you." 
"I love you so much; it's not going away just because--" Harry stops, not being able to voice the words out loud. He can't say it, or he'll start crying. 
"I know, dove." She trails her finger up his chest until they right over his heart. Y/N can feel how fast it's beating; it beats for her. "Maybe a day will come where we can be together again, that's if you don't find someone else, which I understand if you do."
"It's not going to happen." 
"You don't know that," She mutters. 
"Hey, I love you. No one is going to love me like you do. I'd be a fool to love someone else." Y/N settles her chin on his chest. She's staring into his eyes, trying to find a hint of a lie, but there is none. There's only love and sadness in his green orbs. 
"I love you too."
Harry sighs; there's not much they can do to brighten the mood. "You know what we can do?"
"What?" 
"Make a summer bucket list. First on my list is to kiss the prettiest girl I know every day." She laughs, making Harry break out in a big grin. "Lucky for you, that happens to be you." He tells her, booping her nose with his index finger.
Y/N laughs; it's only March. She has the rest of Spring and all of Summer to love Harry. To love him with every bone and cell in her body because that last day will come sooner than she likes. 
_____
The end of Summer arrived, and she bid Harry goodnight with a kiss at the door like normal, like he was going to show up tomorrow bright and early for breakfast and kisses, but that wasn't the case. It was goodbye, even though neither of them could admit it. 
Y/N and Harry walked away from each other; they didn't say no contact, but it was like they both silently agreed on it because there was no letters or calls to each other, no visits to each other's homes, no visiting each other parents, at least not in the beginning
The love was there, but life goes on.
JUNE 1998
After a delicious meal and second servings, everyone sits back stuffed. Everyone enjoyed a lovely home-cooked meal with entertaining conversation. Y/N enjoyed watching it happen, not participating much in conversation. She never was that interesting, she felt, always let her friends carry the conversation. She could feel Harry glance at her from time to time, but Y/N still hasn't recovered, knowing that Harry's most prized possession at sixteen was a book she wrote a note in. 
Y/N wonders if he's regretting that now. 
"Have we overstayed our welcome?" Zac asks, taking Y/N's silence as something terrible.
She laughs, shaking her head. "You're fine. I like listening, fascinating conversations going on."
"Come on, share something with us." Zac urges her.
"Uhh… med school has been going well. Have all of the Summer off, might do some sightseeing before going home." 
"Yeah, driving home to Massachusetts instead of taking a plane like a normal person." Sydney winces at the thought, not at all wanting to think about the pit stops she had to make. 
"Maybe not the smartest idea, but I encountered zero troubles; my baby, Twila, runs smoothly." 
"Should get her checked out again before leaving." Harry comments.
Y/N nods. "Dad's been on my ass about that as well, but I've got no rush, especially since all I ever do here is walk around town." 
"Enough car talk, let's talk about the time Zac got his clothes stolen after gym class sophomore year." Sarah sets them off on a never-ending conversation of memories.
As soon as one story is finished, a new one is being shared. Y/N forgot most of these, but as her friends tell them, she feels each memory unlock and surfacing. The conversation goes on forever, with no end in sight because that's how friendship is; it's never-ending. Especially when all they did for four years was hanging out together, creating these memories they now are so fond of. 
It's around seven o'clock, the sun begins to set when everyone decides to head home. She walks them out, giving them hugs and promises of seeing each other again before everyone leaves town. Y/N notices Harry lingering by, but she doesn't say anything.
Y/N waves goodbye to Sarah and Mitch when Harry comes to stand by her. She waits for him to say goodbye, not going to rush him, which is why what he says next surprised her. 
"Do you want help cleaning up?" 
Harry looks shy, asking, and Y/N knows he's about to take it back, so she nods. "That'd be great." 
She walks back in, and Harry follows close behind, making sure to lock the door, just in case. "I'll rinse, and you put it in the dishwasher. Okay?" 
"Okay, yes." 
They begin to work in silence, the only sound of the running water. Y/N wonders if he's going to stay longer or if he's going to leave right after. 
God, she could really go for a glass of wine. 
As Y/N hands him the last plate, she dries her hand with the red dish towel before handing a white one over to Harry, who thanks her quietly. 
She leans back against the counter, debating asking him to stay for a drink or not. Harry catches her staring and smiles, unleashing the dimples. It seems he made the decision for her. 
"Do you want a glass of wine?" Y/N turns around, reaching up for a glass for herself, not wanting to face him just in case he rejects her. 
"Wine sounds great." 
Y/N grabs two stemmed wine glasses and opens the bottle of red wine rather quickly; she's surprised her hands aren't shaking because she's so nervous. She fills both glasses halfway before stepping forward to hand Harry his cup.
"Thank you." 
"No problem." 
Harry takes a sip, humming at the taste. Y/N isn't sure where Zac got the bottle. She's just happy it tastes good. 
"Do you want to sit outside, watch the sunset on the steps?" 
Harry agrees and steps out, holding the door open for her. She sits down, leaving room for Harry. He leaves a small space in between them. 
"I love sunsets, never the same." 
"Same as sunrises." 
"I'm not a morning person as I once was, a bit of a night owl." She shares.
"Oh really, why is that?" 
"I'm not sure." Y/N knows that's a lie; what she wanted to say is because she has no one to wake up to. No one to give morning kisses or morning cuddles. 
"You must still love mornings." 
"I do." He chuckles. "I do three-mile runs each morning." 
"Three!" She gasps. "I'd be tired the entire day; I prefer going on hikes or long walks." 
"Used to it already." 
"Pity, to your partner. Stealing cuddles from them." She mutters, taking a sip of her wine, hoping he didn't hear. 
Harry wants to respond, not sure if she was asking or stating. Oh, how he wishes he could know what she was thinking.
"Didn't know you were interested in medicine, Harry." 
"I wasn't, not until my injury." He rubs his shoulder as if he remembered the pain. "After finding out, I was done for; I just needed something entirely different. My physical therapist spoke about his journey to entering the field. He told me to enter something that captured my attention and something I would never get tired of learning about. It led me to psychiatry. My professors were great guidance." 
"John Hopkins, right?" 
"Yes, the very one." 
"Tough school." 
He laughs out loud, hand on his belly. "You're telling me, miss dean's list each semester. Graduating with highest honors from Harvard." 
"You know me, my head always stuck in a book." 
"Still don't take compliments." 
"Makes me feel weird. I love what I do; I can't wait to start and just learn it all. This sponge I call my brain is ready to absorb it all."
"I'm sure you're going to do amazing." 
"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She pats his knee before quickly retracting her hand back into her lap.
"Where is your residency?" Harry looks at her, a frown on his face. "Don't think I asked you." 
"Well, Harvard medical was a dream, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I accepted Massachusetts General. I really love the environment they have in the hospital." She sets her wine glass down, turning her body to look at Harry. She misses the look of shock on his face. "Everyone is so kind--"
"Y/N," He tries, but she continues on.
"I went for a tour, and it was busy and crowded, but they were so kind with the children. When I entered the pediatrics ward, I just knew it's where I had to be."
"Y/N," 
"I already know who I'm going to be working under, and she's--" 
"Love," Harry tries his gaze on her face hoping to get a reaction.
That shuts Y/N right up; it has been a long time since she last heard that term of endearment. 
Her eyes are on Harry; he has her full attention. He can tell she's a bit stunned, but his news is life-changing. "I have my residency at Massachusetts General." 
"You what?" She was not expecting that news. Harry is in the same hospital as her. "Are you saying?" 
"We would have run into each other if we hadn't come home for the time capsule, yes." He answers for her. 
"Fate," she whispers.
Harry nods, eyes shining with tears. That one word was enough for Harry to know she might feel the same. 
He sees Y/N's eyes flicker to his lips, going back to his eyes, then leans in. He does the same, wanting to feel her close more than ever. 
"Y/N, you left the-" Harry and Y/N spring apart, the moment gone started by her mother. "Oh, hello, Harry."
Harry clears his throat, standing up to offer the woman who startled him a hug. "Hello Lorelai, wonderful to see you."
"How's your mother?"
"She's well. Left yesterday to visit my nephews for the weekend." 
"That's nice." 
The three now stand outside together, Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels, not able to standstill. 
"Truly wasn't expecting to see you," Lorelai tells him.
"We were catching up" Harry smiles at Y/N. "We were keeping each other company." 
"Very kind." 
"I should get going; it's late." Feeling as if he overstayed his welcome. 
Lorelai senses the tension a second too late as Harry is saying his goodbyes. "Well, please do stop by before you leave town." 
"Of course." 
"I'll walk you out." Y/N smiles at her mother as she leads Harry out through the side gate, personally wanting to avoid a run-in with her father.
Y/N, true to her word, walks him to his car; he is about to round his car, heading to the driver's seat but stops.
"Y/N?" His voice was shaky.
"Yes, Harry."
"Let's have dinner together." He rushes out in one go.
"Harry…" She pauses, "I--" 
He interrupts her. "Don't tell me you have a--" he trails off, not wanting to say the word.
"Course not." She replies quickly.
"But,"
Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a moment to get her thoughts together. "I won't do this unless this is it. This is the time I'm yours again. For good." 
"You've always been mine." He steps forward, hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She lets out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace take over her body. "Eight years and no one compared. No one ever will." 
"H." He can see the tears in her eyes. 
"I mean it. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you. It will always be you."
