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satangcrush · 3 months ago

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pact marks pt 2

✦ CAST: lucifer, mammon, levi ✦ SUMMARY: brothers’ reaction to you hiding your pact marks (reader has hair covering the back of their neck for lucifer) ✦ WC: 2.3k-ish

[PART 1] | [PART 2] | [PART 3] | MASTERLIST

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Lucifer

Will mention it in passing to find out more about why the pact mark is gone but will not interrogate further. Instead, it keeps him up in bed wondering why you weren’t wearing the mark with pride LOL

The clear sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention as you paused in your note-taking to glance up at the culprit who broke the silence in the library. The towering figure above you makes for a dashing picture although you weren’t sure why he was hanging around you when there was a perfectly good chair opposite you that he could take a seat in.

“Can I help you…?” You trailed off as you started racking your brain for any misconduct that you might have done in the past week that he was posing as an intimidating shadow above you. Either way, it was always a safe bet to apologise first.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, nervousness making your heart beat a little faster. This should be enough, right? This time, you can see his expression morph into one of confusion and a hint of…frustration.

His breath escaped with a sigh, “Why is it that whenever I come to talk, you always apologise first?” The mirth in his voice obvious as he pulled out the chair beside you to take a seat.

Oh okay, he was sitting beside you. Great, maybe you did do something wrong that you simply couldn’t recall at the moment. Or maybe, Satan and Belphie tattled on you about the prank you had helped out with last week.

He cleared his throat again, folding his hands pristinely on the table. “I just wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?” You paused in your movement, ink blotting on the sheet of paper as you pondered fervently for an appropriate reply.

“What’s up with the artificial pleasantries?” You asked warily, not sure what to make of his behaviour. You leveled him with an even stare, as you tried to decipher his thoughts.

He stared at you, noting your defensive position, with your shoulders to your ears and the way you gripped your writing utensil tightly, “Are you a masochist? Do you like my scolding that much?” He stared at you with a deadpan expression, leaning forward to flick your forehead gently.

“Relax.” He demanded, uncurling your fingers to wring your pen away as he placed the cap back to its rightful position. You continued to look at him doubtfully, leaning back in your chair as you hummed a tune that you had picked up from Levi’s anime.

(You had an idea why he was seeking you out now.)

You wore an inquisitive smile, angling your head in the way you knew Lucifer liked. “I feel like you have a question for me?” You deliberately drawled out the end of your sentence, bringing your legs up to tuck it under your chin. With his piercing stare, he met your eyes, bright crimson eyes flashing as he snorted, “Do I?”

“Well if you don’t, I’ll go back to my studies then.” You proceeded to reach out for your pen in Lucifer’s grasp, smiling when a gloved hand enclosed it further away from you, holding it high above his head.

“Fine.” He huffed, finally dropping all pretenses. “I heard that the shady sorcerer taught you something new.”

You nodded in return, not providing any further explanation. If he wanted to know any other details, he would need to learn how to put his big boy pants on and ask you with words instead.

He continued to look pointedly at you, his feet tapping an incessant rhythm on the carpeted floor. When he realised he wasn’t going to get any other information from you, he continued, ”He taught you how to cover up the pact marks, correct?”

“Yes, he indeed taught me how to cover these up,” You motioned to the back of your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he could get a better view as you rotated in your seat. “See, it’s not there.” You said triumphantly, turning back to face him.

He had a complicated expression on his face, a dark scowl planted on his lip. “Lucifer?” You called out, a teasing remark already at the tip of your tongue but before you could let it slip, he abruptly stood up to excuse himself, saying that he had to finish some work.

You sat there, bewildered. For a second, you actually contemplated standing up to chase after him but then against your better judgement, you decided not to.

‘Well, he can work through those feelings by himself before coming back to you.’ You pondered before turning back to your notes and noticing the mess left behind. Damn it, you would need to rewrite your notes seeing as the ink had seeped through... as well as getting a new pen as Lucifer had left with it.

