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amar-bell · 7 months ago

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I ALWAYS COME BACK CHAPTER 10

Cassie was walking ahead, looking behind her now and then to ensure that Gregory was following her, and every time she saw him, she felt a sort of relief flood through her. She couldn't shake the sinking feeling that someone was watching the two of them, and that feeling was giving her goosebumps.

She hugged herself tightly, biting down on her bottom lip. Gregory hadn't talked to her about their mutual feelings for each other. Cassie had, of course, tried to bring it up. Multiple times. He never talked about it. She was hoping that today at the zoo, she'd be able to find a time to talk about it.

Cassie heard paper hitting against something metal, and she turned to look behind her. Gregory had thrown the paper that held his burger in a trashcan. "We should be reaching in a few minutes right?" He asked, adjusting his jacket. Cassie blushed, silently hoping it wasn't visible. "Yeah, we're almost there." She responded, adjusting her purple shirt before stuffing her hands in her pocket, looking blankly ahead, and the two continued to walk in silence.

After the entity possessed her through the rabbit mask, she wasn't able to express emotions as well as she used to. Anger and irritation came easy, but joy, sadness? Those were constantly turned off. Her adoptive parents took her to a therapist, assuming it to be some mental health issue, but the therapist saw nothing wrong.

Her parents tried their best to get her to smile, but eventually, they just gave up. No one had tried to get her to smile so adamantly, not like Gregory, just adding to the reasons why she liked him. Even now, he was joking, trying to get her to laugh. It wasn't working.

"Hey? Earth to Cassandra Nightingale~" Gregory's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked over at him. "Yeah?" "We're here." She looked straight ahead, and there was the zoo. Cassie paid for two tickets, all while Gregory insisted that he'd pay her back using his pocket money, which Cassie refused to accept. The two went inside and started to look around.

"Which animal do you want to see first?" Gregory asked her. Cassie looked through the pamphlet that the official had given her, reading through the different exhibits. "We could go to the small animal building?" Cassie suggested, looking up, gesturing to the building she wanted to go to. "Sounds good." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and the two of them walked to the building. Cassie was silent for most of the time, only speaking when Gregory asked her a question on one of the animals in any of the exhibits.

They were at Utah's Hogle Zoo. There were a total of 8 exhibits, 'African Savanna', 'Rocky Shores', 'Asian Highlands', 'Wild Utah', 'Great Apes', 'Primate Forest', 'Small animal building' and the 'Rhino Exhibit'.

Both of them soon lost track of time, and at some point, Cassie simply handed the pamphlet off to Gregory, letting him take the lead. She had stopped watching the animals, her gaze was trained on Gregory, listening to him talk on and on. It was refreshing to see him so happy, especially after the last few weeks. If she could feel some joy, she would have at the sight of her friend.

Hours passed by like a blur, and soon it was evening. Gregory decided to grab something to eat, before dropping Cassie home. They decided to stop at a small restaurant and grabbed some food. The clerk there suggested that the two could go to the beach, after seeing Cassie's relentless flustered staring. She winked at her while they left. Cassie felt grateful.

On their way there, (Gregory was walking ahead while Cassie followed close behind), Cassie noticed that someone was.. Following them. A person dressed in a hoodie which obscured their face, their hands in the pockets of their jeans.

Cassie grabbed Gregory's hand, interlocking it while squeezing it. Hard.

A blush spread across Gregory's face, until he noticed her panicked expression. "What's wrong?" He asked. Cassie shushed him, placing her finger on his lips. "Someone is following us."

Gregory's eyes went wide, and looked back, his head turning to face front instantly. "You're right." "Of course I am?! Why would I lie?" "Good point." They held onto each other's hand tightly, walking as fast as they could, both of them shaking visibly. "What do we do?" Gregory asked, gripping the bag of food in case the situation called for a weapon. "Isn't your house close to the beach, I'm sure we're two minutes away from it. We could go in and lock the door." She responded. "You're right. That's a great plan, great like you Cassandra~" Cassie rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the blush that spread across her cheeks.

The two of them speed-walked their way to Gregory's house and checked behind them once. The person was.. Nowhere to be seen. Releasing a sigh of relief, they went inside and locked the door.

They had chosen to eat their dinner on the rooftop, a picnic blanket spread on the ground along with a carton of strawberry milkshake and a bowl of chocolate-covered blueberries that Vanessa had provided.

"Tonight, there will be shooting stars in the sky!" Freddy had declared, pointing out a window ecstatically, so the other three would join them when it was about to start. Vanessa had been making plans with Roxy to retrieve Monty and Chica soon, they were both in dire condition, so she had prepared charts and blueprints to fix them. Gregory had commented on how many there were, she hadn't needed these many to fix Roxy and Freddy!

Cassie let Gregory rant on and on for a while, content to just listen to him. He talked so much and had so much to say, it was adorable. A smile spread across her face at the sight of him, so engrossed in what he said that she didn't notice it, but Gregory did.

"You're smiling!" He cheered, instantly making her stop, and he deflated like a popped balloon. "Aw.. You smiled.. I should've kept quiet and I would've seen it longer!" Cassie looked away, a slight blush on her face, picking up a blueberry from the bowl and popping it into her mouth.

"Hey," Gregory called out. "Yeah?" "Remember the day we first met?" Cassie chuckled at the thought of that day. It was her birthday, and no one had shown up. Roxy had stayed with her until she had to go see another child. Cassie was crying in the room when Gregory spotted her. He stayed with her that day and made her feel special. He gave her a tissue to wipe the makeup running down her face and ate pizza and cake with her until her father got back.

"Of course. I never forgot. I mean, I looked like a squid when you met me." Gregory rolled his eyes. "I think that was the appeal for me." He responded, leading to Cassie moving over to hit him on the shoulder. "Hey!" Gregory squealed, grabbing her waist and falling back, letting her lay on top of him. The two laughed for a few minutes, Cassie rested her head on his shoulder, and Gregory brought one hand to her head.

"You laughed a lot today.." He whispered. "I think we're making progress.." Cassie looked up at him, only now taking in how close they were. Gregory seemed to notice too, and a blush spread across his pale cheeks.

Cassie leaned closer, hoping to brush her lips against his for a kiss, and it almost seemed like Gregory was leaning closer too. They were so close, barely any space left, she could feel him exhaling.

"Oooh shit! They're about to kiss!" She heard a female voice say, making Cassie jump away from Gregory, scrambling back and looking over at the doorway.

Vanessa cringed, giving the two an awkward smile. "Whoops~ Sorry." Roxy groaned behind her. "They were so close. Did you have to speak Manford?" The animatronic spoke up. "My name is Vanessa! And I'm sorry, I didn't think they'd hear." The ex-nightguard mumbled, looking away. "We shouldn't have eavesdropped in the first place," Freddy spoke up, going inside and sitting down next to Gregory. "Yeah, you shouldn't have." The brunette responded, not looking at Cassie. Roxy flopped down next to her. "Manford said that the shooting stars should be showing up now." She said, earning a glare from Vanessa, who sat down next to Gregory. "Yeah, they should. Sorry if we disturbed anything." Cassie shook her head, shaking her hand dismissively. "It's fine."

Soon, the stars shot across the sky, and Vanessa urged everyone to make a wish, so they all closed their eyes and did just that. Cassie wished that they could remove the thing in her head, and for all of them to live a happy life as a family. She wished that when Gregory gave her one of those dazzling smiles, she'd be able to smile back at him. When she opened her eyes, she found Gregory staring at her. He blushed when he was caught and smiled at her, and it made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, Cassie!" Vanessa called out, patting the spot next to her while grabbing the bowl of blueberries and the carton of milkshake. "Come sit here. You too Roxy." The two girls did just that, and soon they were all cuddling together. For once, Cassie felt happy and safe, engaging in conversation as they all spent time together. Her adoptive parents were amazing, but this? This they never did. This was what Cassie wished for. Her head was in Vanessa's lap, while Freddy and Roxy were sitting next to her, having shut themselves off for the night. Gregory was cuddling from the other side, and this felt nice, she didn't want it to end.

But eventually, it had to. "Come on kids, time to go to bed. Cassie, your parents sent your things during the afternoon, you can have a sleepover." Gregory cheered, and Cassie hugged her tightly, which the ex-nightguard returned. "No funny business!" Ness immediately warned the two teens. "God shut up Ness." Gregory immediately responded. "I won't. Now run along. It's a school night."

There was a loud 'BANG!' like the door had been broken down, startling everyone. Even the animatronics were woken up. "What the hell was that?!" Vanessa squealed, looking at the door. "We should check," Freddy responded. "We should yeah. I'll get the bat in my room." Gregory ran down the steps, closely followed by Freddy. "Carrots come on, we'll get some weapons," Roxy said, grabbing Cassie's hand and going downstairs.

Cassie's heart was pounding in her chest, and her thoughts returned to the evening. It couldn't be that person following them. They had lost them. They weren't they when Cassie had looked behind her before returning. Or maybe they had been there. Hiding. Watching. Cassie cursed herself. She should've been more careful. She should've called the police! She had now put them in trouble.

Now, all she could hope was that they'd be able to save themselves now.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #ruin #security breach #cassie #freddy #gregory #roxy #roxxanne wolf #Vanessa

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noriiii04 · 1 year ago

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WEEK 1 - ANIMATION PRINCIPLES

Animation is just the persistence of movement, it is images played fast to create an illusion of movement. Animation is ultimately nothing more than an optical illusion. It's the result of our brains being unable to process what we're seeing quickly enough. As a result, it just blends them into one - i.e. motion.

That is usually 24 images per second, which in technical terms is 24 frames per second.

The best way to understand what animation really is, is zoetropes. The first zoetrope ever created was by Ghibli, which inspired Pixar to do the same.

Animation History

The first every fully human cartoon was actually Betty Boop, produced in the 1930s, but the first ever animation was made by Stuart Blackton, named "The Enchanted Drawing" in 1900 with an actor doing prop work infront of his projected animation of a man changing expressions. Then, in 1906, Blackton created a second animation called "Humorous Phases of Funny Faces" with no actor this time and just his animation. It consisted of a man walking up to a chalkboard and drawing some characters, which then come to life in animation and begin interacting.

Stuart Blackton is valued as the father of animation, as he introduced animation to the world and shaped the cinematic art development.

In 1908, Émile Cohl, created the first ever fully animated movie with no live action whatsoever. Émile Cohl was a comic artist and animator, specialising in caricatures as well. Becoming famous in a scandal where he drew caricatures ridiculing French president Patrice MacMahon, he then, later in life changed his career path and became a scriptwriter for the film company Gaumont where he also made animated special effects for movies.

Inspired by Stuart Blackton, Cohl created "Fantasmagorie". As there were no books or ways to study animation at that time, Cohl studied Blackton's animation frame by frame and created the first fully animated cartoon.

Blackton created his animation by drawing on a chalkboard, then filming one by one in sequence, whereas Cohl's animation was drawn on hundreds of papers first; then filmed one frame at a time, and due to the similarity of Cohl's animation style and the modern animation style; his cartoon is deemed as the first proper animated cartoon.

Then the first coloured animation was "Flowers and Trees" produced by Walt Disney. It was the first animated short to be filmed with a three-strip technicolour camera.

The 12 Animation Principals

Squash and stretch

Anticipation

Staging

Straight-ahead action and pose-to-pose

Follow through and overlapping action

Slow in and slow out

Arc

Secondary action

Timing

Exaggeration

Solid drawing

Appeal

The 12 Animation Principals are the "rules" of animation that are followed by all animators to make sure their animation is appealing and technical.

They were outlined by Ollie Johnston and Frank Thomas in the book "The Illusion of Life: Disney Animation" in 1981 and still hold up till today.

Different types of Animation vary in process.

After further discussing the animation processes like the frames per second, most animations being 24 frames per second, we had a go animating with whatever we had laying around.

Me and another student got together in a small group and created a quick one second animation of my bunny keychain doing a backflip, using my gloves as the "floor" and creating the illusion that it is standing, when it is just laying down on a desk. The process was quick, easy and fun and it was a good exercise to practice animation.

All of our frames that we put together.

Sources:

https://www.lambiek.net/artists/c/cohl_emile.htm

https://www.britannica.com/biography/J-Stuart-Blackton

https://www.fudgeanimation.com/journal/the-evolution-of-animation-a-timeline

https://lesley.edu/article/the-12-principles-of-animation

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cemetery-circus · 3 years ago

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Do you have any more Bruno headcanons? Your one about him being grumpy was perfect lmao

Oh dude

• When he was younger whenever Agustín or Félix came over, Bruno would announce their arrival with the same teasing "PEPA/JULIETA, YOUR BOYFRIEND'S HERE" his eventual nephew would pull. Pepa would get huffy and embarrassed and zap him a little and Julieta would shove extra food into his mouth to shut him up and Bruno would be amused like the bastard "little" brother he is the entire time

• Bruno (and Pepa and Julieta) is a fairly good dancer and singer! Alma taught him and sisters from a young age, wanting the three of them to look nice in a way that she hoped, at the time, was fun for them at the celebrations for years to come. Bruno isn't perfect in either regard, he never was and he's very rusty after all this time, but he can certainly carry a nice tune on his own and could teach his nieces and nephews how to dance (after he relearns how to do it himself first)

• Tío Bruno is the head babysitter, hands down. When all the other adults are out the house and Bruno is left in charge, the young ones think it'll be a piece of cake getting to do whatever they want. Bruno couldn't parent his way out of a paper bag, let alone simply adult his way out. The day would be nothing but fun and freedom

Could not have been more wrong if they tried.

Not only is Bruno strict about the rules that have been left behind, he's also one step ahead of all of them. Bruno uses his gift to glimpse into the near future every handful of minutes to predict when his nephews and nieces are up to some shit.

Antonio about to fall off his jaguar? Bruno is there to (messily) catch him.

Mirabel finally convincing Casita to let her Isabelas room for completely innocent reasons? Bruno walks by and scoops her up and carries her off while she insists wasn't gonna do anything.... well, not anything Isa couldn't deal with

Camilo checks the entire house for Bruno and, when he's certain he is safe, goes to sneak extra snacks he's sure his tía won't miss. And there's his tío, leaning casually against the pantry and pointing Camilo back to the living room.

Now, while he is strict, Bruno isn't all that stern. Yes, he keeps to the rules and keeps the kids all out of trouble, but once the potential "my sisters will kill me if I allow this to happen" situation is handled, Bruno has no problem in being the proper clown uncle he's meant to be. He rides on the animals alongside Antonio to make sure he stays safe while he has his fun, he helps Mirabel plan a prank on her sister that'll result in a lot less Being Grounded, and he brings Camilo a better snack to split than the ones he was after and shrugs as he tells Camilo to tell Julieta that he ate them all himself.

Bruno is 100% the fun uncle, but he isn't going to let you jump off the roof to see if you can fly, especially when your mom told you not to, sorry bout it, kid

• I love the growing headcanon that Bruno can and will sleep just about anywhere at any moment. People move him to somewhere more comfortable if they find him at the table or just straight up curled up like a cat on the floor, but it's starting to become hard to tell if moving him to the couch is a good idea at all. Not because it's bad for him or the furniture, but more so because it starts a chain of people coming to rest with him, often starting with Luisa and just growing from there. Antonio is always a close second and Dolores a third, all three of them claiming Bruno to radiate this kind of calming peace when he's sleeping, but it rarely takes long before half of the Madrigals are crowded and cuddled up on and around the couch, either half awake or fast asleep.

• Bruno adores the feeling of the sun. If he can't be found in the house, he's probably sitting outside or taking a walk in the forest to feel the sunshine on his face after so long without it

• Bruno is very good at doing hair. Growing up with two sisters made him an absolute expert at weaving braids and tying up buns and ponytails and even stylization of them, always wanting his sisters to look good for their dates even if he teased them through the hairpins held between his teeth as he worked. Isabela was ecstatic to find about his skills and comes to him almost every morning to get her hair done and do his in return, giving him a style that he will protect with his life throughout the entire day

#encanto #encanto spoilers #bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #agustín madrigal #alma madrigal #abuela madrigal #encanto headcanons #bruno madrigal headcanons

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years ago

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Feeling like a family

Summary: Y/n visits Harry during his lunch break, letting him in on the relationship both her and Milo have with Xavier. Then they go to the zoo and have a little family day :)

warning/ disclaimers: swearing, family issues.

Things have been going amazing with Harry and Y/n. Ever since their date a couple weeks ago they have been seeing each other more and more. Harry has been coming into her bookshop while she’s working when he can. Just to surprise her and make her day a little better, sometimes he brings her lunch on the weekends and she visits him when he is spending hours after school hours grading art work and setting projects up for his students.

It’s been new and exciting, and extremely fun. Not to mention the kissing has definitely been a plus. They went to have coffee with each other a couple days after their date, spending a good portion of the morning together. They have basically been inseparable since, Harry even invited Y/n and Milo over for dinner so they could all get to know each other better. Loralie was just excited to have guests that weren't family, and also to see a friend from school outside of school. She had a great time with Milo, they played together while Harry and Y/n cleaned up dinner together and snuck kisses in the kitchen.