Y/N closes the gap between them; they are the closest they have been in eight years. She searches his face for any sign of doubt but finds none. Only sees love in his beautiful emerald eyes.
"I love you." She confesses feeling a weight leave her shoulders as the words leave her mouth for the first time in years. "I never stopped. I will never stop." 
"Sweetest words I have ever heard. Words I want to hear forever." Harry's smile is one she had never seen before; it's wide, and she swears it reaches the sky. His eyes hold a shine they never have before. 
There's one last thing she needs for this moment to be perfect.
"Please kiss me."
"With pleasure." 
She's never dreamed of this moment in fear of it not happening, but it finally is, and Y/N swears she feels the stars aligned just for them. Harry's lips were getting closer, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a wave of warmth. She finally felt at home. Her whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on jets as his arms wrapped around her tightly, afraid that she'd disappear. Y/N's fingers slowly moved up Harry's chest until they tangled with the back of his short curls. She tugged, needing more, feeling her legs buckle at the moan Harry let out. 
All she felt was love, and she wanted to feel it forever. Y/N let Harry pull away; he didn't go far, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their breaths mix together. There's a bashful smile on Y/N's face, but this moment feels too good to be true. 
Harry and Y/N stand there wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's gaze as if no one else existed and there was no risk of interruption. 
"I'll be here at noon tomorrow, going to take you out if you'll let me." 
"Yes, H. I accept." She kisses him softly two more times before unwrapping herself from him, putting a bit of distance between each other, or they very well would stand there all night kissing. 
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow." She confirms 
Harry steals one last kiss, short and sweet, before getting in his car. He sends her a kiss that she pretends to catch and places it over her heart. 
She knows he is blushing even though she can't see it. 
As he drives away from her, all the hurt and pain of not having him washes away. Harry is hers, and she is his. 
All is right. 
Their paths finally crossed again, and this time there would be no final goodbye. 
_____
Harry showed up the day after as promised. Y/N was eagerly waiting, she had felt time go slow when they had been apart, but it's a monumental day because once again, after so many years, Harry and Y/N are finally reunited. 
She waited on the steps of her house like she used to when she was a teen waiting for him to pick her up and take her out on a date. It was bringing back the best memories. Harry parked right in front, and just as he was rounding his car to go meet her, she was in front of jumping in his car.
"Woah!" Harry was fast to react, only stumbling a little put holding her tight. "This is a nice welcome." He teases.
"Can you blame me? I missed you." She tells him, nuzzling her face in his neck. 
"Missed you too, love. Eight years, I've missed you." 
"Don't start, H. Don't want to cry. We're here now." 
"You're right." 
Y/N has Harry set her down; they stand there smiling at each other, taking each other in. 
"Up for a drive?" 
She nods. "Will you drive me to the moon?" 
"Anywhere you want, angel." 
Harry drives them to one place she hasn't visited because of the memory it holds. She's guessing it's because he wants to create new, better ones. 
"It's still beautiful here." She looks out through the window, not wanting to leave the safety of the car. She wants to stay close to Harry. 
Y/N sits in silence with Harry holding each other's hands, allowing each other to just enjoy this time together. The calmness of being loved and feeling loved. She knows there are lots to talk about, but she settles for the quietness for now. 
She's not sure how much time has passed, but she's now facing Harry, and he's toying with the rose ring hanging on her neck.
"Y/N," he whispers; she lifts her gaze from his lilac nails and hums for him to go on. "I have to ask." She lets his words sit in their silence. She knows what he's asking, the same thing running through her mind. 
"No." She frowns. "It felt wrong. I could never-- it was never you." 
Harry can tell she feels sheepish confessing this. 
She chuckles dryly. "I must sound lame; the last person I kissed was you eight years ago."
"No, it's not." He assures her. 
She sighs, "Harry." 
"It was the same for me. My friends tried to set me up multiple times, but it felt like cheating. No one understood." 
"So you haven't…" She trails off. 
"Well acquainted with my hand." He jokes.
She burst out laughing, and seconds later, Harry is as well. Their joyous laugh fills the car but also their hearts. 
"I love you." She breathes out, trying to catch her breath.
"And I love you." 
"Want to know a secret," she asks him.
He nods.
She turns her head to the window; she can see herself and Harry in the reflection. His eyes on her full of adoration. 
"I wrote you letters, hundreds. I've lost count, really, but I've got a box full; they are locked up in mom's attic." Y/N turns, looking back at Harry; there's a soft look on his face. "I wanted to send them, but I couldn't. I didn't want to interfere."
"Darling, that's-" he chokes up, tears escaping him. "Can I read them?" 
Y/N nods, "Of course, they were intended for you after all."
"Will you read them with me?" 
"Sure, if that's what you want." 
"Do you want to know something now?"
Y/N reaches forward and brushes a loose curl back. "Tell me." 
"Each book I've read, I have written a dedication in it for you." 
"What?" She says, surprised. 
"The new bookshelf in mom's living room is filled with books." He waits for her to nod before continuing on. "All books for you."
"Harry," It's her turn to cry now, it seems.
"Thought about you just as much, angel." 
"Do you think we did the right thing, letting each other go?" 
"I do."
"Why?" 
"It brought us together again. Sure it was the time capsule, but there is also Massachusetts." He reminds her.
"Isn't that wild?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Same residency."
"It was fate, angel. Like you said last night." 
"Yeah, guess fate had a plan, after all, dove." 
Harry chokes up, tears welling up in his eyes. "What did you say?" 
"Fate had a plan."
"After."
"Dove," she breathes out, not even noticing she slipped it in; it came out like second nature. "You're my dove, my kind man, the love of my life." 
Harry grabs her face and connects his lips to hers. It's not soft; it's fast and hot but full of love. She leaned back, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Harry chases her lips, not finished yet. She lets him kiss her as he pressed soft pecks on her lips, liking the feel of her soft lips. 
"Is it too soon to ask to marry you?" Harry asks, trailing kisses down her neck. 
"No, never too soon." She giggles as he kisses a soft spot right under her jaw. "If I recall, I asked you one too many times during high school." 
Harry chuckles, nodding. "Should have accepted sooner." 
She looks at him, not being able to contain her laughter, knowing very well he should have.
"Marry me." He asks, all traces of laughter gone. He holds his breath, waiting for a response. 
"Yes, of course, dove." 
Harry seals it with a kiss. She accepted, and yes, it may seem rushed, but they aren't getting any younger. Their love was put on hold, and now because the time is right, they get to pick up as if no time passed at all. 
They are different people, but Harry and Y/N have only become more perfect for one another. 
2000 DECEMBER - MASSACHUSETTS 
Her eyes snap open, and she quickly sits up, throwing the blanket off herself feeling hot and unfocused, startling Harry making him drop the Pop-Tart he was eating to fall on his chest. 
She looks back at Harry, sitting up with crumbs covering his mouth and half-eaten brown sugar cinnamon sitting on top of his black sweats. 
Y/N can't help but laugh at the sight in front of her, her nightmare now pushed aside. 
"You're laughing." He pouts. "You gave me a proper scare." 
She frowns, "I had a bad dream." 
"Yeah, want to talk about it?" 
She shakes her head no, instead asking him an important question. "Why are you eating Pop-Tarts in bed?" She picks up the broken half and takes a bite, appreciating the strong cinnamon flavor. 
"I got hungry, but I didn't want to leave you alone, and honestly, I'd never willingly leave your cuddles." 
"Did you bring me my own?" She mutters, swallowing the last piece of his.
"Why, of course, I'm no monster." 
"What time are you going in today?" She asks as she opens up the package handing him half since she ate his. He happily accepts. 
"Noon." 
She glances at the alarm clock and sees it is only nine am. She mumbles an 'okay,' settling herself to lay her head on his chest. 
"How are you spending your day off?" His hand running through her hair, always wanting to be touching her in some way.
"In bed." 
Harry doesn't like that. "Still feeling sick." He states.
"Yes, but I'm fine." 
"Okay, but we do work in a hospital." He playfully reminds her.
She lets out a deep sigh. "I'll have Annie check on me tomorrow." 
"Thank you." He kisses her temple, definitely leaving crumbs of food behind.
"I love you, Harry." 
"I love you too." 
Y/N and Harry had come a long way from the Summer of 98'. They got back together and were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Their families were thrilled at the news of them getting back together and even happier when they learned about their shared residency location. 
That Summer led them to where they are now; two years into their residency programs and one year into marriage. 
Harry could not wait; he had wanted to take her to city hall for a quick signature but knew she deserved better. They were wed in the botanical garden under the beautiful flower arch she dreamed of. It was the wedding she always dreamed of; it was small and beautiful. Only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Their wedding photo; Harry gazing at her as if she put all the stars in the sky and Y/N smiling at the camera. It sits framed on Y/N's bedside. He decided it went there, so when he turns to look over at her, he sees all of her beauty laid out for him and the happiest day of his life. 
Harry had fought her on changing her last name, wanting her to be called Doctor Y/LN because she worked for it and was a man who wanted his wife to shine and do all she set her mind to. Harry went as far as suggesting hyphenating but still no. She changed her last name to 'Styles.' Y/N told him she spent years dreaming about it in high school, even years later when he wasn't by her side. It's an honor to share his last name because one day, their future children would as well. 
Y/N has a year left in her pediatrics residency, and Harry has two years to go. She has her fellowship to think about, which will add three more years; her focus on Critical Care Medicine. Harry has decided on Addiction Psychiatry which is only a year-long, but he's got his last two years to worry about first. 