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Mammon

Out of everyone, he would be the loudest at making it known that he disliked you not showing the pact.

“HUH?! Where did it go?!” A hand shot out and grabbed onto your wrist, making you stretch out your arms as you hurled forward in the hallway and into the chest of someone.

“Wha-” Putting your hands on his chest, you pushed back the assailant and instead met the worried expression on the Avatar of Greed’s face, “Mammon?” With a hesitant voice, you tried to tug your hand away from his scrutinising eyes.

“Arghhh… The mark! I don’t believe it! Where did the mark go?!” The panicked voice of Mammon resounded in your ears, a shrill symphony that rang throughout your head. He proceeded to grab onto your shoulder, spinning you around so many times as if an answer would apparate in thin air if he did it enough times.

You were starting to feel dizzy, the unmistakable taste of bile forcing its way up your throat. In the serene recesses of your mind, you wondered if you should just puke on Mammon and call it a day. Unfortunately, you knew that Lucifer would still make you clean up the mess and you just weren’t in the mood for it.

‘Then, there’s only one way left.’ You thought to yourself, sending a silent apology along Mammon’s way.

“Stay!” As Mammon got flung to the ground, you also ended up shooting for the ground as his arms were around you. You closed your eyes tightly to brace yourself for the impact, comforting yourself with the thought that you could just blame Mammon if you ended up with any injuries.

A yelp escaped you as you grabbed onto his shirt , as one of his hand rises up to latch on the back of your head as he tried to cushion your fall. With a poorly concealed grimace, you sat up rubbing your head with one hand while the other hand found its bearings below you… which was surprisingly soft and pillowy?

“H-hey… Are ya’ done feeling me up?! I’m ‘bout to suffocate here! Get off!” With your face burning, you quickly stood up, dusting yourself off before you offered a hand out for Mammon to grab.

He looked at the offered hand suspiciously, eyes thinning as he stared at a particular spot on your ring finger… Oh, right. Your pact mark. Right. Darn, you had hoped that none of them noticed so that you wouldn’t need to explain yourself.

“Oh, I learned how to conceal the pact marks. See?” You raised your head, finger pointing to the column of your neck, where it once laid the mark of the Avatar of Sloth. Mammon remained silent for a second, hands furling and unfolding by his side. “Well, I don’t care that ya hid the rest of the pact marks, but you can’t hide mine! No way!”

You looked at him, amused by his spluttering. “...And why’s that?”

“Why do ya’ even need to ask? You’re my human! You should be wearing my mark…” He grumbled under his breath, voice turning into a mutter towards the end.

“Well, I’m going to keep the pact marks hidden for now so that I get used to it. Also, I feel like I get too much attention when the pact marks are out on display.” You complained, mouth warping into a sulk as you remembered how the lesser demons almost broke their neck while trying to get a glimpse at your pact marks. Your eyebrows furrowed as you crossed your legs to sit down when it seemed that Mammon wasn’t going to get his butt off the floor.

“But-”

“No buts. This is my decision, Mammon.” You shushed him gently, pushing him down to lay on his back as you hovered over him, blocking the lights from the hallway out from his eyes. Once satisfied that he wasn’t going to argue, you laid down beside him as he instinctively spread out his arm to let you lay on it.

“Now shut up and just lay down with me for a minute.”

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Levi

First, he will start with his yucky otaku tantrum. He will just cautiously mention it once while you guys are gaming and then when you give an answer, he will go like, “ofc u don't want the mark of a yucky gross otaku” even though you are indulging in the same interest as him rn… like okay guess we are both yucky otakus tgt!

You know the word had gotten out that you had learnt to conceal your pact marks so you were pleasantly surprised that Levi hadn’t actually questioned you about it yet. It could be because of the fact that his pact mark was usually hidden so it’s not as obvious as the other demon brothers or honestly, you knew it was because he was too shy.