It's another Wednesday. Harry had Loralie and Milo's class now and he is letting them finger paint. It’s mainly been a calm class, he didn’t have to deal with much usually and if a kid did have a melt down the teacher and/or teachers assistant would deal with it instead of making Harry deal with it. “Looks great, Lora,” Harry says, kissing the top of Loralies head before scooting past her and walking over to his messy desk. He has papers, projects, markers, paints, all over his desk, even with all the time he spends after school he feels like he may never get it organized.

“My mummy likes your daddy.” He hears, looking up to see Milo and Loralie talking. His cheeks turn crimson when he hears it, did they really give it away that easy? Their children now caught onto the fact that the two were dating? That was just embarrassing. “My daddy likes your mummy.” But that was more embarrassing.

Harry ignores it (and the burning in his cheeks) and just hopes that the teacher will hush the class. He busies himself with cleaning his desk, trying to shove the papers into the drawers and file folders that they belong to but his mind is still distracted. He’s gonna have to tell Y/n that their kids know. The bell rings and he looks up from his desk. “Okay, you can leave your paintings where they are. I'll put them on the drying rack and you’ll get them tomorrow!” Harry sings, moving over to Loralie to kiss her cheeks and say a goodbye until he sees her at lunch time. “Bye daddy” she says, waving to him after kissing his cheek and joining her class.

Harry laughs, letting out a sigh and putting the messy finger paintings on one of his many drying racks. It’s his lunch time now. He has to supervise lunch so he gets his break before everyone else.

He wanders around his class room, doing random things and cleaning up his messes that he’s made from the two days of the week before him. He didn’t have plans for lunch, he would probably just have an extra big dinner. He’s happy to find Y/n cured his rumbling tummy when he sees her walking through his classroom. He smiles, chuckling at her big dramatic smile that was obvious teasing. “Hi, darling.” He says, leaning over his desk to press a kiss to her lips.

She sits on the art table in front of his desk, setting two to-go boxes down. “Hi,” she says back, handing him one of the to-go boxes. “No sitting on the tables.” Harry teases while he reaches out to take the white Styrofoam box in his hands, quickly thanking her. “Suck it up.” She shrugs, her feet setting in the chair that was once tucked under the art table. “I just got you a sub and fries.” She says, plucking a chip from her box and taking a bite out of it.

“Why Are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.” He smiles, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. She shrugs, tapping her shoes down on the chair while she pulls her food into her lap. “I forgot to put Milo's' lunch box in his backpack so I had to drop it off.” She says, making Harry smile. So he thought she would have lunch with him? She’s adorable. “So how’s your week been, babe?” Harry sings, sitting back in his big office hair and relaxing into it while he eats.

“Fine. Milo's dad visited.” What?! Since when did he come around? And since when was he “Milo's dad” and not “Xavier”? Harry knits his brows, gulping down his food before he responds, a little nervous. Harry and Milo are best buds, they have grown closer and he’s tried to pay him more attention when he sees him in class as well, he doesn’t want their friendship to be ruined now, even though what he is thinking is selfish. Milo deserves a good daddy.

“Since when does he come around?” He asks, Y/n rolling her eyes at his tone. “He’s a photographer so he’s always traveling the world. I mean he pays child support, he’s not a shit dad. I just have my own issues with him.” She says, her tone heavy with annoyance. Harry was under the impression that he was a horrible dad and didn’t even try to care for Milo, but now he hears he pays child support and visits?

“I just thought he didn’t care.”

“Well… he’s trying. Like I said he’s traveling the world so he can’t always see him but he pays child support and he’s trying to come around more. He did come over and take some cute photos of Milo though.” Y/n smiles, remembering how her baby posed so well for the camera. He was shy at first but then they found a stray kitty out on a walk and he was more than willing to pose with it.

Harry nods, taking a bite out of his sub. He finishes his bite and wipes his mouth with the brown paper napkins, “Is he gonna take Milo for the night or something like that?” Harry questions. Y/n is happy that Xavier is trying to see him more but she doesn’t think she would be able to be away for a night, especially when he doesn’t see Milo that much anyways. “I don’t think I would be comfortable enough to let Milo stay with him, for now at least. But he’s flying off and leaving Friday so I don’t have to worry.” Y/n confesses, taking a bite of her sub while she waits for Harry’s response.

“Yeah, I understand that.”

They eat together before Y/n deems it time for her to go. Giving him a hug and a kiss goodbye before she heads out and opens the book shop back up, letting Harry finish out his day.

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Harry and Y/n had made plans to take their little ones to the zoo. Y/n told Harry that Milo had been going on and on about lions so it was the perfect time for them to go. Harry has packed up Loralies stroller, putting snacks, his wallet, and her diaper bag in the bottom carrier. Luckily (but also unluckily) Milo is at the age where he does not want to be in a stroller, every time Y/n tries to put him in it while they are out he complains and tries to get out of it the whole time.

Harry had picked them up, driving about an hour to the zoo. Milo and Loralie babbled to each other the whole ride which made their parents happy- meanwhile they were just humming to the radio and making small talk the whole ride.

“Are you ready to see the lions?” Y/n coos to Milo, pulling him out of his car seat and setting him on the ground, holding his hand so he doesn’t run off in the car park. Harry pulls Loralie out, pulling out her stroller from the back, preparing to put her in it. “No! I walk today.” Loralie says with a bit of aggression in her voice. Harry hands with his hand up defensively, “okay, but you're gonna want it after walking in the heat for hours.” Harry takes her stroller despite her not wanting to be in it, she takes Harry's hand instead, walking next to Milo.

Their first stop is the stingrays, getting the food from the people who work there then getting down in front of the large pond to pet their slimy skin. Milo and Loralie giggle the whole time, pulling their hands away as soon as they feel like slimy stingray and making dramatic gross faces that make their parents laugh. The kids definitely had fun feeding them and petting them but Harry and Y/n instantly shipped them off to the bathroom so they could wash their hands.

Next is the walk through aquarium, “come on, it's this way.” Y/n says, cooing down at Milo and fast walking toward the cave shaped aquarium. When they walk inside it's lit up blue. They look all around them and they see lots of fish, big whales, all different things. “Woah!” Loralie exclaims, making Harry laugh, kissing her cheeks. All of a sudden Milo breaks out in loud giggles, pulling at the length of her mom jeans. “Mama, Look!” Milo giggles, pointing to a fish sticking to the aquarium glass, looking like it's making a silly face at everyone. Y/n laughs, squatting down and wrapping her arm around Milo, resting a hand on his belly. “Let's go see them” Y/n says, pulling him up on her hip and kissing over his cheeks. She takes him over to the silly fish while Harry lets Loralie look around, staring above her at the large fish swimming by until she stumbles back. Harry catches her, standing her back up and taking her over where Milo and Y/n are, showing her the fish that Milo was trying to touch through the glass.

“He's so cute.” Harry compliments, laughing at how Milo's is so obsessed with the silly looking fish. Y/n turns to look at Harry, thanking him cockily- taking all the credits for his adorableness. Harry bumps his nose with hers in a butterfly kiss while their kids are looking straight ahead. He gives her a peck while the kids are still distracted then he turns back to the fish. “Okay, it's time to go look at the animals!” Harry cheer, pulling Loralie off of the ledge she was standing on.

They walk through the entrance of all the animals, seeing some monkeys. Loralie and Milo start to imitate the monkeys, giggling at each other and the animals. They move onto koalas, waving at the cuddly animals before they get to see the lions- this is what Milo has been waiting for. “ROAR!” Milo yells, trying to climb on the wooden fence between the people and lions. Y/n giggles at him, pulling him off the fence and on her hip. “You’re a baby lion, aren’t you?” Y/n coos, kissing his forehead. Milo nods before she pulls him in her hands, extending him out. “Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba!” She sings, making the boy giggle, roaring again before she pulls him back in, kissing all over his face, making him squeal and push away.

Meanwhile Loralie wants to pet the real baby lions. She’s got a frustrated face on since Harry didn’t let her climb over the fencing and pet the furry lions. Harry can’t help but laugh at her. They walk a bit more, walking for a while until they go to their next exhibit.

It’s all calm until Milo starts screaming. He sees a bird wandering free, it was a large blue bird with huge feathers framing its head. Y/n knew that the peacock was harmless, they wouldn't let it wander free if it was, but Milo was gonna be scared of it regardless. “No, no!” He yells, backing away from the bird, trying to scold it for just walking around. Y/n laughs while Milo grips onto her leg, wagging his finger at the bird and yelling at it for scaring him. “It’s not gonna get you, bubba.” She laughs, pulling him into her hip while they get to the penguin house.

They walk into the cold penguin house, their noses instantly crinkling from the smell. “Brrr” Loralie says, running her arms up and does while her teeth chatter. Harry laughs, tossing her little jacket over her shoulder to warm her up. “Look at the baby penguin.” Harry coos to Loralie, holding her up to the glass so she can wave at the little puffins. “Tiny!” She squeals, waving at the baby penguins.

“Yeah,” Harry laughs at her. “They are tiny, Lora.” He agrees with her, giving the back of her head a kiss before settling her back down on the ground, letting her wander off a few feet away to look around at the penguins a bit more before they leave and look at the polar bears.

After the polar bears, they head to the gift shop, Loralie gets a purple bucket hat with a blue monkey on it and a stuffed penguin she named “tiny”. Milo got a shirt of the name of the zoo and a matching stuffed penguin that he couldn’t choose a name for just yet.

They head back to the car, Loralie’s legs are tired on the walk but she refuses to go in her stroller, instead Harry holds her while they take the long walk back, one arm holding Loralie up to his hip and the other latched with Y/n’s hand while her other hand holds Milo's. Once they get to the car Loralie and Milo get buckled up in their car seats, sure to fall asleep soon.

Harry and Y/n get into the front seats, their hands instantly finding the others. “I had a nice day with you.” Harry smiles, his face only inches from hers. Y/n blushes, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I had a lot of fun.” She says, focusing on Harry’s thumb rubbing at the back of her hand. They hear little whispers and giggles, turning their heads back to their little ones. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” They whisper- chant. Their parents' cheeks instantly burn, looking back to each other with big cheesy smiles on their faces.

“Well?” Harry shrugs, leaning in and pressing his lips to her. She giggles on his lips, both of the kids in the back yelling. “Ew!” Loralie says. “Gross!” Milo agrees.

The parents laugh, pressing one last peck to each other's lips before Harry starts up the car. They had a good day together. Harry got closer to Milo and Y/n got closer to Loralie. It kinda feels like they are becoming a little family.

Hii!! if you liked this please reblog and tell me what you thought of it!! please let me know if you would like to be on my tag list!! and please make sure you have read the first two parts :)

tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

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kimnjss · 4 years ago

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unconscious confession | jhs

⤑ series: heartbreaker

⤑ pairing: stoner!hoseok x cheerleader!reader

⤑ genre: fluff !!

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.4 // unedited

⤑ warnings: use of recreational drugs..!!

⤑ A/N: hiiii! thanks to everyone who has been reading along so far and giving me feedback with each and every update !! i really appreciate it honestly it’s a really big motivator for me. sooo i hope you like this part as well, don’t forget to let me know what you think . and also it’s this hoseok walking around lmao .

OCTOBER 3RD, 2020 | 19:26

Hoseok showed up to the game while the players were still practicing and you and the rest of the squad were in the middle of stretches. He looks effortlessly handsome from the quick glimpse you get before he's slumping down onto the metal. Focus on tucking each crumble of weed into the paper, but he'd occasionally steal glances at you on the field.

And your eyes meet each and every time. He played into the casual feel he wanted to set for tonight, an oversized pale yellow shirt underneath his light denim jacket. The pants he wears matches the jean of his jacket but are covered in rips, hair being held back by a headband. You've never noticed it before, but staring at him from the field when you really should be stretching had you realizing how well he carried himself. All of the time.

Thankfully, you're able to keep focus while you're actually cheering. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that rises in your chest at the sight of him cheering for you (it's not for the players on the field who are losing, badly). He even waves cutely at you as you're being thrown in the air and you consider ruining your form to wave back. But decide against it, Jimin would throw a fit.

His attention is on you from kickoff through overtime, taking the steps two at a time as the players line up to congratulate the winning team. “Ooh. Here comes your biggest fan,” Jimin points out from beside you, slightly breathless from the back-to-back routines.

You're gulping down mouthfuls of water, so you actually don't see when Hoseok makes his way over to you. Not until Jimin's words are registering and your head is whipping around to catch the wide smile on his pretty face. He doesn't hesitate to drop his arm over your shoulders, easily tucking your body into his side.

Instantly, you're engulfed in the familiar scent of him. The subtle stench of weed masked by his sweet cologne. You've never been around a guy who smelt as sweet as Hoseok always did, used to the overpowering stink of AXE body spray, but you're convinced he's never purchased a bottle.

He's offering a quick nod of acknowledgment to Jimin, which is met with a halfhearted wave as he leans down to tie his laces. “You were pretty cool cheering,” He tries to be nonchalant with his compliment, eyes focused on the sky as he talks. Which is pointless, you already caught the way he had been cheering from the crowd.

“'Pretty cool', that's it?” There's a playful smirk on your lips that he finds way more inciting than he should. But, he's determined to keep his cool in front of you so all he does is lift his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Yeah, pretty cool.” He repeats in the same tone as before.

You don't even bother to mask the snicker that sneaks past your lips. “I put my leg behind my head it was just 'pretty cool'? Maybe you need an up-close demonstration?” It's the one that you use that catches him off guard, highlighting the meaning behind your suggestion.

He stumbles slightly, eyes widening slightly. That was obviously something he's thought about before... respectfully. This wasn't the first time he's seen what your body could do and it never failed to get his mind wandering. Of course, he's thought if he had the chance to sleep with you, would you pull out the same tricks you do on the field. Who wouldn't wonder that with someone they were pursuing?

But, the fact that you were mentioning it. Hinting at it like you were planning for exactly that to happen, that was a whole different ballpark. And it's obvious from the slightly dazed look in his eye, that you can't help but laugh at. Pulling him from his thoughts with the sound of your laugh.

“You're funny,” You say through your laughter, which he's quickly catching on to – soft chuckles leaving his lips.

He leads you all the way to the locker rooms, where he waits outside for you to change out of your uniform and into the sweater and jeans you had picked out for your date. Compliment at the edge of his tongue the moment you're stepping out, arm dropping back down around your shoulder.

While the two of you walk to his car, he fills you in on the hilarious thing Jeongguk did that morning. And you laugh along with him. Like an actual laugh, not one of those forced ones to boost his ego. He's animated as he speaks, gesturing wide and goofy voices tagged as his friend's voices.

You're a few steps from his car when he's rushing ahead of you, pulling the car door open before dramatically gesturing to it. “M'lady,” He says as you pass him and you know he's just kidding, but your heart skips a beat.

There's got to be something wrong with you, you're sure of it. You've been on tons of dates in the past and here you were all warm and fuzzy inside and the date has barely started. It was comforting being around Hoseok, though. As if you've always known him, you hardly had to do any thinking when you texted and it was no different in person.

You can't help but wonder if it felt like that for him too. A connection like that can't just go unnoticed, right? Or maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. “Will you tell me now where we're going?” You're asking as he's settling into the space beside you, tugging his seatbelt around his waist.

“I won't tell you until we're there.” You had spent the entire night before trying to guess where he was taking you, which was no use. The shrug emoji was a favorite of his you were quickly realizing. “It's really cool, though. You're gonna like it,” He says with a grin.

If that was supposed to ease your curious mind, it does the exact opposite. A place he was sure you were going to like? How would he know? Talked for seven days straight, but that's only one week. Do you really know what someone likes after one week?

Hoseok's quiet the entire car ride, a small smile playing on his lips as he drives. You're too busy striking out possible date locations to make any conversation, so the soft sound of his music is the only noise that fills the car. He's humming along to the beat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, hair being swept by the wind. He's something out of a movie, it's hard to really focus on anything else.

Ten whole minutes pass of you shamelessly admiring his profile before he's shoving the car into park. “We're here,” Arms stretched out in front of him and your eyes squint, figuring you're missing something. “Where's here?” You're asking when you can't find the answer for yourself.

Hoseok lets out a small laugh, hand reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. “You gotta get out to see it,” He's at your door seconds later, pulling it open and offering his hand out to you. Which you take, allowing him to pull you from the warmth and into the night wind. With his fingers laced with yours, he leads you away from the car.

You were standing on a cliff and the closer you get to the edge, the prettier it gets. Lights from the city below twinkling, but it looks so quiet. “You can see everything up here,” His fingers are still laced with yours, forgotten between you. “Right. I like to come here sometimes and just look,” Even with the endless conversation the two of you shared throughout the week, there were still quite a few things you didn't know about him.