Life has been going well, they've had their fair share of arguments but nothing they can't fix. Harry can't say he doesn't love making up; it always leads to a good time.
They didn't know what life had in store for him but looking around at the photos they have hanging up, a picture of Mitch and Sarah's little boy Nathaniel who only gets bigger every time they see him. A photo of Sydney showing off her engagement ring, face full of tears but smile large; Zac off traveling the country smiling in his picture of him visiting the Grand Canyon part of his trip to visit each National Park and document his journey. 
This group of six friends is living their dreams; at sixteen, none of them know what life would be like twelve years down the road, but if it wasn't for each of them having this friendship and deciding to bury a time capsule, they might not be where they are right not; happier and more in love than ever. 
Harry and Y/N are filled with love and know life couldn't be better than it is; incredibly grateful to be in love and be loved back just the same. 
Little do they know their love will soon have to be shared.
_____
Thank you so much for reading! 
I love you and I hope you loved this story <3
737 notes · View notes
ayamturd · 3 years
Text
enough│dream team
summary: y/n is overwhelmed and hits a breaking point. luckily, her boys are always there for her.
warnings: angst to fluff, light cursing
pairing: real-life platonic!dream team
a/n: was trying to write comfort drabble but got carried away, oops— pls feel free to comment or give feedback!
wc: (1.4k) - m.list
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Falling face-first onto the safe haven of your couch, you felt as if you could cry from exhaustion. 
Today was long, longer than usual. From pulling an all nighter to barely finish the analysis essay you put off to the very last minute, struggling to understand the notes in most (if not all) of your online classes, to the torturous hours at work dealing with difficult coworkers and harsh customers, to say you were emotionally, physically, and mentally drained was an understatement. 
Despite the numerous assignments you knew were waiting to be completed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The stress of simply worrying about them was already enough to drown your thoughts as you smothered your face into the pillow cushions. Before the raging thoughts could continue to ring though, the discord notification quietly broke the empty space, the phone being previously thrown somewhere on the floor. 
The bright screen blinded you as you brought the phone towards your face and answered the call with blurred eyes. “Hello?”
“Aye, nice to know you’re not dead!” What?
“Sap, what the hell do you want?” The lack of sleep was present in your quip tone. You probably would have apologized upon realizing if you could think straight. 
“Geeez, no need to get all upset. Was just wondering if you were still planning on joining the stream.” 
“Stream? What stream?” As if answering your own question, you pulled the phone away to check the date and sat up in slight panic. Fuck. “Shit! I didn’t realize that was today, I thought it was still Thursday!” 
Sapnap laughed, but it didn’t help calm your nerves at all. “Honestly, you’re fine. We were just wondering what happened since you weren’t answering any of our messages.” You scrolled through the boys’ messages from the past hour asking where you were. 
“Ahh, but still, I’m so sorry. I just got home but let me set up and I’ll be there in the next five minutes or so.” 
“You sure? It’s fine if you don’t wanna, s’just a chill stream while we speed run and shit.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I promised and haven’t hung out with you guys in a while anyway.” Rising slowly from the couch, you stretched with a groan and headed to your bedroom to quickly change into something comfortable. 
“Alright, nice. I’ll tell the guys, see you then.” You hummed a bye and closed your phone. Slipping out of your dirty uniform and putting on something loose, you collapsed into your office chair and turned on your monitors. You weren’t in the greatest mood if you were being honest with yourself, but you would feel bad if you fell through with plans and didn’t want to disappoint anyone. You tried to force down any negative thoughts before entering the call.
“—eorge! What?!” Clay’s signature yell practically made your ears bleed when adjusting the headphones on your head. You were quick to turn down the volume. 
“What are you idiots up to now?” you asked, letting the boys know of your presence.
“Y/n! glad you finally decided to join us!” George remarked. You could hear the stupid grin on his face while loading up the game, and scowled at your screen as if he could see it. “Shut it, Gogy. I was busy and it slipped my mind.”
“Mhmmm, suuure. You totally weren’t ignoring us for the past hour or so.” The cheeky little bitch.
“Hey, just cause the girls you hit up don’t respond doesn’t mean every girl in the world is ignoring you!” 
You could hear Clay wheeze as George and you began your usual bickering. Wanting to entertain their streams, you tried to interact and talk with each of the boys as much as possible, but you felt the high of speaking with friends significantly drop as the night continued on. 
The events of the day and the sensitive thought of meeting expectations and your inability to do so were starting to creep onto you. Even your game play was off as you died the fifth time in a row within the first 3 minutes again; the growing frustration made you tear up and get more angry at yourself. Who sucks at a block game and starts crying about it?
You didn’t realize you had gone silent until Clay called your name. “Yeah, Dream?”
“I ended the stream a few minutes after George and Sap, no need.” Oh. You must’ve spaced out and not noticed. When did George and Sapnap end stream? 
Letting out a sigh, you responded, “my bad Clay, I wasn’t paying attention.” 
George began speaking. “You okay tonight, y/n? It’s been awhile since we last actually talked and you got pretty quiet at the end there. I thought you were afk at first but could hear your keyboard.”
“I’m good, just tired.” You struggled to make a smile, barely convincing yourself as is.
“I don’t know, even when you’re tired, you’re not dead silent and completely zone out.”
“Yeah, what’s up with you today? I know you said you were at work but it’s not like you to forget things completely.”
“Plus you weren’t really fighting back that last argument. I know I’m amazing at Minecraft but I didn’t expect you to—“ You let out a stuttered breath and choked back a sob at their words, the heavy weight of the day finally crashing on you. 
You could hear George try to apologize for something he could have done to upset you and swallowed your silent hiccups to respond. “Don’t, George. Please. Trust me when I say you didn’t do anything wrong.”
The call went silent before Clay spoke up. “Then what is wrong, y/n? You can’t tell us something isn’t bothering you, we just want to help.” Now that opened the floodgates. Your breathing became irregular as more tears came into view. If the boys were talking, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying. You felt awful for forcing them to listen to you cry your emotions out, but Sapnap was quick to softly console you when you pathetically began to repeat broken sorry’s.
Eventually your sobs became sniffs as you calmed yourself while listening to George tell you to breathe in and out. The call became relatively silent once more.
“I’m so sorr—”
“Y/n,” Clay firmly stated, “never say sorry for something that isn’t your fault. You’re okay, okay?” You sniffed and nodded to his words, replying with a soft okay.  
“What’s wrong, y/n?” George was more gentle then before, him trying his best to comfort you in comparison to his joking manner. 
“I— I’m just so tired. Tired of school, t—tired of work, tired of trying to keep up with everything. I feel like I can’t breathe and it hurts. A—and I can’t help but hate myself for not being able to keep up with my own responsibilities and shit. I just, why am I not good enough?” The pause of silence was deafening and you looked desperately at the boys’ icons for an answer before screwing your eyes shut. 
Clay was first to respond. “Y/n, I know that right now everything feels hard and stacked up against you, but please trust me when I say it gets better. I know you said it’s been hard to breathe but you have to let yourself. You shouldn’t hate yourself for not being able to keep up, it’s just a sign you need to step away and give yourself a break. You’re not alone, okay? I’m here, George is here, S—“
“I’m here,” Sapnap interrupted. Clay let out a murmured groan while George scolded him for talking. “Oh, uh, sorry…” You giggled slightly.
“What I’m sure Clay was trying to say before is, you have us to back you up, alright? Struggling to take on your own responsibilities isn’t something to feel alone in, everyone needs support and we’ll always be yours. You are good enough. You’re too good for your own good that you won’t let yourself see it.” They collectively chuckled at George’s words. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
You slowly nodded while still grasping everything they said, a warmth replacing the shuddered breaths as you exhaled. “I do, yeah.” You couldn’t help but feel touched by their attentiveness and genuinely smiled. “Thank you guys, for listening and calming me down. It means a lot.”
“Course, y/n.” Sapnap reassured. “We love you and all that shit.”
“I love you guys and all that shit too.”
746 notes · View notes
idy-ll-ique · 3 years
Text
Voices.
Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader
Genre: nothing but floofy-floof
Warnings: none
Requested: nope
Summary: in which you can hear the voice of your soulmate in your head and Y/N's soulmate is someone really special— her celebrity crush.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! do y'all know how long ago I wrote this fic, like— at least 2 years ago. damn. so in advance, im sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes or bad punctuation in the fic that I forgot to correct (apology for bad english 😌)
oh and
bold/italics - chris
only italics - y/n
---
Hey, you still there?
Y/N snapped out of a trance and focused on the voice. Yeah, yeah I'm still there, she thought to herself. She was hearing the voice of her soulmate, or rather, was speaking to him, telepathically. The thing is, you could hear the voice of your soulmate in your head. You could talk, hold conversations, but the only thing was that you couldn't ask for their name.
You had to guess. Most of the people made plans, like let's meet here or there and concentrate hard enough, I'll see your name written on a paper. It was a thing, I mean, if you concentrated hard enough, you could see what your soulmate was doing. It was like a cheat code of sorts. Most of them found their soulmate in that way.
You see, Y/N loved surprises, so she wasn't going to find her soulmate just yet. Y/N wanted to figure it out for herself. Your soulmate couldn't hear every single one of your thoughts, though (which was how she had zoned out mid-conversation). Listen, we should meet up sometime.