Thus, you had decided to wear a comfy pair of shorts today for your gaming session with Levi, the fabric shorter than what you would choose to opt for on a normal day of relaxation. You shrugged as you headed to the kitchen, maybe you were a sadist but you really wanted to see Levi’s reaction.

“Levi, I’m here,” You announced your presence while kicking the door open to his room, carrying snacks that you had gotten earlier. The back of Levi’s tousled head greeted you and you observed that he had already set down your usual blanket in your spot, though he seemed to be currently engrossed in his game.

An evil idea brewed in your head and immediately, you dropped the snacks you were carrying and snuck behind Levi to cover his eyes with your hands, “Guess who?” You leaned closer, nudging his headphones out of the way so you could blow hot air in his ear.

Levi sprung back with a loud shriek, hands flying up to grab at yours, which you reluctantly set down at his insistence. “Surprise?” You chuckled smugly and knelt down beside him to grab your own pair of headphones lying on the blanket. After wearing them, you sat back down not noticing the lack of silence from Levi as you continued chattering.

Having been struck speechless from your audacity, Levi was now too distracted by the flash of skin visible from your shorts riding up. He startled, noticing the smooth skin where his mark used to occupy, and felt the familiar glimmer of envy brewing in the pit of his stomach, clawing its way up and making itself home in the heart of his throat. He finally snapped out of his head when you paused in your speech, clearly waiting for an answer from him.

As you entertained yourself while setting up the multiplayer game that Levi had set out, you couldn’t help but notice the furrow in his eyebrows and his clenched fist around his controller. You shifted your weight from side to side, watching as his gaze followed the movement of your shorts.

Bingo.

“Do you like my shorts that much?” Your lips widened into a cheshire-like grin.

Levi almost puked out blood. Beads of sweat started making themselves apparent on his forehead as he scrambled for a defense; having mixed feelings at your accusation of him sounding like a pervert.

Was it really an wrongful accusation when he liked seeing your skin, just not without his mark on it?

“No, I mean yes! I was just staring because the mark is gone--" Ah… he definitely had just messed up. He just had to go and say it. He just had to go and say what he was thinking in his head. Levi slowly turned his attention, dragging his eyes up from your unblemished skin only to meet a broad smirk plastered on your face. The smile was so big and aggravating that he wanted to take his controller and throw it at your head.

“Why didn’t you continue?” The impish smirk on your face made Levi want to punt you into the next century so that he could peacefully crawl into a hole and die, “I wanted to hear you confess that you couldn’t keep your eyes away from my thigh too, Levi-chan.”

He thinks that he could probably die of embarrassment now. First, he professed that he liked your shorts, and now you probably think that he was some weirdo, wanting to see his mark on you, like some kind of branding cattle.

The sound of your laughter rang in his ears as he covered his face with his arms, dropping his controller to the ground. “Urgh, I hate you.” He said melodramatically, shoulders slumped even as you tried to tug his hands away from his face.

“Aw, baby. Don’t be sad, I won’t conceal the mark during our gaming session ‘kay?” You cooed, tone infuriatingly playful. Successful in your attempt to push his hands down, you peppered the Avatar of Envy with kisses and dragged him over so that you could properly embrace him.

Levi knew he was still red-faced so he buried his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your waist as you continued coddling him. “Don’t tease me like that again,” He muttered despondently, a frown staying on his face. A small laugh escaped as you replied with a half-hearted affirmation while ruffling his hair.

Honestly, he already knew that you wouldn’t hold up your end of your bargain but how could he possibly be angry when all of your attention is focused on him?

…Huh. Maybe he was a masochist, after all.