Like the fact that he had a spot or the reason, he felt like he needed one in the first place. “How come you wanted to have our date here?” Aren't spots supposed to be private? Wouldn't showing you where he goes to 'just look', take away from that?

All at once, he's becoming all too aware with the warmth of your hand in his. The small tingle he feels throughout his palm that he had done a good job at ignoring up until now. It's the reason he's wiggling his fingers from your grasp and shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

He's plopping down on the rock with a thud, shoulders shrugging. “I don't know. Sometimes when we talk, I feel like bringing you here. So I did.” He's trying to be cool and you're not too sure why. There's a code in his words that isn't at all hard to read. He wanted to bring you here, let you in on a piece of him and no matter how nonchalant he tried to act about it, that's what it was.

So you're lowering yourself to sit beside him. From his pocket, he's pulling out a pre-rolled blunt and tucking it between his lips. He's quick with lighting it, taking his time with inhaling. “I don't really go on dates like that, you know. I mean, I do... but I don't. When I take girls out, it's like a gratuity, you know? But, I like talking to you and I wanted to show you something cool too. So I brought you here,”

His free hand rests on the ground behind you, inadvertently pulling your body closer to his. “Do you like it?” There's a bit of hopefulness in his voice that's hard to miss.

You're smiling brightly up at him, nodding your head to rid him of any confusion. “I like it. It's really pretty. Thank you for showing it to me,” Just your smile was enough to have the flutter starting up in his chest, but the way you talked to him? He'd turn into a blubbering fool if he wasn't careful.

He extends his hand, wordlessly offering the smoke out to you. And you're assuming that he just wants you to hold it for a second, so you pluck it from his fingers. And wait. He's snorting out a laugh at the patient look on your face. “You gonna hit it or...?”

“Oh! Uhm... no?” He's quick with pulling it from your fingers at the rejection, no desire to waste anything. “Why not? Are you like a good girl or something?” He teases, words coming through a cloud of smoke.

You're letting out a scoff, eyes rolling at his words. “No. I'm an athlete. My body is my most important instrument. Which includes my lungs,” He's bursting out laughing at the snootiness hidden in your tone. A loud laugh contagious laugh that could probably be heard throughout the entire city.

“Well, excuse me,” He speaks through your dying laughter.

With his arm resting behind you, you're naturally leaning into his side. The calm of the night and having him so close has a warm feeling settling in your chest, so much so that it's hard to contain the smile that has spread onto your features. Sitting in comfortable silence and watching the city below and it doesn't feel weird.

Content with just being around him and that's something you've never felt before. Whether or not he was feeling it too was lost on you, his focus on moving the blunt to and from his lips, a cloud of smoke forming above your heads.

“You see that greenish building?” You're pointing a little ways ahead of you. He has to lean forward and squint to see what you're referring to but nods once he spots it. “That's my middle school,” Punctuating your words with a grin up at him.

His fingers move to flick his scraps into the window, his body moving closer to you now that his focus wasn't split. “What was Middle School Yn like?” His free hand fidgets with the pebbles on the other side of his body, the other resting over your shoulder.

“Middle School Yn?” You repeat with a laugh, head tilting to the side as you're brought back to what you were like in middle school. Nothing like how you've turned out. “She was... different?” You're laughing again, planning on leaving it at that.

But, he's got this expectant look on his face, waiting for you to go on. So you do. “I kept to myself mostly, didn't have many friends. Not nearly as confident as I am now. I read a lot and did my homework. That's it,” He doesn't seem shocked or even surprised by the fact that you weren't always this popular magazine cut-out creation of yourself.

He doesn't even bat an eye, simply nodding at your words. “So you were a little nerdy?” His words don't come out in the rude unconvinced way that you've heard before when showing your past yearbooks. It's more like he's trying to get an image of what you looked like back than despite anything else.

“You could say that,” He's nodding, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Cute. Middle School me would've had the biggest crush on you.” Hoseok speaks as if it's just another fact like his words don't have a flutter shooting through your chest.

And with how sure he was that you two would've hit it off in middle school, you can't help but become curious. “What were you like back then?” You try to picture what a younger version of him would look like. How he'd act. Probably still cool, unbothered by most things that would usually send kids into a rage.

Your imagination doesn't get too far before he's answering. “I was a bit of a hothead... always wanted to fight someone. I was sensitive and emotional, so I argued a lot with whoever. I had a ton of friends, though. But looking, they were probably just afraid of not being my friend.” He laughs so you offer up a small giggle.

Your hand had been mindlessly resting on his thigh before, fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of his jeans as he speaks. “So why do you think you'd have a crush on me?” From the way he described himself, it seemed like you two wouldn't even sit by each other – let alone be close enough that he'd develop a crush.

He's shrugging at your words, an action that you've quickly realized is his favorite. A way to give off nonchalance, but looking close enough it's not hard to detect the light blush that dusts over his cheeks. “You said you were quiet. I think I would've liked being around you. Listening to you talk... like now,” His arm drops from your shoulders to wrap around your waist, using his grip to pull you closer to him.

“Think if I met you then or now, I'd still be into the way you smile... or the pretty way you roll your eyes when you're trying to act annoyed. And yeah, just you.” His hand reaches for yours in his lap, loosely twisting your fingers with his. “Any version of me would like you,” It's so soft, you're not sure if that last part was meant for you to hear.

His eyes are focused out in front of you, not even slightly looking like someone that just confessed. So you ignore it, summing it up as a slip of the tongue. You don't comment, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from taking over your stomach.

All at once, you're being met with the undeniable urge to kiss him. Just to see what it feels like. Throw out the self-proclaimed challenge you set for yourself because Arya was probably wrong. You've spent the entire night with the guy, he cheered you on from the crowd, brought you to his spot, and now this... unconscious confession. The fact that he liked you was on his mind so much that he was saying it without even realizing it.

You found it extremely hard to think someone like that would have the wrap sheet he was given. Or, maybe he did in the past... but with you it was different. Why else would he take you here, invite you into his space and talk to you the way that he has if it wasn't anything different? Right?

Right.

So before you can talk yourself out of it, you're tilting your head to the side to face him. “It's pretty here, huh?” Voice much softer now, you've taken control of the fiddling of fingers. Twisting yours around him and occasionally brushing your nails against his skin. It's subtle enough to be taken lightly but just enough to leave his skin tingling.

He's quick to pick up on your change of demeanor, brows raising in slight surprise, but he doesn't say anything. In fact, he's following your lead, leaning his body in closer to yours. “Mhm. Quiet too, nobody really comes over here,” His fingers tug at the belt loops in your jeans, tongue pushing out to wet his lips.

“That's good,” Your breath brushes against his lips as you speak, eyes dropping to his lips. He doesn't say anything else, gently pulling his fingers from your grasp just so he can spread his palm on the side of your neck. And then his lips are crashing down onto yours, hand holding your head in place.

Hoseok kisses you slowly at first, mouth molding with yours. But it's not long before he's brushing his tongue over your lips, testing the waters before he's plunging in. Fingers pressed into his jeans, you try to keep your head from spinning as his tongue pushes against yours. He tastes earthy... but a little sweet. It's intoxicating.

With two hands planted firmly on your hips, he's easily lifting you onto his lap. The movement so fast it's forcing you to break the kiss, a squealed laugh breaking the kiss. Which he meets with a wide grin, reaching to push your hair from your face. Slowly, he drags the tips of his fingers over your jawline, until he's holding your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I really like your lips,” He says through a groan, leaning in to cover your mouth with his once more. Hands dropping to cover the curve of your ass, pushing your body further up on his lap so your hips collide. You can feel his half-hard cock pressed against your thigh and it takes everything in you not to grind your hips forward.

The feeling of his cool hands slipping underneath your sweater has a shiver running down your spine. Body reacting to the way his fingers climb up your skin, grazing over the underwire of your bra. His teeth tug at your lower lip and you feel the twitch of his cock hardening as his hands slide underneath.

Your slow with pulling back, not fully wanting to pull away – but knowing if you didn't stop now you wouldn't be able to convince yourself later on. It's cute, though, the way his lips chase yours as you put distance between the two of you. When he's not tasting the peach of your lip gloss, his eyes flutter open.

Two large hands resting over your breasts, cheeks matching the color of his eyes. “You don't want to?” He looks genuinely confused, like someone not wanting to sleep with him right away was some foreign concept. Still, he's pulling his hands from the inside of your shirt, resting them behind him.

“Not yet,” He nods, glossy lips spreading into a smile. “Okay,” He leans up to press a reassuring kiss to your nose before he's sliding you off of his lap. And then, without missing a beat he's saying. “I bet I can name more constellations than you,” Completely wiping away any possibility of an awkward moment rising.

Challenging you with a smirk on his face and the comfortable atmosphere you had been in before is quickly returning. “Yeah, okay.” He's stretched out on the ground so he can look at the sky properly and you're quick to lower yourself beside him.

And just like that, you're pointing out clusters of stars, laughing at the ridiculous names that you come up with. Your head pressed to his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. You don't even notice as the hours tick by.

— you’re just his type. so it’s no surprise when all of his time and effort goes into making you his. though, they’ve always said… you only want it because you can’t have it.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

#hoseok #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #bts smut #💔 sm au #hoseok fic #hoseok sm au #hoseok imagine #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts sm au #namjoon x oc #yoonmin

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negasonicimagines · 3 years ago

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Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

#negasonic teenage warhead #ellie phimister #x-men #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #x-men imagine #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #ellie phimister x reader #x-men x reader #wlw x reader #sapphic x reader #wlw imagine #sapphic imagine #lesbian x reader #lesbian imagine #songfic

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imjusttpeachy · 4 years ago

Text

the early bird gets the panini (c.h.)

well this is quite the change of pace isn’t it. lmao i figured u guys needed a break from the crying so here’s... whatever this is

thank u all new followers!! u jus made a big mistake💞🦋

u guys should search up “my very real collab with 50 cent” by corpse if you haven’t heard it yet, i ascended the first time i listened lmaoooo

playlist

the wombats - greek tragedy

aminé - heebiejeebies

free nationals - beauty and essex

the marías- let my baby stay

summary: Corpse interrupts the reader’s morning livestream after she left him alone in bed that morning. Fluff and fuckery ensues.

word count: 2, 326

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns, coarse language

>>>

“Okay, Tom Nook is the most bitch-ass motherfucker I’ve ever met. I could fold him like a panini with a slap I swear to god.”

Mornings were definitely one of your favourite times to stream. Of course, you loved staying up into the early hours of the morning only kept awake by the energy drinks running through your veins and the screaming of your friends over your headset, but nothing could beat the sweet simplicity of waking up with your watchers. It was always so calm, your anxiety levels at a low with the small audience building up slowly as more of them woke up. Reading those good morning messages saying that you helped to start their day off on a good foot— nothing would beat that.

The only downside to these scheduled morning streams was having to tear yourself away from the cozy warmth of your bed, especially if there was a certain someone blanketed over you silently persuading you to stay there forever. It was always a rare sight, bruised eyes sealed shut, long eyelashes kissing pale cheeks as small snores escaped from slightly parted lips. Glancing down at the messy black mop that rested on top of your chest, you sighed softly. You knew he’d only been asleep for a few hours, if that, thinking back to the night before where you crawled into bed alone after kissing him goodnight before leaving him to finish editing for his latest video. He worked too hard, but despite you reminding him this every single time he stayed up into the dark hours of the night to finish his work, he always never seemed to be satisfied. Most of the time you were able to coax him from the stuffy confines of his gaming office, bribing him with sweet kisses and promises of cuddles; when he was in the zone, though, nothing could steer his sore eyes away from the monitor. So with a sweet kiss goodnight, you’d make your way to the bedroom, falling asleep to the faint click-clacks of his keyboard.

It was funny how different you were in that aspect. You always loved mornings, the sun shining through the blinds always brought a smile to your face holding the promise of a bright day ahead. It felt good to never be in a rush, to enjoy the still air, and watch the world around you wake up as people settled into their daily routines. The day’s chaos always seemed to leak through into the dark of the night, but in the morning everything felt new and refreshed; the perfect new beginning to another chapter in the story of your life. Though, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of staying in bed tangled together with your favourite person every so often wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Okay, maybe it was almost every day.

But who could say no when those strong arms encased you so perfectly, holding you so close you couldn’t figure out where you ended and where he started? Who could say no to his warm skin pressed against your own, the weight of his body grounding you as you pulled yourself from the darkness of sleep? Who could say no to being able to study his face up close, running your fingertip ever so lightly along the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheekbones, watching his eyelids flutter as he stirred softly in his sleep? Who could say no to the pillow talk you shared once those pretty eyes opened, the deep grumble of his morning voice that prickled goosebumps over your skin as he muttered those 3 sweet little words?

Definitely not you.

Well, not often anyway.

Reluctantly pulling your gaze away from the sweet face resting on your chest, you glanced over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red numbers reading 9:37 AM that seemed to be glaring back at you pushed any thought of indulging in your morning pleasures straight from your mind. You’d need to be live in 20 minutes. Puffing another sigh from your lips you slowly worked your way out from underneath your personal weighted blanket, trying your best to maneuver him softly onto the pillows to not wake him. Of course, you’d never be that lucky. Hissing through your teeth as your feet hit the icy top of the hardwood floor, you whipped your head around as a warm hand encased your wrist in a loose grip. Beneath messy bed head that could barely be seen from underneath the comforter that you had pulled back on top of him, you see the glimpse of tired eyes clouded with confusion peering out from underneath.

“Angel?” The deep grumble muttered underneath his breath almost made you throw all your plans to the wind and crawl right back into the fluffy clouds you longed to once again get lost in. Huffing out a sigh you slowly turned around, pulling your hand from his grasp only to bury it in the dark locks buried among the pillows. You leaned down softly, pushing your hands through his hair to reveal soft pleading eyes staring back at you, doing nothing but making your heart ache for having to leave so soon. Trancing your thumb along his eyebrow to try and smooth the small furrow that had made its home between them, you sighed softly.

“It’s Thursday, gotta stream puppy.” You watched as a small flash of recognition passed across his bleary eyes, a puff escaping his lips from under the comforter as you watched his chest fall slightly. Pulling his head up from the comforter, you smiled as you felt chapped lips press a small kiss to the inside of your wrist in understanding. Allowing yourself a bit of fun you leaned down pressing your lips to his briefly, giggling softly as a whine escaped his mouth as you pulled away. “Promise I won’t be long, I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“Too late for that.”

>>>

Smiling as you glanced up at your monitor that held your live chat, you watched as your viewers lost it with your threat to an animated shopkeeper. Times like this are what remind you of how grateful you are to your subscribers, they were practically family at this point and you felt you couldn’t be luckier to have such genuine, warm-hearted people that wanted to watch; even when you were cussing out characters that did nothing to you. You were laughing as you read some of the chat replies out loud when you saw your phone light up with a text from where it was sitting on your desk. Excusing yourself for a moment from the stream you grabbed your phone seeing a message from Corpse.

Corpsie💞💞: did you order coffee? someone knocked on the door and there’s a paper bag on the step

Cursing to yourself quietly for forgetting, you answered him quickly saying that you just needed to cut to a break on stream and you’d be out in a minute to grab it. He was wary of even opening the front door these days, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. The last time you had driven out to pick up whatever was sent into his P.O. Box, there were people waiting outside the building. When you went inside to grab everything, you asked the teller what exactly they were waiting for, to which he told you that they were hoping to catch a glimpse of this faceless internet star as this is where he’d go to get his mail. You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster to your car— trying your best to not grab their attention though your body was shaking with adrenaline, knowing they might’ve seen him while he was waiting there for you. Practically throwing open the driver's door, you tossed everything haphazardly into the back seat, telling Corpse to pull up his hood and mask as you started the car and peeled out of there. That was the last time he left the house.

You sighed, dropping your phone back on your desk as well as the switch that had been sitting in your lap, beginning to explain that you needed a quick break to get your coffee and starting to click through the settings to set up your break screen when you saw your phone light up again.

Corpsie💞💞: nah don’t worry i got it

You barely had time to sit back in your chair as you stared at your phone in disbelief before there was a soft knocking on your office door.

“Just kidding guys, apparently we have a kind guest who’s bringing it to me instead.”

Corpse hearing your voice from behind the door, it swung open to reveal your mop-headed lover sporting his cute plaid pyjama pants and yesterday’s hoodie as he held your coffees and bag in his hand. You grinned to yourself, moving out of the frame of the webcam as you reached out to grab everything, placing it on your desk before turning back to him with a wide smile. Reaching back for his hand, you pulled it down toward you, his body following as your other hand reached up to bury itself in his bedhead. You leaned forward and pressed a small peck onto his lips, mumbling a soft thank you against them as you kissed him once more. While this may have looked like the most simple gesture you knew how difficult it must have been for him, almost wanting to cry at how sweet he was to go to those lengths to do something a little special for you. As you pulled away, you smiled as his face mirrored yours, those soft rosy lips pulled into the sweetest grin you’d ever seen. Resting his forehead against yours, he mumbled back a small “anything for you princess,” the deep rumble of his morning voice sending a chill up your spine as you leaned forward again to steal another sweet kiss. Finally pulling away from you he stood up to his full height, a yawn escaping his mouth; though as he looked back toward the door you could sense his hesitation and grinned widely up at him.