Aw, already? she thought with a pout on her lips. Yes, I'm very excited to meet you, I've been waiting for too long, the voice replied, chuckling. It was a manly voice, really deep and raspy. She loved it. When Y/N was small, about 4-5 years old, all she could hear were swear words and dirty thoughts; characteristics of a teenage boy.
From that, she inferred, that soulmate was much older than her, about 8-9 years older than her. She didn't mind, She was kind of into older guys anyway… But I like this game we have! Why do you want to ruin it? she asked, shaking her head. Alright, sweetheart, just for you, I'm holding back. But I don't have much patience, the voice laughed. Y/N smiled.
Without even meeting her, Chris loved the voice in his head. She sounded so sweet and welcoming, maybe she was younger than him. He couldn't wait to meet her. Chris had tried to plan their meeting for so long now, but she just wouldn't give in. She was also a feisty one. He smiled to himself as he walked down the street, engaged in thoughts about his soulmate.
In his haste, he accidentally bumped into someone. "I'm so sorry!" he blurted out, instead hearing a soft ouch, shit in his head. His brows furrowed. The lady he had bumped into just kept on walking. Are you alright? he asked his soulmate in his mind. Yeah, just bumped into someone while walking.
I bumped into someone just now too! he told her excitedly, still staring at the lady who had now stopped in her tracks. She turned around, scanning the crowd. Then she looked at him, but maybe she didn't realize that she had bumped into him. Holy shit, I see— Then it all went blank. See what? Chris questioned desperately.
He still wasn't sure whether the woman he had just bumped into was his soulmate or not.
Why can't I say the name of the guy who played the role of Captain America?
Chris froze and stared at the lady, jaw dropped. She was lost in her thoughts, confused. He slowly walked to her and stood in front of her; she stared back at him, her heart racing. This was her celebrity crush, who was currently looking at her as if she hung the moon. But why? Why was he looking at her like that?
"You can't say his name because that's me, you technically can't say his name because you aren't allowed to," Chris whispered to her, smiling softly. Her eyes widened.
"You! You're the voice I hear in my mind! Chris freaking Evans is my soulmate?! How did I not realize?!" The woman exclaimed, shocked. Soon though, she got a wide smile on her face. His eyes widened too, hers was the voice he heard as well! "What's your name?" he asked her as they hugged. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she replied, smiling.
"Wanna join me for a coffee?" he offered, holding his hand out. She put her palm on top of his and nodded. Both of them entered a nearby coffee shop. "So, what do you do?" he asked her after ordering two coffees. "Nothing. I'm unemployed right now, just got out of my last job. I gave an interview yesterday at Ralph Lauren, just waiting for a call back," she shrugged.
"Oh, into fashion?" he asked her, smiling. "Yeah, got my degree and all. Just needed a job, Ralph Lauren offers a good amount of money," she chuckled. Chris smiled again. "Reminds me of Rachel Green." She laughed more, which warmed his heart. Her laugh was adorable. Suddenly, her phone rang and she looked at him, wide-eyed.
He nodded dismissively and she picked up the call. She spoke for a while and when she ended the call, she had the biggest smile on her face.
"I got the job at Ralph Lauren, I'm starting tomorrow!" Y/N squealed. They couldn't have picked a better timing. "Congratulations, Y/N!" he told her, grinning. After spending some more time at the cafe, they parted ways. She went home while he went back to the sets where they were filming Avengers: Age of Ultron.
"Hi Chris, you were out for a long time, what's up?" Chris Hemsworth asked, smiling at Chris Evans as they stumbled upon each other. "Nothing, just met my soulmate, had a cup of coffee with her." The older Chris feigned nonchalance. "You what?! That's awesome, man! So, how is she, what does she do?" Hemsworth asked him excitedly as both of them walked inside.
Robert and Scarlett were there, talking. "She's so beautiful, I stopped functioning when I saw her. She works at Ralph Lauren, she's a fashion designer," Chris told him with a smile. Robert and Scarlett looked up. "Who?" Scarlett questioned. "Y/N," he said simply, sitting beside Robert. "Who's that?" Robert inquired. "My soulmate." Chris smiled, as if in a trance.
"Boy, you look like you're in love," Scarlett laughed. "Because I am, she's that beautiful," he told her adamantly. "Whoa, did you ask her out?" Robert snorted. "I'm back from our first date." We had our first date right now, didn't we? he asked her in his mind.
Of course we did, I loved it. Hope to meet you again soon, her voice replied and he could practically feel her smile.
Sure, I'm in town for a few more months, I'll mind-text you as to when I'm free, he told her, sporting a smile on his face. She outright laughed in the comfort of her own home. Mind-text? Sounds fun, she agreed and focused on the Netflix series she was watching, turning off the "magical telepathic link" between them.
Chris, too, focused on the others only to see them smiling at him. "Talking to her?" He nodded at Scarlett. A few minutes later, all of them went to another room to begin with the shooting of a new scene.
---
Y/N danced as she prepared dinner, singing along to You Don't Know Me by Jax Jones. It had been a month since she last saw Chris. He had promised her a date, but he didn't get time. She couldn't blame him, he was a busy man. Y/N was shouting the lyrics of the song in her head, unaware of the fact that Chris was snooping in on her mind.
Hey, calm down, she heard Chris chuckling in her mind and shrieked in real life. What are you— are you snooping on my mind? Chris! she thought, scandalized. He laughed more. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wanted to ask you out. Are you free right now? We could meet in the same coffee shop, he asked. She grinned and nodded to herself. Of course, I'll be there in 15.
She quickly got dressed, wearing a pair of track pants and a t-shirt (like she was wearing on their first date). She didn't bother with her hair or makeup, it looked good anyway, she just bolted out of the house. Y/N entered the coffee shop to see Chris already sitting there, wearing a suit. She cursed herself mentally, making Chris look up.
He stifled a laugh. She went and sat in front of him.
"I'm so sorry I look like a single mother of two kids who hasn't slept in a year," she moaned, "I didn't know you were gonna show up in a suit." She facepalmed for good measure. "It's quite alright, you look beautiful. I wouldn't have you any other way, I should say. I'm coming back from a party right now, therefore the suit."
She blushed softly at his compliment. He ordered two coffees for them and they started talking. "So, how's your job at Ralph Lauren?" Chris asked, smiling at her. "It's amazing, I got promoted. Now I'm the head of the department, with my own office and all," she told him, smiling back. "That's great! Oh, congratulations, honey," he grinned.
"Thanks," she muttered, blushing slightly when he called her a nickname. "You look cute while blushing, has anyone ever told you that?" Chris winked as their coffees arrived. "No one, ever. I don't interact with people much, it's a tedious job," she half-joked, smiling.
"Really! So who are the people you talk to?" he joined in. "Well, there's my assistant, my mother, my bro and you. That's all. I've got some friends, but I rarely talk to them, only on the phone while texting, that is," she shrugged. "Nice, nice," he nodded as they finished their coffees. "Allow me to drop you home," Chris offered, taking out a key which she found out was for his bike as they left the café.
"No it's alright, I'll go," she refused immediately. "Nonsense, you're practically my girlfriend! I'm going with ya," he shook his head. They looked like an odd couple; one wearing a suit while the other looked like she had just woken up. Surprisingly enough, the one who looked like she just woken up had the best fashion sense among them. "Hop on," Chris grinned.
She sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Both of them chatted for the 2 minutes that took them to get to Y/N's home. Once they reached her building, she got down from Chris's bike and turned to him.
"Thanks, Chris, this has been an amazing second date. Can't wait for the third," she told him with a smile. "Me too," he smiled back. A few seconds later, she turned to leave but Chris suddenly grabbed her hand, turning her around. "Wha—" She didn't get to finish her sentence as Chris pressed his lips to hers. She kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I just had to, sweetheart," he panted as they pulled away from each other, breathless. "Wow," she breathed out as Chris rested his forehead against hers. "So, um, see you on the third date, yeah?" Y/N giggled as they stepped away from one another, smiling. "I'll make it as quick as possible. Can't stay away from you, darling," he winked.
"How flattering," she winked back and turned to leave, purposely adding a sway to her hips knowing that he was watching. And fuck, was he watching. "Oh, the things you do to me, my dear Y/N."
"I heard that!"
"Good!"
---
A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!
197 notes · View notes
moeyy-writes · 3 years
Text
Music to My Ears
Zak Bagans x Fem!Reader, Billy Tolley x BestFriend!Reader
Warnings: just a flicker of angst, otherwise it’s just goofy shenanigans with some light fluff.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: This is an unofficial continuation of the “Prank Wars” fic/drabble series. If anyone has any suggestions for pranks to write about, I’m all ears. :)
My Full Master List
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You sipped your iced coffee as you waited for Billy, Zak, and Aaron to head towards the car. Jay offered to stay behind at the hotel and fix a few of the broken cameras. So, you were going to pick up some dinner for him on the way back.
“C’mon slow pokes! I’m hungry!” you whined playfully as Billy approached you. You waited just outside the front doors of the hotel, staring through the opened, glass automatic doors at your approaching friend and your husband.
Billy nudged you, grinning. Oh, boy, what now? He pulled on the straw to his iced coffee very slowly, letting out a hollow scraping sound that was like nails on a chalkboard. You grinned.
“The sound that drives Zak Bagans crazy,” he whispered, winking. You nodded.
“Wait until we get in the car. I’ll follow your lead,” you muttered back, returning his gesture. You both laughed in agreement.
“What’s so funny, babe?” Zak asked as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You shook your head.