“Do you wanna sit with me for a bit? I can just turn off the camera.” Giggling softly, you watched his head practically whip back toward you nodding a yes as he squeezed your hand, still intertwined with his. Reluctantly pulling it from his grasp, you pulled yourself back toward your monitors as you began to click through your stream settings.

“Well, your favourite guest has decided to grace us with his presence for a little so I’m gonna have to turn off face-cam, but I don’t think you guys will have a problem with that.” You laughed out, watching as your chat began to surge with messages about him. Making sure there was no way you could accidentally turn on the webcam again, you gestured him over to you starting to stand from your chair to grab the other one sitting in the corner of the office when a hand grasped yours, a strong tug pulling you completely off it with; a small yelp escaped your lips as you fell clumsily into your boyfriend's chest. You could hear his laugh from above you as he maneuvered you around in his arms before falling back onto your chair and pulling you into his lap, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck where you could feel that smug grin that was surely painted on his face. With his arms wrapped around you completely, holding you securely to his chest you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Looking up at the chat a laugh was pulled from your lips as your watchers conspired against you, message after message accusing you of doing something unspeakable behind the camera as being the reason you turned it off.

“Guys, literally nothing is happening.” You laughed out, watching as the chat passed so fast you couldn’t even read a full sentence. “Corpse just decided he wanted to share a chair instead of getting his own.”

“Yeah, my bad.” With no trace of any remorse in his monotone answer, another laugh escaped from your lips. Leaning forward to grab your switch and actually start playing again, you settled back into Corpse’s lap knowing this is exactly where you wanted to be. You were only a few minutes back into the game, Corpse and you occasionally reading out some live chat comments excited about his surprise appearance as viewers slowly climbed— his own watchers joining to watch the stream, when he inevitably started to fuck with you. A chill snaked up your spine as you began to feel small kisses trailing up your neck, you should’ve known this was one of the reasons he wanted to have you in his lap— it was easier to get your attention this way. You could feel that smug little smile drift back onto his face as he heard your voice start to shake slightly; at those moments he’d pull away and start replying to messages before turning back and starting all over again. It was the fourth time he began to press those soft lips to the base of your throat when you shrugged him off and shoved the breakfast sandwich you were snacking on into his face.

“Okay, if you want to share a chair you’re gonna have to behave.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry baby, sorry.” Corpse laughed out, voice muffled from behind the sandwich; taking a bite of it and placing it back in front of you, his chest still shaking with laughter. Deciding to hook his chin over your shoulder instead, he went back to watching the live chat, chatting and answering questions— that is before he came across a certain comment that had him furrowing his brows in confusion.

“What’s this about you folding Tom Nook like a panini?”

>>>

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband x y/n

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spacedikut · 4 years ago

Text

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she��s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

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teacupcollector · 3 years ago

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The Undead Kind of Love: Part 1

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When Y/N’s art project lands her in Romania she is met with very peculiar circumstances. Such as a weird old man speaking mythical nonsense, murders of both people and animals, an oncoming threat to her life, as well as her mysterious yet very hot next door neighbor with a weird obsession with beetroot juice.

You came to the Romanian capital for your college class. Your major was in Art History and you found that throughout your class you enjoyed different types of Folk Art and you enjoyed Romanian Folk Art the most. So you decided to sign a slip to study abroad to a country of your choosing and so you chose Romania. You were tasked to study the art and make your own as well as write an essay on the culture you encountered on your trip. So here you are, in Bucharest sitting at a small park bench, food in hand which had a beautiful view of ‘The Arch of Triumph’ You had your small notepad that you use to take notes on what you see for your essay but as of right now you are doodling with the infamous arch way as the sole subject. As you finished your food you begin to pack up and put your pencil and notebook away then stand up. Your next stop was the “Dimitrie Gusti National Village Museum” It is about a seven minute walk from where you are now so you begin your journey.

With your backpack over your shoulder you begin your seven minute trek when something caught your ear. It was coming from ahead of you as you make your way to the entrance of the museum. “Pleacă de aici (Go away!)” A man cried. He seemed out of his mind! He was yelling and touching patrons in an effort to diverge them away from somewhere. “trebuie să pleci acum (You must leave now!)” You weren’t sure of what to do so you just stood there staring. That was your first mistake. He immediately made eye contact with you and charged in your direction. He was spitting nonsense and you couldn’t understand what he was saying. “Părăsi! Părăsi! (Leave! Leave!)” You understand that word so as you go through your imaginary index cards you have for the Romanian language you ask “De ce? (Why?)” The man seemed confused at what you were asking. “Mort! (Dead!)” You look at him even more confused and he sighs angrily “Vampire! Here Vampire!” You look shocked. You knew this man was crazy but not this crazy! He begins to grab on to your arm in a firm grip when he is suddenly ripped off of you. “Destul! (Enough!)” You see a pair of what looked like officers pulling the man away from you. “Atenție! ( Be careful!)” The man cries. “nu ieși noaptea! (Don’t go out at night!)” The police officers are taking him away in the direction of the main road. “Morții merg pe timp de noapte (The dead walk at night!) That was the last words you heard until he was out of ear shot. A wave of strangeness incased your entire body. You felt uncomfortable so you decided to leave. ‘I’ll come here some other time...’ You think to yourself as you find yourself walking back toward the main road and away from the museum and the woods that surrounded it.

Your walk home was unnerving. You wouldn’t say you were a paranoid person or even a believer in the paranormal but the man did strike a fear in you. You use to love vampires when you were a kid. You dressed up as one for three years straight for Halloween. You went through that weird Twilight phase of putting dots of sharpie on your neck and drinking red Kool-Aid in middle school. To say you weren’t a vampire fan would be a lie but that man seemed to know more. I mean you are in Romania so it is to be expected? You sigh as you get closer and closer to your apartment complex. Your backpack seems to be getting heavier with each step you took up the stairs. You enter an outdoor hallway that is connected to the stairs you just went up and look back to the world behind you. As the chill of the Autumn air sets in and you shiver. You turn to your door and take out your keys that were provided for you by the school.

As you jiggle the lock you hear a door open next to you. You look to your left and see a man step out. He is wearing a brownish leather jacket and a red shirt underneath. He has a cap on top of his head as his umber brown hair surrounds his face. His side profile was a chefs kiss. He had a well defined jawline accompanied with just the right amount of facial hair from what you could see his face stood stern and unmoving until they landed on you. He had equally stern baby blue eyes as he stared into you (E/C) ones. His eyes seem to have a storm behind them. He had an intimidating look to him and the air around him was intense. You felt like you couldn’t breath. His eyes were like a black hole and they were sucking you in but you weren’t sure if you wanted to escape. That brief moment felt like a life time as you are swallowed by those broken eyes. He just looks at you and walks away.

When you got inside you decided to do a little research. Your roommate has yet to return so you decided to use their computer. You go to the local online news paper and begin to look at some articles. You go to the settings in the corner of the screen and hit the translate button. As the site reloads you begin to read. Multiple headlines flash across the screen as you scroll until a specific one catches your eye. “Local Farmer Finds Cattle Slaughtered” You scroll down to see pictures of said cattle. They are strangely skinny and their eyes are sunken in, there is a chunk of meat missing on a few parts of its body -mainly around the neck area- Scrolling down more you see the museum you were suppose to go to. There was a picture of the man you encountered holding onto somebody. Looking closely you can see that it is you! You didn’t realize that you were being photographed. Luckily it was of the back of your head so no one saw your face, but it would be a cool story to tell to your friend later. As you continue to stare at the man you decide to do even more digging. You decide to look up vampires and the influence they have in this culture. What you found was interesting but you weren’t sure if it was accurate. Then again how can something mythical be accurate? You decided to write down the name of a library that is close to your apartment complex and head there tomorrow. You decide to exit and shut off the computer putting it back on the coffee table where it belongs. You get up and decide to see what you have in the fridge. Turns out there was a whole lot of nothing. ‘I really need to go to the market tomorrow...’ You think to yourself as you reach for your phone looking at different take out places. You choose the type of food you wish to eat and made sure to write down the pronunciation of each items on the menu so you can be sure to say it correctly to the best of your abilities. By the time you are done ordering your roommate walks in and gives you a small wave. You wave back to them before continuing to wait for your food. You look out the sliding door of your balcony to see the sky is pitch black. You feel a shiver go up your spine and make your way to the sliding door and shutting the blinds. You take a few steps back and calm your breathing. You don’t know why you feel so worked up over nothing but you guess that your paranoia is getting the best of you. You walk to your roommates room and knock on the door. You hear a quiet ‘come in’ so you open the door. “Hey I just wanted to let you know that I got us some food and it will be here soon.” They smile and nod and you exit the room shutting it behind you. You don’t know how long it has been but you started dozing off on the couch when you heard a knock on the door. You quickly get your wallet and approach the door opening it. You expected your food to be here. What you didn’t expect is the person holding your food in their hands. “Oh it’s you!” You exclaim making the man you saw earlier today flinch. You blush red in embarrassment. “Sorry Uh-” You begin to try and speak some Romanian but the man cuts you off. “Your food got delivered to my place...” You look even more shocked. “Oh right. I’m so sorry!” You pop your head around the corner of the door way looking for the delivery person. “Where did they go?” You ask looking up at him. “They left...” He murmurs. “They wouldn’t have left without payment... Did you pay for my food?” You ask suddenly feeling guilty. He nods. “Why don’t you come i-” “No it’s fine.” He says holding out the bag of food to you. You look between him and the food. As you look closely you can see his hand. His hands look tough, fingernails are well kept with veins protruding and leading up his arm, but the thing that caught your eye the most was how his fingertips and some of his hand was stained red. “Is that your blood!? Are you okay? Did you hurt you hand?” You ask taking the food in which he takes his hand and wipes it on his jeans even though there is no liquid on it. What ever it was you hoped it wasn’t blood because it must have been there for a while to have stained it. “No I didn’t hurt my hand. I spilled some beet root juice.” He says quietly. “Oh... Okay...” You say slightly weirded out. “Well good night.” He says before walking away. You are stood there for a moment before you call out “Good night! How do I-” You hear the sound of his apartment door slamming shut. You were debating on going over there to say something but your thoughts were interrupted by your roommate calling out to you. “Hey what are you doing with the door wide open? Is the food here?” She asks and you sigh “Yeah I’m coming in.” You say as you step back into the apartment and shut the door. A/N: I used Google Translate for the Romanian So I’m sorry if it is off. A/N: This story is for a writing challenge hosted by @lokithealligator A/N: The bolded words is number 46 in a prompt list made by @pitaparka -Please check both of them out they are amazing!

#eventual fluff #eventual angst #eventual bucky x reader #vampire bucky barnes #vampire bucky x reader #college reader #strange bucky #strangers to lovers #slow burn #writing challenge #halloween #halloween writing challenge

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beatleszeppelin · 3 years ago

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You're A … Inexperienced Ch. 4

Chapter Summary: You spend every waking hour of the next day hoping for Daryl back, you don't know if you'll be mad, sad, scared or happy when he returns. But when you are notified of his return, and you find out he's hurt, things go a bit further, or should I say a base further?

Category: Friends to Lovers, Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut, swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter 4: I trust you.

“Carol,” You yelled getting her attention.

She smiled back, a sympathetic look, but endearing and all knowing. “I heard what happened last night with you two.”

“Did he tell you?” The inquiry slipped immediately from your lips.

“On his way out he did,” the corners of her mouth pulled back into a smile, and she patted your shoulder.

“Out?”

“Went on a run, early this morning. Daryl stopped and talked to Carl and I on his way out the gates.”

“What did he say happened,” You begged, wanting to know the true reason he’s left you high and dry last night.

“Not very much, most was implied.” She held her arm out, guiding you to a near by table. You both sat together, and pried on the other’s interactions with the elusive conversationalist.

From what you gathered, he left this morning in a hurry, and he left mad. Mad at himself for fucking it up with you, whatever he thought it was. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing in detail, but he didn’t take much water and nearly no food. He should be back today, based on Carol and Carl’s sleuthing.

But the day went on, and lunch and dinner came and went, and he didn’t make an appearance through the gates. You took the day off from whatever tasks you were supposed to do at the farm, with the animals, and crops, to instead take over a full day of gate work. You didn’t read a book, or draw stupid little pictures in the margins of other peoples papers that were left. You looked out, on guard, watching the shadows change on the road ahead.

Sometime after the shadows left, and the ground turned fully dark, your eyes fell heavy from the lack of sleep you had been allowed the night before. So you turned in. Sleep didn’t come easily, thinking of Daryl out there, mad at himself. He could have run away, he could have left for good. He could be out there hurt, or worse. The thoughts wracked your head, until you woke up the next morning, you don’t remember falling asleep, but you must have sometime early this morning.

You got up and dressed with no effort, for maximum efficiency. The first place you hit was the gate, it was a shift change, so you spoke with Carol on her way in.

“Do you know anything, has he come back yet?”

“You haven’t seen him yet?” she asked as if his whereabouts were seemingly obvious.

“No, I didn’t even know he was back, where is he?” You begged.

“He showed up at the gates late last night. He’s in the infirmary, he got hurt on his run yesterday,” She said, without too much concern, but it didn’t stop you from walking to him, but she did add, “he’s fine, by the way,” while you were still in ear shot.

You walked to him, but by the time you noticed you were running. You couldn’t tell what you were feeling as you braced yourself to see Daryl in whatever state he may be in. You were mad at him for leaving, but happy about his return. Sad that he felt the need to leave in the first place, and scared about his injuries.

You opened the door to the infirmary, walked into the rows of cells and stark white bed sheets that have so regularly been changed. Your quick lope took you to Daryl’s cell, the one that you heard Hershel’s voice and quite grumbles coming from. His monotonous pained breathing served as a compass, guiding you directly to him, without any consideration to which direction your feet were moving.

You stood on the other side of the bars, seeing into his room much like he must have seen into yours just a few nights ago. Hershel was tending to bandages wrapped around Daryl’s abdomen. There was no blood, though. His bare chest was wrapped up, around his ribcage and over his shoulder. He lay on his side, another wrap encasing his knee, was propped up with a throw pillow someone must have retrieved on a run.

As he lay there looking up to you, you stand in the doorway, sorting through the files in your head of possible things you could say to him.

“Welp, I’ll be back to see you later, and remember to take it easy on your body. No strenuous activity.” Hershel picked up and saw himself out, patting you on the back as he left.

Seconds long pause lingered over the heads of both of you, but was broken when you simply asked, “What the fuck?”

“‘m sorry,” he tucked his chin down to his chest.

“I really don’t care if you’re sorry right now, I just want to know what you did, and maybe why?” You said genuinely.

“Didn’t mean to hurt you, an’ when I did, just thought I should leave, always better out there.” He mumbled.

“What do you mean hurt me? You thought you hurt me. Look at you, laying here all wrapped up,” You couldn’t fathom him leaving because he thought he did something wrong, when what hurt you most was the fact that he had left in the first place.

“I knew what you’d wanted, but it didn’t happen, an’ I thought you’d be mad about it.”

“No, I wasn’t mad about whatever happened while you were in my cell, I was mad about everything that happened after. I didn’t want you to leave.” You paused for a breath, “I thought you left because of something I did, and it turns out you did. And what did you mean what I wanted?”

“Well,” He raised his chin, and his eyes kept darting in between your and the floor. “You wanted to fix me, but you can’t change the unchangeable.”

You felt disheartened, his words hurt, not because what he was saying was with mal intent, but because this is what he genuinely thought. He thought that you wanted to sleep with him to fix him, to some how change this broken man that sit before you, but he couldn’t be more wrong. He wasn’t broken, not to you, not to anyone here but himself. “I don’t want you to change; I just don’t want you to have only bad memories.”

“What if we try again, an I still don’t like it?” He said, voice breaking.

“We only try when, or if you want to. I’m always down.” You said, finally walking into the cell, and siting on the stool Hershel was on before.

“And what if I never want to…”

You cut him off, “have sex?”

He raised his head, and then nodded slowly.

“Then, we’ll never have sex, and I will be happy being with you, because you are my friend, and I love you.”

He reached out and grabbed your hand from you lap. And he simply held on to it.

“I do have one more thing to ask of you,” he looked, “how did you get hurt?” His face turned red again, he cleared his throat. “Was out, on my bike. Just riding. I was mad, at myself, at the world, so I was going fast, yeah?” You nodded. “I saw a walker, I tried to stop, but I’s on a patch of sand, and I slid, and fell off.”

You laughed and shook your head, then you pulled your hand out of his for a second, and he subconsciously reached out for it again feeling the emptiness. You grabbed the blanket from his bed, and draped it over his his body, stopping just before the curve his waist. You were scared to touch his bandages, not knowing how much pain he was in. You sat back down, and took his hand in yours, and his shoulders visibly dropped at the connection. “So what did Hershel say?”

He brushed his hair down into his face with one hand, you quickly undid this gesture by pushing all of his hair back behind his ears. “He said I’ve got a dislocated knee, from where the bike fell on me, and I slipped a rib, probably from sliding.” You smiled at him, sympathetically, causing him to bashfully add, “t’s nothin’ bad though.”

Days later, maybe a week, when Daryl could walk (with assistance), you took him out on a makeshift date. You planned where you would take him, a field, outside the walls, with a pond right next to it.

You drove his bike, he sat behind you holding on to your waist, one leg bent, with his foot flat on the pegs, the other straight out, as to not bend his hurt knee. You rode around for a while, you thought he needed it, before circling back to where you wanted to take him. “This is it,” you said as you arrived to a flat spot of land, encompassed by weeds that danced in the wind.

“What’re we to be doing here,” he asked hobbling off of the bike, he’s normally so comfortable on.

You pulled a blanket and some bread and jam out of the saddle bags on the bike, that he was still leaning on, as a crutch. You laid it down. And set the food on top. Then you walked back about ten feet to where Daryl leaned, and slowly eased his arm over your shoulder, seeing as to not hurt his ribs. Then you helped him walk over to where you planned to spend the day with him. You dropped his arm, and it hit his side with a wince.

He held his side, and not so gracefully slid his leg out from him, so it wouldn’t catch any weight on his way to the ground.

“What does it feel like?” You gestured to his leg once he had hit the earth.

He shrugged, “Dunno, like it’s tight when bent, an’ hurts anytime ya put weight on it. Can’t use crutches neither, cause those’d hit ma ribs.”

“You really fucked yourself up didn’t you?”

Breathily, he laughed.

You ate, breaking bread with your hands and passing the jam jar between you. The pond

was enchanting, just as the lake that you bathed in before was. This was safe, though. It was close to the fence, and you each had weapons at the ready.

“Been thinkin’,” Daryl said, with a mouth full of bread.

“Yeah, what about?” he caught your attention with his tone.

“Said, we could try again, right?”

“Right.” you replied, instantly knowing what he was talking about.

“What if, I know… What if the part that I don’t want ta… ‘s there anythin’ else?” He said chewing on his lip to mumble through the words.

“What?” You said scrunching your nose up.

“The whole putin’ yer,” he mumbled so you didn’t catch all of the words, “jus doesn’t feel right.”

“So you’re talking about trying stuff up until the second or third base, not going all the way?” You asked trying to understand.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

You scooted over to him on the blanket, and held your hand up to cup his face. Once you did, and he eased into the touch, you ran your thumb over his cheek. Your fingers were spread, to make room for his ear, under his hair. You looked at his eyes, and he looked everywhere but yours. You leaned in, stoping for a second to whisper, “First base,” and then went in for a soft kiss. It wasn’t quick, but it didn’t last long before he bit your lip, the way he always does his own. Pulling back a little you said “Check.”

You unbuttoned your shirt, but left it on, billowing open in the light breeze. You let him have his fun, as you watched him, poke and prod you in likeness to a child studying a bug. He grew more and more comfortable with the actions, as he encompassed your body with his hands like a sightless person would use a walking stick.

As his hand fell down over your shoulder, your bra strap slipped down, causing him to freeze and wait for your cue. You just unhooked it, and slid the other strap down to match. He withdrew his hands, and started chewing on his thumb. “Would you like me to take it off, I mean it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He nodded, thumb still in place.

You slipped it off through your shirt sleeve, and watched him take his vest off, and lay it down on the ground. You then helped him pull his shirt off over his head, which you and Carol have been taking turns helping him do, since his accident.

“I would say second base has been accomplished, what about you?”

He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and mumbled an “mmm hmm.”

“Wanna try third or shall we wait for another day?”

“What exactly is third?” He asked.

“Hand stuff.” You said blatantly, awaiting his reaction.

He thought for a second, nodded, and said, “trust you.”

His words made your stomach bubble, it was excitement and it made you feel like you were about to throw up. You pushed those feelings down, and hooked your fingers in his belt, pulling him in for a kiss. This time, unlike previously, you didn’t lead it. His lips met yours and neither of you moved without the other.

You did however take the lead when you reached down and rested your hand on his leg. You slowly moved your hand up, and his breath hitched. “Are you okay, does something hurt?” you paused.

“Nah, just needed a sec, good now, though.”

Through his pants, you felt that he needed no time to get ready, so you got straight to work. You undid his button on his pants, unzipping as well. He halted all movement; focusing on breathing and staring at your hand slowly working itself up and down. He shut his eyes tight, and moved your hand.

“What, was that too much.” You asked, needing him to tell you what he wasn’t liking.

“It’s a lot, if you touch me ‘gain, I’m gonna…” his face was red and he grabbed his dick tightly.

“Open your eyes,” you coaxed.

“Can’t need to concentrate.” “If you need to, just do it. I’ll take it as a compliment.” You said moving his hand away. “May I?” You asked.

“I trust you.” He said barely above a whisper.

You finished him off in a matter of seconds, his pants were down mid-thigh, and you pulled his rag out to clean him up. He pressed his index and ring finger to the bridge of his nose, acting as a shield from his bright red face; he radiated chagrin.

As his heart pounded, and his breathing was still accelerated, he leaned on you, and whispered “I trust you, and I love you.”

And you could have spent the day there in that position, with him breathing heavily into your neck. And his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist. And although you got home later that day, and went to your separate sleeping quarters, that doesn’t mean this was the last time, it was only his first.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #awkward daryl #twd #twd fanfic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #fanfictions #fanfics #this chapter was fun #first time for him #first time for me writing some thing like this #just a virgin girl writing about a virgin boy

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guqin-and-flute · 4 years ago

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[You know how there’s a set of fics I promised to work on first? Apparently that was a lie! 😘 This is just epilogue, Post-Reconciliation fluff with teenage Jingyi--he’s probably 15-16 CW: Moderate descriptions of dead bodies and injuries in reference to a game they’re playing]

[3zun Raise Jingyi AU] [Main Fic][Ao3 Link]

“Are you you cold?”

“Oh yeah, very.”

“Are you animated?”

“No.”

“Do I know you?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm.” Yellow-Father flipped the page of the book he was examining, eyes still on his work. “Are there obvious wounds?”

“Yup, my organs are all chewed up, throat torn out, and...let’s say my nose is gone.” Jingyi thumped his chin into his hands, sticking his legs straight out under the low table in the middle of Yellow-Father’s office, idly waggling his feet.

Next to him at the table, Gray-Father looked like he was falling asleep, his cheek all smushed against his propped up fist, eyes mostly closed, but he still grunted, “Shape of the teeth marks?”

Jingyi squinted into space and wrinkled his nose, considering. “Oblong?”

Yellow-Father twitched a half smirk without looking up from what he was signing. “Oblong teeth?”

“No, oblong...jaw shape or whatever,” Jingyi waved his hand dismissively, wiping away his previous words before drawing a long, thin U-shape in the air with his index finger.

Gray-Father cracked one eye open to take in the sketch, then closed it again. “Not a fierce corpse, then.”

With an air of exaggerated mystery, Jingyi shrugged, then sprawled backward on the floor so he took up the rest of the walkway in front of the door. “Whoooo’s to say? Is that your guess?”

“Boy, I said it wasn’t a fierce corpse, why would that be my guess?”

“Well, you’re trying to fish for unauthorized information, Chifeng-zun, you gotta play by the rules,” Jingyi shot back sternly, jabbing a serious and admonishing finger in his direction.

Though his eyes were closed, it was very clear that Gray-Father rolled them.

Yellow-Father heaved a sigh and drummed his fingers idly on his desk, gaze roving over the piles of paper as he sucked on his teeth in thought--though, Jingyi had to admit, probably not just about their game. Yellow-Father seemed to operate on several levels at once at all times. “Are there deep puncture marks?”

“Uhhh...sort of?”

Finally, Yellow-Father looked up to shoot him an amused glance over his desk edge. “’Sort of?’ That’s hardly fair or specific.” Rising, he gathered a stack of scrolls and came around his desk, stepping easily over Jingyi’s supine form before rapping smartly on the door with his knuckles.

“Like...teeth marks are technically puncture marks.”

After a moment, the door slid open and a harried looking Jin courier took the pile without a word and disappeared down the hall. Yellow-Father closed the door and turned back. “Yes, I suppose. I’m asking specifically about fangs.”

Lolling his head over, Jingyi watched as he stepped back over him without even looking, robe hem brushing over his belly. He barely fought the sudden urge to grab his ankles as he might have when he was younger. He managed not to--but it was definitely a close thing. “It’s not a snake.”

“What?” Gray-Father demanded, sounding offended.

Jingyi lolled his head back to see his eyes open, glaring at him in mock reproach. “You’ll tell him it’s not a snake but you can’t confirm it’s not a fierce corpse without threatening to take away my guess? How is that playing by the rules?”

“Aha,” Jingyi raised his finger straight into the air again as he proclaimed, “But it is.” Then, he pointed back down at himself. “Because I make the rules.”

Gray-Father gave a derisive huff through his nose, but smiled. “Yeah, that was cute when you were 5. Not so much anymore.”

“Um, whatever, I’m adorable. Dieeee, are you done yet? I’m bored. When is Blue-die done with his meeting? I wanna gooo.”

“Patience, Jingyi, I need to clean up. And he’s coming.” Yellow-Father rustled about on his desk, neatly packing everything away into drawers and piles that Jingyi thought were a little excessive--like, why did it need to be that clean? “Where did we find you, again?”

With an exaggerated scoff, Jingyi shook his head slowly, feeling the hard floor beginning to dig into the knob at the back of his skull. He’d have to sit up soon. “Wooow, you find a dead body and you don’t even care enough to remember your surroundings. This must be just any other day to you.”

“In the woods, he said,” Gray-Father betrayed him easily, so Jingyi raised his head to shoot him a glare, but his eyes were closed again. Wriggling closer, he punched the side of his rock of a thigh, earning him a chuckle and Gray-Father leaning down to flip the ends of his fanned out hair over his face.

“Woods, thin, oblong jaws, deep tooth marks, throat torn out, organs and nose gone--or at least chewed on,” Yellow-Father ticked off precisely down an imaginary list as he turned from shelving to continue puttering around. “I’m guessing; wolves.”

Heaving himself upright, Jingyi crashed his hands together just as the gold, white, and blue painted door slid open once again and he bellowed. “GUAAAUAUAUANG!”

Framed in the doorway, Blue-Father stopped short and blinked at the sudden noise but smiled in amusement. “’Guaaaung?’” When Jingyi thrust out his hands demandingly, he stepped in and obligingly gave him custody of one of his arms. “Hello.”

“Almost done, Er-ge,” floated Yellow-Father’s voice from the closet.

“Clearly, it’s a gong noise.” Jingyi used his arm to haul himself to his feet--Blue-Father didn’t even sway. “They won; I was murdered by wolves.”

At this pronouncement, his blue father cocked his head down at him, smile turning quizzical as Jingyi dusted off the seat of his robes. “...Ah?”

Gray-Father blew out a breath and shook himself awake, unfolding slowly from the table. “We were playing Dead Body while we waited for you and A-Yao to be done,” he explained, then gave a hugely expansive stretch, scrunching his face up. “I was thinking it was wolves, but I was waiting for the usual twist.”

Yellow-Father emerged from the closet with a smug smile and murmured, “Mmm, of course you were,” to which Gray-Father leaned over the desk and swatted at his butt--he easily dodged.

“The twist was that there was no twist, this time,” Jingyi said sagely, hands on his hips. “Are we good to go? Finally?”

“I...yes.” Blue-Father still had on that ‘I still don’t know what’s going on here’ smile as Yellow-Father closed the shutters against the streaming sun and joined them. “How does one play Dead Body, exactly?” he asked curiously as he leaned down to let Yellow-Father kiss his cheek hello just before they made their way out into the hall.

Pretending to hold back barf was something Jingyi did less because he cared about them kissing and more because it was his job as annoying teenage son to do things like that. In any case, he was rewarded by Gray-Father wrapping him in a casual headlock, then ignoring him when he flailed to escape as Yellow-Father locked up his office. “You mean you’ve never played Dead Body with him?”

“Mm, not that I recall--and I feel like I would remember something like that.”

From his chaotic and squished vantage point, he saw Yellow-Father look down at him--all captured and partially strangled and sputtering under Gray-Father’s arm. He rolled his eyes, and fondly scolded, “Let him breathe, Da-ge.”

Easily, Gray-Father complied. Wonderful, blessed air flooded back into Jingyi’s lungs--which he immediately used for retaliation by leaping onto Gray-Father’s back like a monster spider and wrapping him in a headlock of his own. Yellow-Father winced and hissed, “Mind Baxia, Fufu, for gods’ sake--”

“Dead Body isn’t a Lan game,” Jingyi panted dismissively, tightening his grip and bracing himself when Gray-Father planted his feet to take stock of the situation.

His other 2 fathers continued to walk on, out of range of Such Antics. It was a good thing, too, because in a whirl of walls and ceiling, Gray-Father managed to very neatly flip him over his shoulder onto the ground. With a smack, all the breath stuck in his lungs for a few agonizing moments while his horrible, rotten Gray-Father grinned down at him and laughed, “You little ass. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Vengeance,” Jingyi wheezed back several seconds later when he could breathe again again. The ring in his ears hadn’t completely left, yet.

“--and then you have to diagnose what killed him. It was very popular back when he was around 7 years old,” Yellow-Father was explaining to Blue-Father ahead of them, ignoring the intense drama of betrayal and revenge happening just up the hall. “Though, what on earth makes it not a ‘Lan game’ is beyond me.”

Staggering to his feet with the grudgingly accepted hand of his gray father, Jingyi caught up to them 2 of them. “Right, like shu-gong would want me lying around shouting about my limbs being torn off. He doesn’t even like me yelling about normal things; I would get so many lines.” He flopped down onto his yellow Father’s shoulders and leaned as they walked, even though he was just a little taller, now (and oooh, didn’t Yellow-Father hate it).

Automatically, his father reached up and pet his head, even as he said, “You’re crushing me, Fufu.”

Transferring over to Blue-Father, he hung from his shoulders when he patiently slowed to allow him to do so. “You find a body,” Jingyi intoned, dramatically. “It’s Lianfang-zun.” He spread his other hand wide as if painting the scene. “He’s folded up like a letter in the halls of Koi Tower! Cause of death?”

“A ridiculous son,” Gray-Father chuckled from behind them, and Jingyi twisted to kick up a foot and stuck out his tongue.

“Wrong.”

“Usually, there was a lot more posing, as a child,” Yellow-Father informed Blue-Father in a heavy tone over Jingyi’s head. “And props. It was a whole ordeal. I’m forever grateful it’s now entirely theoretical.”

“Ahh, I see,” Blue-Father shook his head and put a steadying arm around his shoulder as Jingyi hopped along on one foot, waggling his other one behind him as bait for Gray-Father to take amused, cursory swipes at. “Is there a reason I never got to play Dead Body?”

With exaggerated patience, Jingyi put both feet on the ground and reached up to pat his blue father’s cheek, smiling sympathetically. “Die, whenever I wanted to play war, you always asked if there was a peaceful solution--and I just wanted to stab people.”

All 3 fathers burst out laughing as they rounded the corner of the hallway, the sun shining warmly over their sides from the garden windows. “Oh, so you decided that I just didn’t have the stomach for it, is that it?” Blue-Father asked with a grin.

Jingyi heaved himself off, spinning around to walk backward in front of all of them. “I mean, sort of? I think maybe I figured it would make you too sad to imagine me dead?”

At this, Gray-Father’s eyebrows shot up with a sharp, incredulous laugh and Yellow-Father reared his head back in offended bafflement, demanding, “Oh, and for some reason we wouldn’t be sad to imagine you dead?!”

Shrugging aggressively, Jingyi held up his hands in defense. “I dunno! He seemed like he would handle it worse! I was 7, what do you want from me? It doesn’t have to make sense, I was an idiot!”

“Oh, you were not an idiot,” Blue-Father protested, tilting his head and crinkling him a smile. “You were wonderful.”

“You were 7,” Yellow-Father agreed with Jingyi’s first statement, darkly. Apparently, he was still highly offended, because he muttered, “’Handle it worse’...” under his breath before saying, “You’re about to run into a vase, Jingyi, turn around.”

Instead of obeying, Jingyi just veered away from the obstacle and continued to shrug at him when he sighed and looked to his blue father for help. Before it could come, Gray-Father nudged Blue-Father with his shoulder, teasing, “Congratulations on being the only one to actually care about our son, apparently.”