“Nothing. Just an inside joke,” you responded innocently, kissing his cheek. “Now c’mon, I’m getting super hungry, and you promised me true Chicago pizza.” Your husband laughed and rolled his eyes, then turned the two of you towards the car.
Once the four of you were in your seats, Billy put the van in drive, and headed for the restaurant. You were seated behind Zak, where Jay usually sat, gently running your fingernails up and down the back of his neck. It wasn’t sexual, at least not like this. No, this was something that soothed him and relaxed his otherwise racing mind, and neither of the guys even questioned it.
He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. Billy glanced over at you, holding his drink on one hand and the steering wheel in another. You simply grinned, to which he nodded.
He leaned toward his drink to take a quick sip. As he lifted his head back up, he pulled the straw up, unleashing a low screech that filled the car. The moment Zak heard the sound, his shoulders shot up, tensing.
“Gah! Really, Bill? God, I hate that noise.” Zak scrunched his nose and peered away. Billy just smiled and took another sip.
You leaned back into your seat since Zak was too far to reach now, and sighed. Then, you lifted your drink to your lips and took a sip, allowing the straw to stick to your bottom lip, releasing another awful squeak.
“Y/N!” Zak boomed. You just chuckled.
“Sorry, babe. It was an accident,” you mumbled. Aaron chuckled beside you, peering up from his phone. Billy glanced back at you again and smiled, then he turned up the radio.
The beginning of Queen’s Somebody to Love was playing, giving you an idea. Billy grinned to himself, somehow agreeing telepathically. That’s why he was your best friend.
He started toying with his straw as it sat in the cupholder beside him. He pulled it up and down, making noises that were almost perfectly in rhythm with the instrumental part of the song. Oh, he was talented.
Once the vocals started, you tried your hardest to move your straw in sync, not doing quite as well as Billy. But, you were close, and that’s all you cared about.
Zak’s whole body tensed, and he slammed his hands over his ears.
“What circle of Hell have I just entered?! Gahh!” Zak shrieked as he shook his head. Aaron cackled hysterically beside you and danced to your horrid orchestra of squeals.
You sang along with the piercing shrills, which apparently sent Zak over the edge.
“Stop the car,” Zak growled. Billy laughed but let go of his straw.
“Aw, babe, you don’t like my singing?” you whined as you leaned forward, holding onto the seat in front of you.
“Stop. The. Car.” Zak clenched his jaw. For a moment, your stomach flipped. Was he really that mad? Sure, he was sensitive, but he never truly got mad at you for pranks. This wasn’t even close to the worst thing the two of you had done to him. But this time, he seemed genuinely pissed.
“Dude, calm down. We’re just messing with you,” Billy snapped back, sensing your concern as he shot you another look. You were slowing at a red light, and a small part of you hoped Zak wouldn’t fly out of the car the moment you stopped.
“Do you two want me to go deaf? Or completely nuts?” Zak’s tone was serious, but you couldn’t help but laugh, instantly feeling a little better.
“Well, you’re already nuts, Zak,” you poked, hoping for a smile. You got one, along with an eye roll.
“You married me,” he retorted with a dry chuckle. You laughed at that, his relaxing tone calming you again.
“I didn’t know you guys were so musically talented,” Aaron commented beside you.
“Thanks, man. We have band rehearsal twice a week,” Billy joked, picking up his drink again. Zak eyed him with a glare.
“If that straw makes even the faintest noise, I’m throwing it out the window,” Zak hissed as he stared out of his window. Billy chuckled just as he took a sip, nearly sending coffee straight out of his nose.
“Okay, Bagans, let’s get you some food. We’re almost there. You get cranky when you’re hungry.”
Zak rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, especially when my very sanity was just pushed to the brink of nonexistence.”
“Sorry, hun,” you whispered to him, running your fingers down the back of his neck again. He didn’t pull away, which made you smile. “Billy and I will save our band practice for when you’re not around,” you teased. Zak huffed a sharp sigh and leaned back into your touch.
“I’d appreciate it,” he muttered with a smile as the car pulled to a stop.
“Now let’s eat. I’m starving,” you muttered as you opened your car door. The moment you lifted from your seat, you were met by Zak’s tall, muscular frame. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and lightly squeezed you. “I’m not mad.” Another kiss on your forehead. “But when we get in there, neither of you are allowed to have a straw.” You busted into laughter and pulled away.
“Oh, so I’m on straw probation?” You cocked an eyebrow.
“For lack of a better phrase, yeah. You are.” His arm slithered around your shoulders and he led you toward the building.  
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Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated. <3
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lonslibrary · 3 years
Text
3 moments between the crow couples during their time at hogwarts
1. an unknown part of wylan and jesper’s somewhat disastrous amortentia story comes moments after jesper pulled wylan in for a kiss by his tie, causing the rest of their classmates to erupt in cheers and applause so loud that professor snape’s “boys! in the hall, now!” went unheard. minutes later, when they had actually been led out of the classroom to wait for their punishment, wylan finally worked up the courage to meet jesper’s eyes, his face almost as red as his hair. jesper’s grin was radiant. “so. butterbeer and my cologne, huh?”
it took all of wylan’s nerve to not sink into the ground where he stood. “i didn’t know today’s lesson was on amortentia,” he muttered, feeling himself flush again.
it took all of jesper’s will not to kiss the younger again right there where he stood with the way the redhead was looking up at him from beneath his long lashes.
“well, what about you?” wylan demanded, rolling his eyes. “let me guess. cards, pumpkin juice, and galleons?”
“no, actually.” jesper replied, spinning his wand in his hand. “i smell grass. gunpowder. and...”
he took a step closer to wylan who stood still, holding his breath. “...and?” the third year asked quietly.
“exploding elixir.”
wylan’s mind shut down.
“the entire room was filled with the same smell from that day we singed snape’s hair,” jesper snorted. “of all things, we had to mess up the potion that smelled like burnt-”
it was wylan who pulled jesper down this time, reaching up on his tippy toes to meet jesper’s soft lips, the ones that had captivated him from the moment he had walked into the potions classroom and saw his new lab partner for the first time.
“fahey, van eck!” snape burst into the hallway. “does it seem possible to keep your hands off of each other?”
“sorry, prof.” jesper winked, eyes still trained on wylan’s mouth. “guess you can say we’ve got...chemistry.”
wylan couldn’t even bring himself to care about detention.
2. nina stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face as she watched matthias scan the inside of zonko’s joke shop. she had just gotten matthias to admit that he enjoyed a drink as sweet as butterbeer, hours earlier at the three broomsticks. “you look like you’re inside the shrieking shack, not a joke shop.” nina snickered at the way matthias perked up.
“whatever the shrieking shack is, i think that there’d be more dignity in such a place than...this.” matthias dropped a dungbomb he had picked up like it had personally offended his grandmother.  
“why?” nina giggled. she shook the box in her hand. “not a fan of ton-tongue toffees?”
matthias made a face that looked like he was more than just not a fan. “if it’s anything like those jelly beans you fed me on the train, then no.”
that only made nina laugh harder. “i swear you picked the worst ones! you should’ve seen your face when you tried the rotten egg flavor.”
matthias cracked a smile, relaxing a little amongst the colorful store and his girlfriend’s laughter. he picked up another product, a pink bottle corked at the top. “what does this one do?”
nina lowered her voice, gesturing for matthias to come closer, as if letting him in on a secret. “that one’s a love potion. one drop of it in someone’s drink and they’re yours,” she whispered. “they’ll think about you all day.”
matthias jerked away, putting the bottle back on the shelf. “you can’t be serious. love can’t be made like that!” he sputtered.
“i don’t know, durmstrang,” nina teased. “what if i bought one and slipped some in your pumpkin juice tomorrow at breakfast?”
matthias only crossed his arms, continuing to grimace. “well, that wouldn’t work at all.”
“why not? zonko’s is pretty reliable when it comes to their products.” she said pointedly, looking at the extendable ears on sale.
“because i’m already in love with you.” matthias stated simply.
nina froze, turning to her boyfriend. during her time dating matthias, the hufflepuff had proven to be narrow minded and straightforward as a broom doing any and every thing. it was moments like these she was reminded that this included during his expressions of affection, and nina couldn’t love him more for it.
“i’m in love with you, too.” she declared, slipping her hand into her boyfriend’s. she had always liked...brooms. “now, come on. i want to see if we can get kaz to fall for a trick wand.”
3. all inej had wanted was a quiet place to study that wasn’t the library. she liked to practice with her wand for transfiguration, and magic wasn’t allowed in the library. she had been wandering the school for an empty classroom or quiet corner when the room of requirement had appeared at the end of a hallway, exactly moments before she was about to give up and return to the gryffindor common room. she was only half surprised when she opened the door and saw kaz, but like always, kaz hadn’t seemed surprised at all when she entered. he sat on top of a desk with his cane leaned against it, wand out, in the middle of a silent spell. inej let her eyes trail over his robe perched on a chair, his gloves off and set aside in a rare moment, and his uniform sleeves pulled up to his elbows.
“first time here?” kaz asked, not looking up from the book in his lap. his rough voice echoed slightly in the large room as inej scanned her surroundings. the room was empty besides a couple of desks and chairs in one corner, a cluttered pile of objects in another, and a big wardrobe that looked ages old. a fireplace on the wall kept the room warm, and a small chandelier hung above inej’s head.