“Holy hell, fine, if it’s going to be A Thing, we’ll all play and mourn my death together. Happy?” As he rolled his eyes, Jingyi nearly ran into the wall as the last corridor before the outside door ended, but Yellow-Father caught his sleeve and steered him right with feigned annoyance in his pursed lips.

Blue-Father laughed, the light sparking off his spikey guan when he shook his head fondly. “Alright, I’ll play if you turn around. What do we find?”

Obediently, Jingyi spun back around and waited to fall into step with them, pondering the details of his gruesome demise. Beside him, Yellow-Father rolled his eyes to the ceiling with one dimple showing and Gray-Father shook his head with a grin. Then, Jingyi snapped his fingers and spread his hands theatrically just as they all rounded the corner of the hallway. “Alright, so, I’m face down in a river and I’m covered in boils--”

#3zun raise jingyi au #3zun raise jingyi au content #I swear I am also working on the other things I promised #But this just jumped straight into my head and started writing itself so #3zun #my stuff #my fic #Oh yeah you know what's gonna happen ;) I'm gonna post this and find 10 things I hate about it ;) and wish I had proofread better.#RIP Future me but I'm different [presses post]

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draconic-ichor · 3 years ago

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In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 32: NightMare

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, violence, brief animal death

Summary: Juniper finds herself in a strange place with an unlikely companion.

Feedback appreciated, 18+

“What are you doing?” Heisenberg watched as Juniper drew at the opposite desk.

“I’m trying to make a sewing pattern.” She held it up for him to see.

He nodded.

“I want to make a horse stuffed animal for the baby.” She smiled over the paper.

“Because of the crest?” His lips twitched.

“Mhm.”

“You are cute.”

“Shut up.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before turning back to the desk.

She worked for hours at the opposite desk, following Donna’s teachings the best she could. Heisenberg would glance over to her every so often over his own work, his heart swelling.

“….hmmmm.” She finally spoke. She sat back in her chair looking over her creation. Heisenberg stood and walked up behind her.

He stifled the sound that bubbled up in his throat. Whatever the little creature she made was…it definitely wasn’t a horse.

“It’s….unique.” Heisenberg commented.

“It’s terrible.” Juniper sighed.

“First attempts are never what you imagine.” He soothed, “Try again.”

She pouted at the desk, “Donna made it look so easy.”

“Dollmaking has been in her family for generations, she’s been sewing since before you were born, kitten.”

When she didn’t speak he continued, “Do you know how many times it took me to make a fully functional Soldat?…Eighteen times!”

“Soldats are a bit more intricate then a stuffed animal Heis…”

“I didn’t try creating life first project. You start small and learn. This is the small.” He pointed to the misshapen stuffie, “Try again. You’ll do better.”

“Alright.” She looked over her pattern, “I might have to tweak the size of the legs…”

Heisenberg smiled, leaning down to drop a kiss onto the top of her head before returning to his own work.

After many attempts and Heisenberg leaving to go work with the forge she finally made something she was happy with.

Juniper burst into the forge room.

Heisenberg set the mold down, turning as he pulled the thick forge gloves off. “Show me, kitten.” He chuckled.

“Look!” Juniper beamed, offering out the little plush. It was a chubby little horse, made from soft brown fabric, with button eyes and dark tail. It looked cute, with a larger head and little tongue out.

“It’s perfect, love.” Heisenberg smiled, loving her happiness.

“I added something.” She held it closer, “See!”

Heisenberg felt out with his powers, realizing there was a metal washer tucked deep within the cotton interior.

“So you can get it easily for the baby.” She beamed.

Heisenberg pulled her closer, “You did good, love.”

Over dinner Heisenberg started to talk about work, happily giving updates as he ate.

“The latest Soldat Jet should be ready for a test drive soon…hopefully.” He spoke as he cut through his pork chop.

“Was that what you were making the parts for?” Juniper asked.

“Mhm.” He nodded, “The last one exploded so I need to remake some parts.”

“Exploded?” Juniper frowned, moving potatoes around her plate.

“Yea, they need a lot of power and the last one…”, he took a bite, chewing as he thought for a moment, “Well, the bastard overheated when it tried to stay aloft and he…exploded.”

“So do you think they’ll really be able to fly?” Juniper asked.

“Not like a full, long flight. But I think I can definitely make them be able to, say, hover or get over big obstacles. They won’t be realistic to make a large amount of them but a few specialized ones should work just fine.” He explained.

Juniper nodded as she ate.

Juniper was outside, in the dark and twisted trees. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there, or why it was so cold. The winter had already passed, but the night sent bitter chills straight to her bones. Juniper hugged her thin nightdress closer to her as she trudged ahead. The sound of an animal approaching made her freeze.

She saw a black mare walking in the snow, it’s hooves crunching into the thick layer of frost. It’s breaths came in plumes of silvery mist as it snorted out.

It’s movements were labored, Juniper suddenly realizing the creature was heavily pregnant as it came closer. She went to the creature, it paused, sniffing at her through large nostrils.

After a moment the mare nuzzled into her offered hand. Juniper placed an arm around the creature's neck, walking alongside it looking for shelter.

The night was silent, save for the sound of wind and snow falling. No sounds of humans or lycans anywhere. They shared their warmth, Juniper's limbs began to feel numb.

An old shed came into the distance, Juniper thankfully led the horse into the small building. It was at least out of the wind. The mare lay heavily down on the old straw. Juniper's skin felt frozen, her fingers discolored.

How did she get there, where even was she? She sat down against the horse, trying to feel her warmth.

Rustling above them drew her attention. Juniper looked up to see dozens of small sharp eyes glowing in the darkness from the ceiling rafters. The shed was full of hungry ravens, their eyes watching the pair with interest.

More than the cold made her shiver now. She returned her attention to the mare, running her hands through her short onyx fur.

As the night went on the mare started to shift uncomfortably. Juniper stayed by her.

The mare gave a grunt of pain, side spasming as she pushed. Juniper tried to sooth her the best she could, a wet sound drawing her attention.

A wet mass of fur and legs was pushed out into the old straw. The mare’s head fell against the ground, exhausted.

The baby colt broke free of the birthing sac, rolling to sit up a bit. The little thing had messy grey fur and big pale eyes, not the eyes of a horse.

A rustling made Juniper glance up. The ravens were snapping their sharp beaks, eyes hungry. The smell of blood drove them into a frenzy.

The mare made a whinny of distress, unable to stand.

Before either could react, the storm of birds was upon them. Their sharp claws dug into Juniper’s arms as she shielded her face.

The brunt of their attack, however, was on the new colt. The newborn cried out a mixture of terror and pain as it was consumed by the mass.

Juniper tried to swat the birds away, the cries becoming shrill.

The birds pulled away bits for themselves, beaks bloody and savage. Cries of the mare mixed into the chaos. The black wings sounded like the rumble of thunder in the cold air.

Juniper suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. The dying wails of the colt were still ringing in her ears. Juniper looked around the room frantically, heart in her throat. She was in her bed, softly in the apartment. She’d kicked off her covers at some point, her skin cold.

Suddenly the apartment was bathed in a flash of light, moments before the familiar growl of thunder rumbled overhead.

It was a dream….just a dream.

She tried to calm herself. But the death cries of the newborn and the creature’s big innocent pale eyes were branded into her mind. She felt a shiver run through her as hot tears scored her cheeks. She pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face into her skirt as she cried.

She hoped the storm would mask her state from Heisenberg.

Her hopes were dashed when after the next clap of thunder she felt the man stir beside her.

She tried to gulp away the tears to no avail. Now that she started her body was hell bent on spilling out all its sadness and fears.

Hearing her distress, Heisenberg pushed away from the bed worriedly.

“Buttercup?” He reached a hand out, movements dulled by sleep, “Come’re.”

Not giving her the option of protest he pulled her by the arm into his warm embrace. Juniper made a little squeak as he enveloped her in his strong arms.

“What’s got you all worked up?” He yawned, nuzzling into her.

She pressed a wet cheek into his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat.

“Is it the storm?” He ventured.

“…no.” She admitted, swallowing, “It was just a nightmare.”

Very accustomed to his own share of nightmares, he nodded in understanding. “Want to talk?” He offered.

Juniper shook her head, burying her face deeper into him, snaking her arms around his soft sides.

“Alright.” He kissed the top of her head, already feeling sleep pulling him back in.

Even though she didn’t want to talk about her dream, and told Heisenberg time and time again she was ok, it was obvious whatever nightmare her brain thought up was affecting her.

The next day he caught her staring out the window, watching the raindrops race across the glass with lips a thin line.

“Doll?” He placed a hand on her side.

Juniper jumped, not hearing him approach. “Oh…hey Karl.” She murmured looking down at her feet.

“You ok?”

“Yea, yea of course.”

“You’ve been looking out that window awfully hard.” He frowned.

“Just thinking.” She shrugged, “I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced, a length of silence bubbling up between them.

“The jet is almost done right?” Juniper pointed out, “Go finish it, love.”

“Hm.” Heisenberg stepped back, “Fine.”

He needed to get work done, fingers itching for progress, and she knew how to propel him forward with that hunger. He relented, giving her space to think in the dreary apartment.

Nights later…

Heisenberg woke to an empty bed, feeling around in the dark. The sheets had grown cold. He sat up blinking, worry waking him up further. He stood, hearing a muffled sound from the bathroom. Walking towards it, the sound became more audible, broken sobs hidden behind the door.

He found it unlocked, opening it slowly. Moonlight filtered into the room, illuminating Juniper. She sat in the dry tub, legs drawn up as she cried into her hands. Her raven hair shining in the silvery light.

“Buttercup, you ok?” Heisenberg asked, sleep thick in his tone.

Juniper looked up suddenly, her eyes glowing reflectively. She sniffed, “I’m ok…I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

Heisenberg nodded, understandingly, padding in. He closed the lid of the toilet, sitting down.

Juniper wiped her face on the sleeve of the shirt she wore, easing her legs down.

She was starting to show, her belly beginning to swell.

“I’m just…I don’t know.” She frowned. Heisenberg made a rumble of acknowledgment .

She looked at him for a long moment before speaking, “I felt it move.”

“The baby?”

“Yea…felt it jolt a bit.” She admitted, “And I already care about it…I care so fucking much, I just want it to be ok.” Tears fell down her face.

He leaned forward to touch her cheek, she knelt into the contact.

“What if there’s something wrong with it?” Juniper sobbed, “What if whatever Miranda did hurt it?”

Heisenberg felt a pang of anger shoot through him. He would do whatever he could to keep Juniper safe and the baby secret. The thought of Miranda already sinking her claws into them again made bile rise in his throat.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He lied, “Normal for them to move around right?”

Juniper gulped, nodding, “The book says it’s healthy.”

“See, it’s good for ‘em.” Heisenberg dried her tears, “You know what’s not good?”

“Hm?”

“My little mama crying her damn eyes out in the bathtub all night.” He began to stand, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“…ok.” She relented, accepting his offered hand. He helped her up. They made their way back to the bed, snuggling under the blankets.

Heisenberg wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close so her back was flush against his chest.

His hands drifted downwards, placing his palm flat against her growing belly. He waited for a moment curiously.

“Wanting it to move again?” Juniper whispered.

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think they do that too much this early, but the book says as they grow they move a lot more.” She explained, “If they move a lot they are a strong baby.”

“Then let’s hope the pup dances.” Heisenberg kissed her ear, causing her to let out a little giggle.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #in the steel steeds heart #heisenberg #resident evil

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pasiveagressive · 3 years ago

Text

Pen Pal // h.s.

Warning: light language, there is a mention of self harm, and some verbal abuse.

Highschool AU This is really long for me 9.4k words and it’s not really done I am thinking a part 2 and maybe even a 3. Let me know what you think!

When she was five she was given a project from her teacher saying that she had to write to a pen pal. She had no idea what a pen pal was and how she got one, but she had told the class that a pen pal was someone who lived far away and we wrote a letter to them. Their letters were going to England to another class and they had to write them and they had to write back. This sounded fun. Teacher had a hat in her hands and when she passed it around we had to pick out a piece of paper that contained a name and an address. She took her's out and saw the name, it was a boy, she didn't like boys, well that wasn't true, the only boy's she liked were her brother, her best friend and her daddy. The teacher told the class they had to write to their pen pals for the whole school year.

#####

When she was ten, she still wrote to her pen pal, she didn't understand why she had been writing him for the last five years, but she had been. He was funny and easy to talk too, she thought that perhaps this boy was going to be her first crush, something she thought one of her brother's friends would be, but she was pretty sure this boy was. He helped her through a lot, like when Mommy and Daddy argued and doors slammed or when Mommy packed up her suitcases and left or when Daddy didn't come down from his room and her brother had to take care of her or when Daddy changed. He helped her a lot, and she helped him too, they sometimes even helped each other with their homework. She had found a true friend in him, and she hoped he felt the same about her.

#####

When she was twelve her Daddy let her have an E-Mail and she told the boy, he too had an E-mail and they talked on MSN all the time, but they still wrote letters to each other, personally hand written pieces of paper seemed much nicer than typed words on a screen. Her brother was about to be in high school now and she would be starting middle school next year. The boy had started middle school this year and it was the first time, she realized, that she knew how old he was. They would talk about homework; friends and she asked him questions about boys. The boy didn't answer a lot of them but she didn't mind, the only boy she cared about noticing her was him, but then something dawned on her. They may never meet.

When she was fifteen she started High School and the boy was a year ahead of her. Her mother had returned to the city, remarried, and she wanted to see her children, but she refused to go, as far as she was concerned her mother had abandoned her and her brother and her Father had taken care of them, but he had changed even more. Her brother would soon be off to college and she would still be here, her father wasn't so bad, only when he disapproved of something did he get angry, he never struck her, her brother would never allow it, he was protective over his baby sister especially now that boy's had started to notice her. She still wrote to the boy and told him all about her problems, it had been ten years and she could still confide in him and he confided in her and she liked it that way. It meant that somewhere she had someone who cared, someone who listened. Someone who knew her better than anyone.

###

She was sixteen when her world began to change, she still wrote to the boy and now she had a boyfriend, one of her brother's friends, she was a cheerleader and he was a soccer player and was on the swim team. Then she got a letter, it said that he had received a scholarship to her school and he was coming to New York, she was ecstatic and began to write him back when the pen suddenly fell from her hands as she realized something she had been denying. She had feelings for the boy with the elegant handwriting and who always wrote in blue pen. He couldn't come here, not when she had a boyfriend, but who was she kidding, they didn't know what each other looked like, so maybe she could hide who she was from him, the only thing he knew about he was her name and there was more than one Y/N in her school, but he never called her by her real name, when he was ten he gave her a nickname and nobody knew it except for him. She realized how ridiculous she was being, this boy had no romantic interest in her and if he did, what did it matter? She has a boyfriend now.

What she didn't know was when he came to New York her whole life would change and he would be a part of that change.

She had feelings for the boy with the elegant script and blue pen, and they were not going to go away.

"Ugh, how can you eat so much?"

Y/N Y/L/N looked at a friend with thinly veiled disgust, she had no idea where Maya put it all and considering she was eating cafeteria food, it made it just that much worse. Especially because today's menu was all seafood.

"Excuse me for being one of the few girls in the world that acknowledges a love for food." She said and then took a bite out of a fish stick and grinned.

"Hey, I like food just not too much." Y/N said, eyeing what could only be Maya's twentieth piece of fried fish.

"That's because you, my friend, are a cheerleader and must stay in impeccable shape." Maya winked and then went back to eating.

Y/N sighed, it was true, part of the reason as to why she didn't eat a lot was cheerleading, she needed to stay small so she could tumble and be thrown in the air. Maya seemed to resent her for the fact that she was a cheerleader, but Y/N could not help it if Maya did not have great hand eye coordination. She knew Maya didn't really like her, but she put up with having her around because Will and Joel liked her. She didn't know why Maya hated her, she thought it was partly because she was part of the in crowd and Maya thought that they were all snobs.

Y/N was no snob.

Someone patted her head and she turned to look and was looking into the kind eyes of her best friend.

Will Davis.

His brown hair was in his eyes, covering the chocolate orbs. He sat down, his skinny frame folding easily on the chair. He had to push his glasses from the end of his nose back up to where they were supposed to be. Y/N couldn't help but grin at him, he was so normal, that was why she opted to sit with him at lunch and not the—as Maya bluntly puts it—the popular hoes.

Y/N looked over at her other friends, they were crowded around their table near the window, laughing and joking, she saw her best friend Isabella and her brother Jack, they looked annoyingly happy. She was well aware that Jack liked Isabella but his feelings were not reciprocated, but Jack was a star at school, everyone wanted to be with him, especially Kayla.

Y/N hated Kayla.

"Well, I'm done; I'm going to go prepare for class." She smiled at the group and dumped the contents of her tray into the garbage and left her tray on top, leaving the cafeteria, she straightened out her uniform and remembered something.