“guess i didn’t require much until now.” inej shrugged, pulling a desk and chair of her own towards the center of the room. “you?”
kaz closed his book, finally looking up at inej. “i come and go when i want.”
inej wanted to know more about what had revealed the room to kaz in the first place, but she redirected the question away from kaz himself, knowing it was unlikely he would answer. “get anything out of it?” with kaz, it was all about gain.
kaz drummed his fingers on his desk. inej tried not to stare. “some crying first years with who miss their mums. i think i’ve witnessed a bit of every couple in the school’s snogging.” he pulled out a handful of extendable ears from his robe pocket. “snape’s planning something. don’t know the details yet, but something big.”
inej nodded. part of her expected kaz to leave, speak with his silence as he tended to do, but he continued to sit and look at inej, book in lap. inej knew him well enough to recognize that while it wasn’t exactly an invitation, kaz wasn’t saying no to a conversation. she could’ve started with a less risky question about snape’s plans, or asked for the names of the couples in their year, just to know, but inej was curious about other things.
“and how did you find this place, kaz?”
“the de kappel painting.” he said casually. “i needed a place to hide it.”
inej froze, taken aback by kaz’s answer. or more accurately, his willingness to answer. “so it’s true?” she questioned, hoping her voice didn’t give away her surprise. “the gringotts vault rumor.” she had half believed them to begin with, knowing kaz’s abilities but never his motives. still, kaz had never confirmed it with anyone as far as she had known.
“true enough.” kaz reopened his book, attention back on the page. inej inwardly sighed. the satisfaction of knowing kaz trusted her enough to confirm the gringotts rumor didn’t last long. figures kaz wouldn’t want to talk much about himself.
“but that’s a story for next time.” kaz flipped a page, the slightest start of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
next time, inej turned over in her head. she tried not to smile as she opened her own book. she could work with next time.
author’s note (pls read!) this is my first time on tumblr so idk how to use it too well but i’m overwhelmed by all the nice responses so thank you all so, so much. i see everything!! idk if there’s like poll mechanisms and stuff on tumblr (argh help) but i wanted to gauge what everyone would like next—im deciding between six of crows x pjo or shadow and bone x harry potter, so comment below what you’d like to see first (: i’d also love to hear abt any personal requests so my dms (is that what they’re called here?) are open for suggestions. no promises, but lmk if there’s something you want to read. feel free to get as niche as you want, respectfully! ok ik this is super long god bless your soul if u actually read the entire thing but finally, i just wanted to introduce myself—i’m lynn, this is my library and i dabble in most fandoms! my goal is to get at least one piece of writing out every month, so if you’d like to read what i write, follow along! OK im finally done, i swear. thank you again for the tremendous support. unbelievable. happy reading!
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strawberry--bride · 3 years
Text
DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [PROLOGUE]
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Monologue
The most painful thing in this world,
is losing your home. Your place-to-be.
No matter how dire the situation,
if you are surrounded by people who love and care for you.
No obstacle is invincible. 
Then ーー Where do I belong?
Having long lost the place I once considered home.
I spent many years in a place which would provide for me. 
I had food, a roof above my head, a warm bed to sleep in at night.
But could I truly call this my home? 
Those doubts would lurk in the back of my mind, keeping me up at night.
Until one day, I was made a special offer. 
If I complied, I would be given the thing my heart longs for the most.
ーー A new home.
Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Outside
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Sharon: This is the place, right...?
( Woah...Amazing. I’ve never seen a house quite this big. They even have a garden! )
*Knock knock*
Sharon: Excuse meー! My name’s Sharon. I’m supposed to move in here today! 
...
...
( No response...? How strange. They should have been informed through the Church. )
*Knock knock*
Sharon: Hello...? Anybody home...!?
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Sharon: ( What to do...? There doesn’t seem to be anyone home right now. It’s already getting dark. I can’t just stand here all night either. )
*Creaaaaak*
Sharon: ...Huh? Did the...door just open by itself?
( Does that mean I can go inside? I feel a little hesitant just entering someone else’s home butーー I was told I could live here so it should be fine, right? )
She enters the manor.
 Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Entrance Hall
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Sharon: Just as I thought, the inside is equally spacious. I can’t imagine just one person living in such a large house all by themselves. Cleaning must take quite some time as well.
She puts down her suitcase.
*Thud*
Sharon: Phew...
( ...It’s so quiet. Almost as if the house is deserted. I wonder if the owner is out at the moment? In that case, I should probably wait in the living room. )
Sharon looks around.
Sharon: I guess it’s...that way?
*Rustle*
Sharon: ...!!
( I...Did I just...step on something? It felt...strangely soft and... )
???: ーー Oi.
Sharon: ...Kyah!
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Sharon: ( A person...!? Oh my gosh. I just arrived here and the first thing I do is step on someone! )
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???: ...
Sharon: I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t think there would be someone lying on the floor and...!
( ...Speaking of which, what were they doing down there anyway!? ...Sleeping? No way, right? When you have a house this large, you definitely don’t need to use the floor as a bed... )
???: Haah...
Sharon: Oh no! Are you feeling ill, perhaps? In that case, I shall call a doctor right away!
???: ...You’re loud. How am I supposed to enjoy my Rachmaninov when you’re screaming the place down? 
Sharon: Rach...mani...? ...E-Either way, if you’re not feeling sick, then what were you doing on the floor?
???: Wasting his time away listening to music rather than making himself useful, per usual, I would assume. Well, I suppose it is best not to have any expectations of this man in the first place, as he will only let you down in the end.
Sharon: ...!? 
( A voice...? Out of nowhere...!? )
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Sharon: ...Wah!!
( Where did he come from...? )
???: Now, who might you be?
Sharon: Ah...I’m sorry! My name’s Sharon. I’m an orphan at the Catholic orphanage downtown. I was told by our related Church that the resident of this manor has been so kind to take me in. Are you...perhaps the owner?
???: ...I see. It seems you are the next...sacrifice.
Sharon: Excuse me?
???: Nothing. I was simply talking to myself. ...Ahem. My name is Sakamaki Reiji. The second eldest son of this family and one of the residents here. ...The man you had the ‘honor’ of meeting earlier is Shuu. While you may not suspect so given his deplorable behavior, he is - quite unfortunately - my elder brother.
Sharon: Reiji-san...and Shuu-san, was it? It’s a pleasure meeting you both!
Shuu: ...
Reiji: I assume that is your luggage over there? A room has been prepared for you. We will have one of our servants bring everything upstairs.
Sharon: Thank you very much!
( Thank god...So there wasn’t any mistake after all. )
Sharon: Oh! Right! I actually brought a little gift with me! They’re homemade muffins I made this morーー
*CRASH*
Sharon: ーー ning...!?
Startled by the loud noise, she drops the box with muffins.
*Thud*
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???: YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARD!! I swear once I get my hands on youーー! 
???: Ahaha! I can’t believe you actually fell for that one! Lame-o!
Reiji: ...
Shuu: Haah...
Sharon: ( H-Hold on, hold on, hold on! Eh? Eeeeh!? I’m not dreaming, right!? That person just punched a hole through the wall!? )
Reiji: Ahem. ...Allow me to introduce. The one who destroyed the wall is the youngest son, Sakamaki Subaru. Next to him is Sakamaki Ayato, the eldest of the triplets. 
ーー You two, explain this situation at once!
Ayato: ...Che. Reiji. I didn’t do anythin’! Not my fault that Subaru ate those prank chocolates I left out on the kitchen counter.
Subaru: Fuck off! You definitely did that on purpose! ...I can still feel my mouth burnin’...!!
Sharon: ( ...Prank chocolates? I guess he means those filled with mustard and other spicy condiments, right? I didn’t know people actually bought those. )
Ayato: Of course! I was hopin’ to catch Kanato. Can you imagine what kinda face he would make when poppin’ one of those bad boys in his mouth?
???: ...Say, did you hear that, Teddy? ...I hope Ayato sleeps with one eye open tonight. He might just run into...unfortunate accident.
Sharon: ...Eh!?
( Another person just appeared out of thin air!? )
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Ayato: Keh. The lunatic’s here.
Reiji: Sakamaki Kanato, the middle triplet. 
...Kanato, If you wish to commit a homicide, please do so outside of the walls of this manor. It takes forever to remove blood stains from the carpet.
Kanato: I don’t recall having to take orders from you.
ーー However, you’re lucky as I happen to be in a good mood right now. I believe I heard someone mention muffins? 
Sharon: ...Ah, yes! I made these myse...Huh? ...Oh.
Shuu: It’s not blood, but I think the carpet will need some cleaning regardless.
Reiji: Good grief...
Sharon: Oh no...! The box must have slipped from my fingertips when I heard the sudden crash and...
Ayato: Ah-ahー Look what you did, Subaru. It’s always the youngest child causin’ trouble.
Subaru: HAAH!? All of this started ‘cause you left those stupid chocolates out!
Sharon: ...They turned out really good too. What a shame.
Subaru: ...!! ...O-Oi...You...Um...My bad.
Kanato: ...Unforgivable. 
Sharon: Eh?
Kanato: ...HOW WILL YOU MAKE THIS UP TO ME!?
Sharon: ( W-Why is he getting upset at me all of a sudden!? It was obviously just an accident!? )
Um...I’m not sure...I could make some new ones later?
???: There, there, Kanato-kun~ Relax! Even if the muffins were wasted, there’s a delicious snack just waiting to be devoured...
*Rustle*
Sharon: ...!