She had had practice this morning and all of her bag was still in her locker, crammed into the small space. She had gotten a lift with her brother today so she had to put all of her stuff in his car. Huffing, she spun back around and walked over to her brother's table, feeling the eyes of her other friends on her, as if she was betraying them.

She knew that they thought sooner or later she would stop sitting with them and sit with the 'popular' crowd, but she sat with them because they were superficial, they were fun to be around and she liked them, even Maya on her good days.

"Jacky," she said, arriving at the table and stopping in front of her brother. He seemed to be in an overly animated conversation with Liam, her more or less boyfriend.

"Yes?" He looked up at her, sounding bored.

"I need your keys so I can put my stuff in your car." She held her hand out expectantly but Jack made no move to hand over the keys. She was aware that the group was staring and acutely aware that Kayla was practically drooling over her brother, she didn't see the big deal. She could admit that he was nice looking but hot? No way, then again he was her brother it would be weird if she thought he was a god like the rest of the school.

Jack was nearly eighteen and this was his senior year, along with Liam, Kayla and a few others. He received a lot of female attention and people were always asking if they were really related, Y/N could see why, they looked nothing alike.

Jack had silvery blonde hair and dark eyes, he was tall and had a soccer player's build, where Y/N had Y/C/H and Y/C/E, and had a frame that was slightly toned from nearly four years of cheerleading.

Y/N never understood why she was a cheerleader, she wasn't a girly girl and she didn't dress up a lot, she was more into art, but then cheerleading provided her with confidence and made her feel alive like nothing had before, she loved the feeling of being tossed into the air and soaring like a bird. It was freeing.

"How do I know that you aren't going to joy ride and leave me stranded here?" Y/N scoffed at this.

"Honestly, even if I was going to do that, you would never be stranded, I'm sure there are a million people who would give you a ride." She batted her lashes innocently at him.

He could never deny giving his sister anything, he loved her, he had taken care of her when Father had been unfit, he watched over her, he protected her.

"Fine, here, but give them straight back." He said firmly and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah." She said turning back and going to her locker. Maybe she should joyride, just to teach him a lesson, then again, that would be one time that Jack didn't protect her.

Y/N walked to her locker, putting in the combination and opening it; grabbing her bag she hauled it over her shoulder and was about to head out to the student parking lot when a hand gently grabbed her waist pulling her back. She raised her eyes to see Liam, smiling down at her.

Liam was her boyfriend, she supposed, they had been together for over a month now and Y/N was very happy. He was very good looking with brown hair that had a messy on purpose look, brown eyes, like melting chocolate, a tall stature and the build of a soccer player mixed in with the grace of a swimmer.

"Hey," he said as he moved, causing her to walk back and feel the cool metal of the locker's behind her.

"Hey," she said smiling. Liam's hand snaked out to play with a strand of her hair. He always played with her hair, Y/N didn't understand the fascination, it was a big frizz ball as far as she was concerned.

"Any plans tonight?" He asked while still fiddling with her hair.

"Sure, with the most wonderful man." Liam looked confused and let her hair fall back. "You should meet him, ever heard of Edgar Allen Poe?" She smirked as he shook his head.

"You are a devil woman." He moved so that Y/N could do what she had originally planned and put her bag in her brother's car.

"Walk with me?" She asked and he nodded, taking her bag and holding her hand.

She knew a lot of girls didn't understand why Liam was dating her; she didn't understand it herself, he was popular, the whole female population of Anchor Academy wanted him and threw dagger looks at her in the halls, but she revelled in it, for once she was envied, for once people wanted to be her.

Y/N deposited her bag in the boot of her brother's truck and turned to the back seat where she knew she had left her pencil box, she slid them into her brown leather backpack and locked the car—after closing the door—and spun to Liam. He had his hands on her hips and was staring down at her with a burning intensity.

"Do you want to do something tonight?" He asked in a shaky voice. They had never been this close before, they hadn't even done more than pecks, she didn't know what was stopping her but she knew she was grateful that he was patient, she wondered how long that would last.

"I can't, I'm sorry, but I have to finish this assignment." The bell rang then and Y/N now understood the meaning of the phrase saved by the bell. "I need to go, but I'll see you tomorrow?" She got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, waving as she headed to class.

Y/N wasn't exactly lying to Liam, she did need to finish this assignment, but it wasn't due for another two weeks. Y/N knew why she didn't go out a lot on school days, but that was her secret.

#####

Y/N sat at her computer desk, researching for this English paper when her chat window came up.

Hello Y/N

Y/N smiled and typed back. They had been friends for eleven years now, he knew her inside and out as she knew him, except for the fact that they had no idea what the other looked like, she thought and he agreed that it would be better to keep their faces hidden, like real pen pals.

Y/N remembered the day she had been told she had to write to him and the day he walked into her life, never walking out.

Y/N sat at her seat next to her new friend Will. He was funny looking; he had really big glasses and funny hair. They were friends because Y/N saw him reading and she wanted to read too.

"Okay guy, we are doing a fun new assignment called Pen Pals! This means, each of you will select a name from this hat," She held the hat out for show. "And you will write that person a letter and then they will write you one and you will keep replying until the end of the year. Does that sound like fun?" The teacher was overexcited, Y/N didn't see the big deal, she was writing to a stranger. Her mom always told her never to talk to strangers.

The hat was passed around and Y/N dipped her hand in and pulled out a piece of paper, handing the hat to Will. She opened the paper and saw the name of her 'Pen Pal'.

Harry Styles

Under his name was what she thought was an address. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil and began to write her first letter.

Dear Harry...

You're distracting me from homework, Y/N replied to Harry. When she had started that assignment she had no idea she was going to make a lifelong friend, a best friend and she had, in Harry, he had been her first crush, even if she hadn't officially met him, Y/N had wanted him to be her first kiss too, but that was impossible in case she was able to get a plane to England and the little savings she had in her piggy bank, Father gave her money but she always used that on the weekends, going to movies or restaurants or clubs.

Really, what are you doing?

She was about to respond when he wrote something else and she giggled.

More importantly, what are you wearing? ;)

Y/N shook her head; Harry was always a cocky smartass.

Edgar Allan Poe

You're wearing Edgar Allan Poe? Lucky guy

Oh haha! I am studying Edgar Allan Poe and wearing nothing

Harry didn't reply, which was uncommon for him, not much rendered him speechless, in the time they had spoken, be it through letter or internet, she had learnt a lot about Harry and his life, what he was like and what he was hiding, she felt as if she was one of the only people who knew the real Harry and somehow that made her feel lucky.

What poem?

He ignored the naked comment. Smooth.

Instead of typing the title, which he would then Google, Y/N wrote the poem to him, perhaps he could shed some light on it for she was having no luck.

Romance, who loves to nod and sing,

With drowsy head and folded wing,

Among the green leaves as they shake

Far down within some shadowy lake,

To me a painted paroquet

Hath been- a most familiar bird-

Taught me my alphabet to say-

To lisp my very earliest word

While in the wild wood I did lie,

A child- with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal Condor years

So shake the very Heaven on high

With tumult as they thunder by,

I have no time for idle cares

Through gazing on the unquiet sky.

And when an hour with calmer wings

Its down upon my spirit flings-

That little time with lyre and rhyme

To while away- forbidden things!

My heart would feel to be a crime

Unless it trembled with the strings.

Y/N awaited his response as she read over the lines of the poem herself. The poem was called Romance and Y/N really hoped Harry didn't read something onto the title.

Well Y/N, it seems you have a pickle in your hands here.

Ever the asshole, Harry didn't help her at all. She sighed, deciding he was too distracting for her to actually get work done.

I'm signing off, you really are no help. Talk to you soon.

Y/N logged off before he could respond. For another hour she pondered what the poem could mean and then gave up and decided to concentrate on her art assignment. She was supposed to draw something that meant a lot to her but she couldn't think of anything except for Harry and she couldn't very well draw him, she had no idea what he looked like.

Then an idea no, more like an image, came to fruition within her thoughts and she began sketching, not knowing where this idea had come from, but she was going with it, it was all the help she was going to get.

Y/N awoke the next morning and sauntered into the kitchen, pouring herself some cereal she went to get milk when she saw the envelope sitting there, with her name written on the front in elegant script and written in blue biro. She knew who it was from immediately and sitting at the table, her breakfast forgotten, she opened the letter and started reading.

She was glad she didn't eat, because she probably would have just thrown it all up with the nausea she felt.

Harry was coming to New York, not only that he was coming to her school.

That was bad, he would see her, who she really was, who her friends were, what her friends were like, her brother and he would see what she looked like. Y/N suddenly felt extremely self conscious and opted not to wear her original outfit and instead wear baggy jeans, a tank top, a giant hoodie and ugly sneakers.

She didn't want Harry to see her because she knew, she knew that he would be beautiful and she was not, he would laugh at her and never speak to her again.

Y/N didn't think she could handle losing her friend, her best friend, her soul mate.

Y/N had never changed outfits so many times in her life.

She had gone from baggy, to slutty, to loose fitting, to tight, to exposing, to completely covered, and finally she decided to go for a mix and ended up in something she would normally wear. Looking at herself in the mirror she realised that being friends with Isabella had influenced her style way too much.

And even scarier, she had never put in this much effort to look nice for Liam.

Y/N was wearing a loose grey shirt with a leather belt that emphasised her small waist, a pair of black skinny jeans covered her legs and her feet were enclosed in ballet flats. Her hair was pinned on one side and her makeup was light, she wore no jewellery and she had her bag slung around her shoulders.

Y/N descended the stairs and grabbed a berry yogurt from the fridge for breakfast and waited for her brother.

Jack came down the stairs a few minutes later and nodded at her, picking up his backpack and an apple, grabbing his keys they were about to leave when their father came out from the study.

He was always in the study.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" He asked Y/N, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. Y/N looked down at her attire, not seeing anything wrong with it.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked cautiously, standing closer to Jack.

When her father drank, he drank until he couldn't see anymore and he always asked or commented on Y/N's looks and she knew why. She looked exactly like her mother. Jack always came to her rescue when he started on a tirade, she was grateful to have such a loving brother.

"It looks like you are trying to impress a man. I want to know who?" Y/N cringed back at the look her father gave her. She hated it when he was like this.

Ever since their mother had abandoned them, Y/N's father had indulged in Alcohol and, as a result, had lost his job. They had nearly lost their home until, one day; their father had snapped out of it and got himself together. He got another job and was earning good money, Jack got a part time job for extra money and Y/N also got a summer job to pay for art classes.

He still drank and when he did, Y/N would rather avoid him.

"No one sir, I was just trying out a new style."

"What's it called? Whore?"

"Father." Jack stepped in, standing between Y/N and their father. "Enough. You're drunk."

"Just like your mother, she abandoned you kids, I stayed and this is how you repay me? By looking like something out of a x-rated movie?"

Y/N bit her lip and kept her tears at bay.

He wasn't her daddy right now. He was the thing that their mother had made.

"Y/N," Jack whispered. "Go to the car." Y/N did and waited for Jack.

When he appeared she was fidgeting with her outfit.

"Y/N, you look beautiful. Don't listen to him."

She smiled as he unlocked the car. She put her stuff on the back seat and sat, buckling her seat belt and fiddling with the music as he took off towards school.

"But out of pure curiosity, who are you trying to impress?"

My pen pal from kindergarten who just moved to this school.

"No one, just trying something new."

#####

Harry rolled his eyes, walking along behind the chick giving him the tour of the school.

Isabella? That was her name he thought. She seemed to like to talk and look at herself and look at Harry. Typical Barbie teenager, he could have her in minutes if he wanted, but he was far too anxious about where he was and who he knew was here. He felt oddly nervous, but he didn't know why. He knew that he was good looking—okay, that was an understatement—he could get any girl he wanted with a snap of his fingers, but it was different now.

He knew everything about Y/N—except for what she looked like, which was a big thing for Harry. He could admit that he was shallow, he always went for the easy girls as opposed to any other girl, but he doubted that Y/N was easy.

The fact that she had a boyfriend said so.

Harry clenched his jaw at that thought, it was ridiculous to get annoyed over one word, but Y/N having a boyfriend was not the way he had pictured their first meeting to go. He expected her to fall into his arms or his bed, depending on the location.

He had to stop thinking of Y/N like that. They were friends, best friends, and had been since she was five and he was six, he loved her like a friend and cared about her. He lived for the days they would talk for hours. He loved being able to open up to her.

He loved having a girl as his friend that cared about him even though she had no idea what he looked like.

"And this is the cafeteria. You can sit with me, you said you played soccer right?" Harry nodded at Isabella's question. "Good, I sit with some soccer players." They walked into the room; it was white and blue with long tables and benches. There was a lineup for the food but Harry wrinkled his nose.

He never ate cafeteria food; he always brought his own lunch.

He had told his Grandmother this and she had packed him a lunch. His stomach growled thinking about it.

"Did you want some food?" She asked.

"I have some with me." He responded, giving her his signature smirk. She smiled back at him and batted her eyelashes as she trotted off to a table in the back with a group of boys and girls. Isabella sat and gestured to a spare seat next to her in which Harry took.

"Everyone," She announced, gesturing to the group as a whole. "This is Harry Styles, he's new. He moved here from England and he too plays soccer."

"Interested in trying out? We need a new player." A boy with light silver-white hair asked.

"Sure," Harry responded nonchalantly, when really the prospect of playing the game he loved so much gave him a kick of adrenaline.

"Excellent. Come to practice this afternoon." He reached over offering his hand. "I'm Jack, captain, goalie." Harry shook his hand, recognising the name.

My older brother, Jack, is starting second grade next year.

Jack starts high school soon.

My brother got into the soccer team.

Jack was made captain!

So, this was Y/N's brother. He studied the boy, trying to imagine his features on a girl. An image rose. Dark eyes, contrasting with a pale complexion, tall and stringy, like a beanstalk, with a bit of athleticism due to cheerleading and long silvery hair.

Harry wasn't entirely put off by the image.

"That's Isabella, as you know." Jack continued, pointing to the girl next to him. "Cherr captain. Laney and Kayla are also cheerleaders. Liam, Jared are also on the team. The others are around somewhere, but we all prefer each other's company."

Harry acknowledged everyone with a nod, noting that Liam was a boy with dark hair and eyes and was also, he suspected, Y/N's boyfriend.

This guy, one of my brothers' friends, asked me out so I won't be able to talk tonight.

Liam, the guy I went on a date with, asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes.

Harry knew he was much better looking.

Harry looked around the cafeteria, trying to see if he could spot her.

"Ah," Jack said and here comes the most important member of our group.

Harry looked to where Jack was pointing and saw a girl walking towards them, tray in hand. Her eyes met Harry's and everything seemed to go silent. She was beautiful, not a generic beauty, but someone who didn't know how beautiful they were. Hair in a braid at her side, big luminous eyes widened as they looked at Harry. A small frame, with some muscle.

"Who?" Harry asked, not able to tear his eyes from her. His study happened in a split second; no one noticed that they had shared a moment.

A moment he would never forget.

"My sister."

The moment he first saw his Y/N.

#####

"Come on Y/N, you don't want to miss him, he is so hot." Stella, her partner in science, pushed Y/N out of the class.

She was trying to get Y/N to the cafeteria to see the new boy, she had heard about him all day and received an excited message from Isabella saying she was escorting him. She had heard he was hot but she knew something about him that no one else did.

The new boy was Harry Styles, her pen pal for over ten years.

Y/N was nervous as her and Stella approached the cafeteria, Stella scanned the room and her shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"He isn't here yet. Let's line up, by the time we get our food, he should be here."

Y/N waited in line, noting that her brother and boyfriend came through and immediately sat down. They never ate school food. Y/N was envious. She hated the oily, bland food they made. She made a note to go car shopping sooner so that she could leave during lunch and buy something.

Y/N got her tray and on it placed an apple juice, a salad, a chocolate muffin and a small bowl of Mac 'n' Cheese.

Y/N decided to sit at her Brother's table today—well Isabella had decided for her—and as she made her way over, she stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met with him.

His eyes were bright, emerald green and his hair was shaggy and brunette, falling under his chin and just above his eyes. His skin was sun kissed and he had an athlete's build. He was the most handsome boy Y/N had ever seen. Then it registered.

She had never seen this boy before, he was sitting with her brother, her boyfriend and Isabella and he, too, was staring at her.

She felt a lump build in her throat and she didn't need Stella's input.

"That's him, the new boy."

Y/N gulped and suddenly felt the urge to run and hide.

The new boy.

Her boy.

Her best friend.

Harry Styles, her Harry.

Y/N was able to move from her spot once Stella broke the trance she had been in.

She didn't look at him when she got to the table, taking a seat next to Liam and realising with annoyance that Harry was across from her. She couldn't look at him, then they would all know. They would know she knew Harry, she cared for Harry and she couldn't let that happen.

"Hey baby," Liam said as she settled in her seat. Leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. Y/N's eyes inadvertently went to Harry as his lips made contact. His eyes blazed and his jaw tightened as Liam kissed her, but Y/N didn't understand why.