( Someone wrapped their arms around me from behind!? )
???: ...Right here~ ...Nfu~
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Sharon: ...Eh!?
( I-Is he talking about me!? )
Reiji: ...And finally, the youngest triplet, Sakamaki Laito. 
Ayato: Oi, Laito! No way you’re gettin’ the first taste again! I still haven’t forgotten last time!
Laito: Eeeh~? It’s not my fault you’re so slow, Ayato-kun~ However, if you’re so insistent on taking a bite out of her, I wouldn’t mind sharing, you know? I’m sure it’d make for a refreshing and thrilling experience~
Ayato: Geh! In your dreams, you perv!
Sharon: ( Taste? Bite...? Why are they talking as if I’m their food!? )
Excusーー
Shuu: ...Strawberries.
Sharon: Eh?
Kanato: What are you talking about? I don’t see any strawberries around.
Reiji: Shuu. Explain yourself.
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Shuu: Your panties. They had strawberries on them.
Sharon: ...!!
( When did he...!? Ah! When I stepped on him...! )
Ayato: Pfftー!! Strawberries! How old are you, five? That’s hella lame!
Laito: Hm...~ Strawberries are not bad but with such a lovely body, I’m sure you could pull off something a little more erotic~
Subaru: ...
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Laito: Oh, my bad~ I forgot baby bro was in the room. I suppose talking about a woman’s underwear is still a little too much for him to handle.
Subaru: S-Shut up...!!
Reiji: ...Enough! No more on this topic! ...Haah. Is it really that much to ask for you lot to behave? Just for one day?
Ayato: ーー Anyway, Reiji. Who’s this chick anyway? Tonight’s dinner?
Sharon: D-Dinner...!? I’m sorry but...Why are you all talking as if I’m food or something!?
Ayato: Shut it! Nobody asked for your opinion, Ichigo Pantsu.
Sharon: I-Ichigo paーー!? I have a name...! ...It’s Sharon.
Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I-chi-go Pa-n-tsu.
Laito: Hm~ This Bitch-chan does smell sweet just like strawberries. Perhaps I should call you ‘Ichigo-chan’ instead~?
Kanato: She really does. I’m sure her blood would taste just as sweet...Oh? What’s that, Teddy? You’d like to have a taste? Fufu...Good idea. I was just feeling a little peckish myself.
Reiji: Haah...I shall be in my study room. ...Ayato, Kanato, Laito. Please treat our new resident with some respect. It would be a shame to lose another one so soon.
Sharon: ...Wait, please! I’m afraid I don’t quite grasp the situation yet!
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Reiji: Haah...Good grief. You must not be very smart, are you? Did you truly believe you would be allowed to stay here for free?
Sharon: ...Eh?
Laito: Nfu~ He’s right, Ichigo-chan. Everything in this world comes at a price. In your case...That would be the delicious blood pumping through your veins...
Sharon: M-My blood...? 
Ayato: Heh. You seriously haven’t realized?
Kanato: Teddy...Humans are truly so foolish, aren’t they?
Subaru: Che...Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush already and just tell her.
Shuu: We are Vampires. So the only thing a human such as yourself would have to offer, is your blood.
Reiji: In return, you will be allowed to stay here in this manor. Food, clothes and all other daily necessities willl be provided as well.
Sharon: Vam...pires? That must be some sort of joke, right? It was the Church who arranged this place for me! They would neverーー! 
Besides...Vampires only exist in fairytales!
Reiji: Good grief. This is why I simply cannot deal with humans. Not only are they incredibly foolish, they are horribly naive and trusting as well.
Subaru: In other words, you were set up. Just deal with it.
Sharon: ...
( No way, right...? This has to be some sort of mistake? Or a bad dream...? )
Shuu: Pwaah...Anyway, you guys do as you please. I’m going to my room to nap.
Subaru: I’m leaving too.
Reiji: Well then, if you’d excuse me now.
The three of them leave.
Sharon: ...
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Laito: Oh dear~? Is that despair I see in your eyes? You poor little thing! Don’t worry, Laito-kun wil make sure to comfort you. After all, there is no better cure for betrayal than pleasure.
Ayato: Don’t be so down, Ichigo Pantsu! It’s not that bad of a deal! You get to offer your blood to Yours Truly after all!
Kanato: Fufu...I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. If you’re lucky, you might even make it into my precious collection one day~
Sharon: ...!!
She suddenly pushes them away.
*THUD*
Ayato: ...Woah!?
Laito: ...Aah~ Not bad, Ichigo-chan! I like myself a feisty girl at times!
Kanato: Ugh! ...What are you doing!? I nearly dropped Teddy just now.
Sharon: ...
She runs upstairs.
Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway
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Sharon: Haah, haah, haah...
( Say, God...? )
( Is this my penalty...? )
( Are you punishing me for my crimes of the past...? )
Monologue
I just kept on running and running.
As said question repeated itself inside my head.
That must be it.
Those guys were exactly right. 
Humans are foolish. I was foolish. 
Foolish to believe I would be given a new home.
After all, people like me.
ーー They don’t deserve a happy ending.
ーー PROLOGUE: END ーー
[ Dark Prologue ] ->
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outofsstyles · 3 years
Text
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a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3
word count: 13.7k
warnings: none!
concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.
Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)
                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~
In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”
Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.
“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”
“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.
“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”
She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”
“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”
You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”
“Not the same.”
“I know.”
The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.
He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”
“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”
You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”
“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”
You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”
“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”
You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.
“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”
You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”
“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”
“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.
“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”
Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”
It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.
To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.
Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.
Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”
“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”
“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”
“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.
Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 
“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.
Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 
Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”
He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”
This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”
“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”
“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”
“I’m good.”
“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”
“I won’t!” You wave back.
Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.
A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.
                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~
The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.
As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 
She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.
What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.
You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.
“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”
You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”
“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.
“Do you not have lipstick?”
“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”
“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”
“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 
The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 
The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake
That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 
“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.
“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”
You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.
There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.
“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”
He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 
“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”
Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”
“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”
“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”
Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.
Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.
Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”
“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”
“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.
“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.
Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.
“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”
“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”
You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.
“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”
“Oh, yeah. I know him.”
The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 
Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”
Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 
Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 
So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.
The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.
As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 
“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”
“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”
You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 
It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.
He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.
He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.
But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”
You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 
Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.
And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.
It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 
The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.
But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.
That is, until now.
“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.
“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”
“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”
“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.
“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”
“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”
“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”
He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”
This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”
He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”
This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.
“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.
A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.
“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”
There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 
“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.
Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”
“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”
“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”
“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 
 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”
“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”
Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.
 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”
There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”
“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”
Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”
“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”
He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”
You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.
The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.
You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”
Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”
“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.
“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”
“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 
It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.
Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 
“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.
“Huh?” 
“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”
“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.
You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”
You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.
Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.
“What is it?”
“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”
“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”
“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”
You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”
Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 
And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.
A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.
“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”
You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”
“What?”
Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”
“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”
You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”
Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”
“Really?”
He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”
You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”
“Dangerous? Why’s that?”
Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 
There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.
“So, what’s next?” You prompt.
Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”
“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”
“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”
You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”
“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”
He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.
“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”
You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”
“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”
“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.
“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”
He laughs, “Are you sure?”
“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”
“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”
Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”
Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”
“No peeking.”
He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 
You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.
“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.
“Yes!”
And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”
“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.
“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.
“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”
“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 
The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.
“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”
“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.
“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”
You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”
Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”
“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”
“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”
Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”
“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.
You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”
Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 
Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.
It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”
“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”
“Sure, yeah.”
He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”
You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”
“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”
“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”
“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”
“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”
Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”
“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 
Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”
Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”
“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”
“I know mine.”
“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”
“Jennifer Aniston.”
“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”
“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”
“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”
The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.
Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”
“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”
“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”
You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”
Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”
“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”
“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”
“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.
“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”
Oh. “Oh.”
“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”
“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”
“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”
“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”
“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”
“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”
The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.
“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”
“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”
You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”
“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”
You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”
“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”
You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.
“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.
The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.
Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”
“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”
He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”
“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”
You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”
Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 
“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.
Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.
Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 
And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.
You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.
But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”
Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”
“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”
Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”
Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”
You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 
“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.
“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”
Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.
“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”
You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 
But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”
You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”
Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”
“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”
“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”
“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”
“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”
“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.
He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”
You frown, “Then, why did you?”
“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”
“I figured.”
Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”
Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 
Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.
Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”
“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.
“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”
“And you said yes.”
“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”
“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.
“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”
“At least you can admit to it.”
“I was a prick to both of you.” 
You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”
“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.
“It’s very easy to say that now.”
“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”
“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”
“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”
“Ouch.”
“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.
“That’s nice to hear, at least.”
“It is, yeah.”
You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”
He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”
You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”
Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”
You raise your brows, “Is it not?”
“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”
You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”
“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”
“Is that so?”
Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”
You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”
“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”
“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”
His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.
Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.
“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.
You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”
The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 
“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.
“Do it, then.” You tease.
Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 
First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.
“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”
Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”
This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.
It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”
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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years
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darkest truths : s.r
returning from his time in prison, spencer joins you and the team on a mission that takes a darker turn than you could’ve imagined. (2k) 
darkest truths / brightest lies 
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(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)
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Everyone was a tad nervous for Spencer to return, yet despite the team's anticipation to watch him walk through the glass doors to the bullpen, a few kept a close eye on you.
“Todays the day, huh?” Penelope nudges you, snapping you from your deep thought about the situation in hand.