"Ow," Liam said as he pulled away, glaring at Jack. "Who just throws bread at someone?"

"That's my sister," Jack said. "Next time, it won't be bread."

"Jack, you are so overprotective. I am not a baby anymore" Y/N said, looking at her brother. It was the first words she had spoken since seeing Harry. She didn't look at him or tried not to anyway.

"Y/N!" Isabella said excitedly, drawing her attention. "This is Harry Styles; new guy from England, your brother is letting him try out for the team!"

Isabella, I know more about him than you, shut up and stop looking at him like that!

Y/N let her gaze go to Harry.

"Really? You must be something special to get that stubborn JACKass to let you try out." She smiled innocently at Jack.

"Oh you have no idea." Harry replied, his voice like heaven.

"We'll see about that." Liam said, slinging his arm around Y/N. "Are you coming to see his tryout babe?"

Y/N looked over at Harry who smirked at her quickly before glancing down at his untouched lunch. He seemed to have packed lunch, Y/N found that cute.

"Wouldn't miss it."

###

Y/N changed into some workout clothes.

"Alright," Isabella said as they stretched on the field. "We are going to practice the cheers for next weeks game, because frankly you suck at it. Let's go!"

Isabella was nothing if not direct.

She looked out at the field and saw Liam; he smiled and waved to her. Jack saw this and whacked him over the head.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that.

Then she noticed Harry and all laughter died as they looked at one another from across the field. He was shirtless, and boy did he look good, and he made it no secret to check her out. Y/N turned from him before Liam or Jack saw the look Harry was giving her.

She was distracted all through practice, but luckily, she wasn't the worse one here. A lot of the other girls were distracted by Harry too. Y/N tried not to dwell on that.

As the cheerleaders were packing, Y/N noticed Jack and Harry shaking hands and smiling.

He must have made the team

She saw Liam then and he began to walk over to her, she smiled and walked over to him, after having packed up what she was supposed to, and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers.

"So, Harry is a pretty good player isn't he?" Y/N said as she pulled away from Liam, taking his hand and walking to where she would change.

"Yeah, I guess so, hopefully he will be enough to get us out of this slump."

"I'm sure he will be." They had reached the entrance to the girl's locker room and Y/N looked up at Liam, his brown eyes smiling at her.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

Y/N was about to say no, that Jack gave her a lift to school and would take her home but then she thought about how little time she spent with Liam and nodded, hurrying to get changed and coming back out in record time.

"That was fast." He commented, smirking at her as he took her school bag.

"Well, I wanted to spend time with you." Y/N crinkled her nose. The girl's locker room always smelled like perfume, too much perfume and all of different scents. It got quite difficult to breathe in there.

"Cutie."Liam bent down and brushed his lips over Y/N's.

Liam pulled back grinned, Y/N stood and stared up at him, unable to form words.

The kiss was small, short and...Nice.

"Why Miss Y/L/N I do believe my kissing has stunned you into silence. I am quite good."

Y/N shook her head and shoved his arm playfully, about to say something smartass back to him when something caught her eyes. A flash, retreating into the boys' locker room.

Harry?

She turned back to Liam and they continued walking, they were nearly at his car when she remembered something. Slapping a hand to her forehead. Liam looked down at her in concern.

"Shoot, I forgot my homework in my locker. I'll be right back." She began to run towards the school.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"I'll meet you at the car in a couple of minutes." She called back to him, dashing into the doors and running to her locker.

She put in the combination and got the book she needed, shutting her locker door she turned to go and jumped, seeing something she hadn't noticed before.

"Well, alone at last."

Y/N looked up at the person before her, feeling her insides melt.

"Harry," She breathed, unable to say anything but his name.

"Well Y/N, we meet at last."

Y/N looked up at Harry. She wasn't ready for this, no matter how many times she told herself she was, she wasn't and she realised she never would be ready to meet Harry. He was someone that she could turn to when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was someone she could tell everything to—she had told everything to him and he was her best friend, someone who knew her better than anyone and now that he was here, she regretted telling him all those things. She regretted letting Harry in.

"I should go," she mumbled and started to walk away. Harry grabbed her arm and she spun, nearly head butting his chest. For a moment she stood frozen and, annoyingly, a song started playing through her head, one that she should not be thinking about when she had a boyfriend.

At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are over.

"Y/N" Harry whispered and she saw how close their faces were, his lips mere centimetres from hers. If she leaned forward, just a little, they would kiss and she had thought about kissing Harry plenty. Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. His eyes travelled down to her lips and then back to her eyes. He was about to say something. Y/N wanted to hear it, she wanted to hear what he had to say to her, but the trance they were in was broken when Harry smirked down at her and spoke.

"I always imagined our meeting to go a little...differently."

Y/N didn't like his tone and managed to step out of his grip on her arm.

"You've imagined our meeting?" She asked, her voice coming out a little breathlessly.

"All the time, Y/N," she tried not to think of how her nickname—the name only he called her—sounded like a caress. "I mean, we've known each other for years and we have never met. I've always wondered what it would be like." He grinned wickedly at her and Y/N felt herself respond with a small, teasing, smile. One Isabella had taught her.

Damn her flirting classes to the pits of hell!

"Well, it's great to, you know, finally meet you. We should definitely hang out some—" Harry placed a hand over her mouth and moved his eyes in the direction of an empty room. Y/N felt her brow furrowed in confusion and then she registered the sound of footsteps. She didn't have time to respond before Harry was walking towards the room, with her in tow, locking the door and pulling the blind down.

"Harry," She hissed. "What are you—?"

"Y/N?"

The voice came from the hallway and Y/N widened her eyes as she recognised it. Harry put a finger to his lips in the international sign for silence.

"Y/N, baby?"

Liam was walking past the door and Y/N had to resist the urge to yell out his name, Harry saw this and leaned into her, whispering in her ear. His breath caused her to shiver.

"Y/N, I just want to talk to you alone."

"Harry, he's my ride home and my boyfriend," she said defensively.

"Text him and tell him you need to do something really quickly and you'll be out soon."

Y/N looked up at Harry, planning on defying him and then she thought about it. She would never be alone with Harry again and she had wanted to meet him—talk to him in person—for years. Perhaps she should listen.

She took her phone out and sent a quick text to Liam.

Hey babe. Running late, meet you out the front in a few? Sorry for taking so long xox

Harry gave her an approving look as they heard Liam's phone go off and he headed back down the hallway, leaving the school.

"Okay, you have five minutes, what?" She asked Harry.

The Harry in her head looked like the Harry before her except for the attitude. Her Harry was sweet, funny and romantic. Harry, though funny, didn't seem to have anything sweet in him.

"Cute," Harry said and she looked up seeing one corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile.

"What is?" She asked.

"You," he grinned and Y/N grinned back. Then her smiled faded as he kept looking her up and down. Y/N squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny. He was looking at her like...like a piece of meat, ogling her. This was not how she imagined Harry would look at her; she imagined kindness to shine from his eyes and a feeling of safety to wrap around her.

Right now, all she felt was...uncomfortable.

"Look Harry," Y/N said, raising her eyes to his. "I really need to go," she said firmly, trying to get him to shake off the look of a stranger checking out the best piece of ass. He didn't.

"Oh Y/N, I have been waiting to meet you for over ten years and you're just going to walk away from me?" He shook his head. "I thought we were friends, best friends."

"We were—are—but Harry, I really need to go. I'll—I'll talk to you later, tonight, okay?" He gave her a curious look.

"No girl," he said slowly, "has ever walked away from me. It is unfamiliar and quite disconcerting. I don't like it very much but it seems to make you far more endearing. I enjoy a good chase, Y/N," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "But be warned, I am quite good at catching what I want."

Y/N looked at him with disgust and shoved past him.

So this was who her best friend really was, an asshat that liked to use girls. Well, she wasn't going to be one of them.

"If I had known this is what you were really like," she said, hand on the door knob, turning to face him, "I never would have kept writing to you."

Harry drummed his fingers in time with the music on the steering wheel of his car.

He was driving to a local corner store, a mini mart of sorts, to get some things for his grandmother. He didn't mind helping her. She was letting him live with her, rent free and even gave him money for doing her favours. Harry didn't want to take it, but she was pushy and would put it in his wallet while he was asleep.

He smiled at the thought.

"I never would have kept writing to you."

His smile fell as that unpleasant thought worked its way into his mind and he slammed his hand, hard, on the steering wheel, berating himself. He couldn't believe how bad his meeting with Y/N went. He was such an ass. He knew he was, he could proudly admit it and also admit to the fact that there was no hidden reason behind his being an ass, no woman who scorned him, no abusive relationship with his parents and no reason at all.

Except that he was an ass and he enjoyed being an ass.

Mostly.

His arrogance only got him so far in life. Sometimes he would have to reel it in and suck up his pride and stop being an ass. Perhaps he should have done that with Y/N.

She had always been there for him, since he was six years old and first received her letter. When he found out she was a girl he was instantly annoyed, girls had cooties, but he wrote back anyway. That stupid egg headed boyfriend of hers had called her baby and Harry had to suppress a laugh at that, he had had so many babies in his short life and knew that more would come. But there is only one Y/N

It had been a week since Y/N had spoken to him and if she did look at him, she glared. It bothered Harry, more than he was willing to admit, that this girl he had known for so long—and had finally met—may hate him. He had no one but himself to blame, it was easy to act differently when typing on a computer or writing a letter.

Harry only acted that way with family and very close friends. Never had he acted the way he had with Y/N with any other girl. He had never given them special nicknames or blown off parties to 'hang out'. He never stayed up all night talking or anxiously awaiting a reply.

He had never wanted someone like he wanted Y/N.

Not in a physical way, although she was remarkably good looking. He wanted Y/N on an emotional level too. He wanted to kiss her if he wanted and do things to her he had done before with other girls, but he also wanted to be able to talk to her, to tell her how he felt and have her listen and in turn, listen to her.

Was this love he was feeling? Had he fallen in love with the girl who never wrote in cursive and never stuck to one pen colour?

Harry thought about it and a startling revelation came to him.

He was most definitely in love with Y/N.

There was no other way to explain his feelings and even—dear god!—the silly grin that was now on his face as he thought about it. He pulled up to a red light and groaned, hitting the steering wheel.

I'm in love with my best friend and treated her like crap.

God he was stupid.

Y/N had been a constant in his life. He had always been able to turn to her for comfort and she had turned to him. He knew more about her than anyone probably did. He knew that when her mother left, Y/N had cut one line along her wrist and then looked at herself in disgust for doing it because her mother didn't deserve her blood. He knew that she hadn't spoken to her mother—Val—since she walked out, and he knew what her father would call her when he was drunk.

He knew her favourite colours, movies, T.V. shows, books and what she wanted to do. He knew her fears and her dreams. He knew that she loved carrots and detested broccoli. He knew that she would only ever dot her I's with hearts if hell froze over, and she liked to draw smiley faces on the toes of her converse.

He smiled thinking about it all and then he saw her in his memory, the way she had looked when he had first laid eyes on her and his heart sped up.

I am in love, aren't I?

He didn't understand how he was in love. He always thought he would fall in love when he was older. He knew Y/N, inside and out and he realised that he had been falling in love with her, slowly, since that first letter and had been in love with her long before he saw her.

Harry jolted with surprise at that, as the light turned green and he continued to drive, he was shallow. He knew it. He only ever paid attention to a girl if she was good looking and flaunted it; tight tops, pants, short skirts, the lot. If you didn't have any of that, he wasn't interested.

With Y/N it was different, he had never seen her before and yet he always wanted to spend his time with her. Re-reading her letters, seeing if she was online, anything really. He made excuses to stay in and talk to her. He would rush home if he knew he would receive a letter from her and butterflies would go crazy in his stomach as he saw the envelope.

She always wrote on nice stationery and sprayed the letter with perfume.

He loved going on her words, tracing them with his fingers.

God, Harry thought as he pulled into the car park for the store and got out, locking his silver Audi and moving to the entrance of the store.

He froze for a moment, the last thought in his mind, whirring around as he looked at the one person behind the counter and his heart soared. They didn't see him and he ducked into an aisle as he calmed his heart and that thought that was still nagging at him.

God, I'm in love with Y/N.

#####

"Isabella, I only have a short break, what do you want?"

Y/N held the phone against her ear and shoulder as she listened to Isabella babble about the upcoming school dance. She rolled her eyes, her school had too many dances. This one was a welcoming back dance, although it wasn't scheduled for another month or so, but Isabella always had to start preparing early.

"I'm thinking blue, maybe. I think I look good in blue and gold for you. Maybe not blue, that would clash with the gold. I know, red! I'll wear red and gold and you can wear gold and red!" She chirped excitedly.

"What's the difference?" Y/N asked, opening her chocolate bar.

"Red is my feature colour, so it will be the colour of my dress and nails and lip stick and I will have gold shoes and accessories. Gold will be your feature colour and red you sub colour. Duh Y/N, have I taught you nothing?"

She rolled her eyes, thankful that Izzy couldn't see her.

"Alright, but red and gold remind me of curtains."

"Curtains?"

"Yeah, like older mansions always had red curtains and gold ropes and poles," she shrugged. "Reminds me of curtains, plus, red doesn't go with skin tone.”

"So what colour would you suggest for yourself?"

"Black."

There was a pause and then Isabella yelled into the phone.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N! You are not going to another dance in a black dress! For the love of God! Wear some colour!"

"But black is—"

"Black is a colour you wear once in a while. Not. At. Every. Social. Function," Isabella ground out and Y/N winced. "That's it! I managed to get you to dress like a girl everyday now I have to get you to dress in colours when we go out. I am scheduling a shopping trip...Two weeks before the dance. For now, we will browse online."

"Isabella—"

"What are you wearing right now?"

"A skirt and top."

"Elaborate, Y/N. Shape, colour, design?"

She sighed but continued, knowing Isabella wouldn't stop until she had an answer.

"A green skirt that is longer at the back and zips up the front and a white tank top tucked into the waist band of the skirt. My shoes are white enclosed with a wedge heel design and I am wearing gold bracelets and a silver necklace with a heart on it."

"Good girl, see? If it weren't for me, you'd be dressed like Will." Y/N didn't try to deny it.

"Isabella, I really think—"

"No excuses. It's written. It's done. Get your fabulously dressed butt back to work and call me later."

Isabella hung up and Y/N stared at the phone for a moment before sighing and putting it back in her bra—girl's gotta do what a girl's got to do—and headed back out to the register, where Mr. Stark had been managing the register.

Mr. Stark owned the small convenience store that Y/N worked at and had been good friends with her father—still was apparently, and she got the job with no problems. The pay was good and the hours flexible.

Smiling at the old man, she took her seat behind the register and waited, flipping through a magazine as she did. She heard the bell above the door chime but didn't look up, until she felt a tingle go through her and when she looked, no one was there. She frowned and then shrugged. They probably went down an aisle.

Returning to her magazine, Y/N thought through Isabella's words.

Did she need to wear more colours? Did Isabella have a point in helping her change her wardrobe from drabby to, as she says, fabby?

Looking down at herself, her style had definitely changed and Y/N liked it, maybe she should stop wearing black dresses to every dance.

Y/N saw in her peripheral a customer approach and stowed her magazine away, scanner in hand. Looking up she saw, to her dismay, who it was that was placing the items down. Locking her jaw, she decided not to acknowledge him and started scanning and placing in the paper bags that Mr. Stark used, insisting it was better than plastic. When she finished scanning, she was annoyed to find that she had to acknowledge his presence.

"Will that be all?" She asked, not quite meeting Harry's eyes. The green seemed to blaze into her.

"I think so, Y/N." The name was like a caress and Y/N had to suppress a shiver of delight. "Actually," Harry amended and Y/N looked up from typing in the total. "One more thing, when do you get off?"

"Do you use that line on every girl?" She asked, typing in the total as Harry fished bills from his wallet and handed them to her.

"Only girls I like." Y/N didn't pause in counting his change, but his words caused a thrill to go through her. "So, when do you get off?"

"Why?" She asked, handing him back his change.

"Because I want to talk, don't friends usually talk?"

"Friends yes, I wasn't aware we were friends Harry," she responded, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Y/N," He sighed. "What I said, it was completely out of line. I—I'm sorry. I was so nervous meeting you. I mean, you imagine something for so long you want it to go perfectly and then you lose all sense and start blabbering." He ran a hand through his hair and Y/N finally met his gaze.

She could see that he was sorry, in the depths of green there was regret.

"I get off at 4," she said, which was an hour away.

"Would you mind—would you mind if I took you home?"

Y/N looked up at him and saw that he was nervous. Harry had always seemed so confident in his letters and typing that she hadn't thought he could get nervous and with his looks, she thought there was no need. Although what he had said to her still hurt, she had known Harry was a player, he had told her as much, but she had never thought—never imagined—that he would treat her like one of those countless other girls, and that hurt more than words could describe.

Her decision was made as she quickly mulled that over and she told him her answer.

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