Spinning in your chair, you hum in response. “Yeah, today is the big day.” You laugh lightly, but Penelope as always can see straight through you.
Tutting under her breath, she perches herself on the edge of your desk. “What is it? You didn’t have a fight or something last night?” Penelope asks, but you shake your head.
“No, we, we’re good, I promise you.” You reach out, resting your hand on her arm as you listen to a long sigh of relief from Penelope. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, but nothing I can’t handle.” You assure her, wanting to move the topic onward.
“Thank the heavens for that,” She rises to her feet happily. “I can’t have my forbidden lovers at a loss.” Penelope dramatically claims before a gasp sounds from her.
Leaning back, you catch sight of the reason for her gasp; Doctor Spencer Reid returning to the bullpen, something no one thought was a possibility for a short while.
“You’re back!” Penelope yells as she rushes over, enveloping Spencer into a tight hug.
Spencer hugs Penelope back, patting her back as he looks over at you with a small smile. You knew he was nervous about returning, he’d been up half the night talking to you over the phone as he rearranged his book collection for the twelfth time.
Quickly, everyone welcomed Spencer back with open arms. JJ was the last to greet him, having a quiet word before glancing over to you. “Don’t leave her waiting any longer, Spence.” JJ mutters to Spencer, patting his arm as she smiles your way.
Rising to your feet, Spencer hovers in front of you. “Welcome back, Doctor Reid.” You chuckle, even after all these years, some things never do change.
“It’s good to be back, Y/l/n.” He tells you, his hand reaching out for yours as he squeezes it lightly. “Thank you for last night, and staying on the phone.” Spencer mutters, feeling you squeeze his hand back for a moment.
“Anytime, Spence. You know that.” You whisper back, hugging him briefly just as Emily emerges from her office.
“I hate to say it now, but we’ve got a case.” She announces, and you all quickly file into the conference room.
Taking your seats, Spencer sits beside you as Penelope places all your files down. “Can’t say this is the warm welcome I expected to be giving to the good Doctor himself but seems serial killers refuse to take a day off.” Penelope states as she picks up her remote.
Shuffling forward in your seat, you watch closely, oblivious to Spencer glancing out of the corner of his eye. Yet, despite your lack of knowledge, Rossi could see it clearly. Spencer could barely take his eyes off of you, admiring the concentration as your brows furrow together, the determination and focus in your gaze as you listen intently to Penelope. Truth be told, Spencer missed it, more than he allows to let on.
“Today you’ll be heading to Beavercreek, Ohio. Within the past week, there have been three separate homicides. All three victims have yet to be identified and were found with eight gunshot wounds, one of which in the head, killing them.” Penelope shudders as you all look through the case files.
“Shot execution-style, efficient.” You comment, looking at the photos of the two male victims found on the outskirts of town, dumped with their ankles and wrists bound.
“Do we have any leads?” Tara asks, and Emily steps in.
“Since we have yet to identify our John and Jane Does, we’re going based on missing person reports within the past twelve months. These victims were all taken and killed recently, so our unsub isn’t keeping them long. Wheels up in thirty.” Emily explains.  “Oh, Y/n, mind if I have a word?” She asks, exiting the room as she heads to her office.
“Someones in trouble.” Luke jokes as you roll your eyes, but Spencer glances over as a look of concern crosses his expression.
“It’s fine, Spence.” You assure him. “You go ahead, I’ll be right behind.” You smile to him as he exits the conference room with JJ whilst you make your way over to Emily’s office.
“I know this is Spencer’s first day back, but I wanted to ask how you are.” Emily states as she gathers her things whilst you hover in the doorway.
Smiling softly, you nod. “I, I’m good.” You tell her, but Emily raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. “I promise, Em. I’m doing fine.”
“Okay,” She sighs, walking toward you. “but if there’s any change, you have to let me know, alright?”
“You got it, boss.” You salute to her as you both exit her office, catching up with the rest of the team as you enter the elevator.
*
Standing in the ME’s office, the sight before you made your stomach churn.
Usually, these sort of sights never had an effect on you, but something this time is different.
“Hey, you okay in there?” JJ asks, resting her hand on your arm as you snap from your daze as you stare at the bullet hole in the centre of the forehead, wishing that it was the only bullet hole on the John Doe.
“Sorry,” You mumble. “lost in thought for a second.” You clear your throat, stepping closer to the John Doe as you bend over, taking a closer look at the bruising on the wrists from the ropes. “So these victims were tied up, restrained and then shot seven times in the torso and once in the head?”
JJ walks over with the ME’s report in hand. “Actually,” JJ trails off and you stand up now, looking at her as her brows furrow. “it says seven shots were fired post mortem.”
“Why would the unsub shoot seven times after their victim was already dead? Seems like severe overkill.” You reason, and JJ hums. “Sometimes not adding up, we better let the others know.”
“Hold on,” JJ pauses, reading further into the report. “it says there’s something on each victim's mastoids.”
Turning around, you walk over and glance down. “It’s the letter T.” You tell JJ as she bends down beside you, taking a look for herself. “Could it be a signature?”
“I’m not sure.” She states. “Let me get the report for our first Jane Doe, see if there’s anything different for hers.”
As JJ exits the room, you exhale deeply and take a seat. “It’s fine, Y/n.” You tell yourself as you rest your hands against the cool metal cabinet behind you as you try to recompose yourself.
“Y/n,” JJ calls out. “we gotta talk to the team, look.”
Passing you the file, you sigh at the sight of what is on the Jane Doe’s ear.
“T & D?” You speak up, and JJ nods. “Let’s go.”
*
“Truth or Dare.” Spencer states as he stands in front of the boards. “Our unsub is playing truth or dare with our Jane and John Does. Answer truthfully, avoid being shot. Lie, and well.” He trails off as he motions to the pictures behind him.
“Any update on who our Does might be?” JJ asks as Penelope remains connected and the sound of her typing echoes through the line.
“I’ve found a potential match for our Jane Doe. Lucia Hanes, 24, went missing six months ago. On her way home from work but never arrived, reported missing since and never found.” Penelope explains.
“Garcia, can you-”
“I’ve sent you her families details to your tablets.” Penelope finishes before Emily could even ask.
Chuckling to yourself, you open your tablet, looking at the information. “Thanks, Pen.” You call out as you all split up, you and Luke heading to Lucia’s mother's house.
“So, how does it feel?” Luke asks as you pull up outside Marie Jakings house.
“How does what feel?” You question as you walk up the driveway, Luke behind you.
“Having Reid back?” He nudges you playfully. “Come on, he’s your guy, or whatever you two call it.”
Rolling your eyes, you knock on Marie’s door. “He’s my boyfriend, technically.” You comment, knowing Spencer has spent more time in jail than you have officially dating. “But my best friend first and foremost.” You add as the door opens.
“Hello?” Marie answers, crossing her arms as she looks between you and Luke.
“Ms Jakings?” Luke asks as he holds his badge out. “I’m Agent Alvez and this is Agent Y/L/N. We’re here regarding the disappearance of your daughter, Lucia Hanes.”
Marie’s hand rises as she covers her mouth, muffling a sob. “Ms Jakings, I understand this has been hard for you, but we’re only asking for a few minutes if that’s alright?” Your voice softens as Marie straightens up and stifles her sob, allowing you both inside.
Sitting in her living room, you can’t help but notice the pictures of Lucia covering the mantelpiece and as you blink, you can’t help but vision Lucia lying on that metal table, lifeless.
“Thank you for your time, Ms Jakings,” Luke speaks up as Marie sits opposite you, her hands shaking as she picks up her mug of coffee.
“Do you have kids?” She questions, looking between you both.
“I, no.” You stumble over your words as she simply nods.
“So you have no idea how hard this is? Your daughter goes to work and never comes home, and has potentially been a victim of, of a serial killer?” Marie’s voice cracks as tears fall from her eyes.
“Ms Jakings, I’m sorry, I truly am. But right now, we’re just trying to find any connection between your daughter and our unsub.” Luke explains, leaning forward whilst you swallow the vomit rising in your throat. “Was there anyone who would’ve wanted to hurt Lucia? Or had a problem with her?”
Marie hums to herself for a moment before glancing towards you. “No, she, she was a kind person. She studied hard, she was saving up to go travelling. I, I’ve never had an issue with her.” Marie states. “But, there was this incident in High School,” Marie mutters.
“An incident?” You ask. “What, what sort of incident?”
“Well, Lucia and her classmates took part in an online game. She told me it was something everyone was doing all around town.” Marie glances over to the framed photo of Lucia and herself on Lucia’s graduation. “I didn’t think much of it, none of the parents did.”
“What game was this?” Luke speaks up, now taking his phone out to record the conversation between the three of you.
“Truth or dare.” Marie tells you both, noticing the look shared between you and Luke.
“Ms Jakings, I think it’s best if we bring you into the station, for your own safety and we can continue the conversation there.” You explain as you rise to your feet, Marie complying.
“I’ll call Garcia, have her check into the history of this game in the school.” Luke comments as you walk out to the SUV with Marie.
As you all sit in the SUV, Luke pulls away whilst you sit in the back with Marie. “It’s to do with that game, isn’t it?” Marie asks, her voice shaking now as you remain silent. “I knew it would catch up with them.” She mutters.
“Ms Jakings, what do you-”
Before you could finish your sentence, Luke yells as a force collides with the car. Immediately you’re knocked to the side, slamming your head against the window as you faintly hear Luke calling your name until everything becomes black.
PART TWO
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