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a/n▸ here are my hcs on the placement of the pact marks:Luci - back of neck leading to your spine, because he wants u to THINK.Mammon - around ring finger on ur dominant hand bc u always use that hand to payLevi - around right thigh because his tail always curls there and it just feels special to himalso, im positive theres no mention of pact mark in the OG story so im very curious as to how this idea became so prevalent in the community

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me swd #shall we date om #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #levi obey me #obey me x you #obey me x reader #lucifer x you #mammon x you #levi x you #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #levi x reader #obey me mc

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aozui · 22 days ago

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YUJI had a baseball cap phase, you can’t convince me otherwise. alternatively: I MISS THE TRIO BADDDD :((

for the ones who wear claw clips: he’d be the type of boyfriend to put yours on the back strap, parading it around like he would an ‘I ❤️ MY GF’ tee (he has one of those too), and he wears his relationship on his sleeve. on his forehead, actually. he never shuts up about you.

“he’s like a walking billboard for her,” nobara scoffs, “you can’t be telling a curse ‘I’m gonna marry the shit out of my girl’, moron. especially not two seconds before blowing their brains out.”

itadori shrugged, “I am going to marry her.”

“that wasn’t my point, airhead! don’t you have any morals?” nobara yells from below as she hammers a nail into a disfigured blob—exorcizing it. last of many.

the trio were on yet another mission, a minor one. yuji had been texting you the whole ride there. megumi rolled his eyes so far back into his head you could see the whites, nobara fake-gagged a few times.

“stop being such a wet blanket, kugisaki.”

“..where’d you learn to say that?”

(they both look at megumi)

“what?” megumi’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. from that angle, he sort of looked like his dad. the one that stepped up I mean! not the other one.

“nothing.” (yuji, nobara, in unison)

safety makes you careless. they’ve gotten used to these back and forths on the walks back to the dorms. it makes their youth feel less abnormal; as much as either of them would hate to admit, they’re all each other has. it’s no surprise that they get defensive over him when it comes to you. it doesn’t help that you’re from jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.

itadori thinks of you a borderline unhealthy amount, and they can’t deny the expression he makes when he does. happy he’s happy. his phone buzzes in his hand,

yuji 7:88 AM: soooooooo tired

you 8:03 AM: mission? sorry slept in pretty late

yuji 10:11 AM: yeah 👎

yuji 12:00 PM: I miss you

yuji 12:00 PM: fushiguro keeps glaring at me LOL I think he’s jealous I’m texting you. or that I have someone to text at all aha

new message! you 1:55 PM: 😭 maybe he just doesn’t like.. me

he frowns at this. the other two are having a debate over dinner. or something. he’s not paying attention.

you 1:56 PM: how’d the mission go?

you 1:56 PM: [3 attachments] had a late lunch with miwa <3

itadori’s developed a habit of fiddling with your things when he misses you. he pulls at the hair ties you’ve lost on his wrist, touches whatever marks you left on him the last time he saw you in person. and of course, the clip.. that.. isn’t.. there? they must notice the panic on his face, because they stop talking, while he frantically pats himself down, swearing under his breath.

“did you lose something?” someone asks. he isn’t sure who. everything was starting to blur.

your name is in white gemmed cursive on the hair accessory—black, matching his current favorite cap.

yuji started to get sentimental when he realized how precious life is, how unfair it is that death doesn’t pick favorites. he figures that if you’re going to lose someone, at least remember them. and what better way to remember than holding onto something that belonged to them?

it might’ve been the weight of the day. it was probably just his head messing with him. the trauma from seeing so many lives get taken away in front of him. supposedly a flaw in mindset. an aftereffect of trauma. but he was losing his mind over a hairclip.

it was yours, and you trusted him with it. he can already hear the “it’s fine, I’ll just get a new one.” yet the guilt still gnaws at him from the inside.

“are you turning pale?” he’s almost sure it was nobara.

they were worried. the voices kept getting smaller and smaller—more concerned by the minute. by the time itadori realizes he’s having a panic attack, he’s in a different place: sat next to you in a hospital waiting room, claw clip in your right hand, left hand in his.

he recognizes it from somewhere, the hospital.

he feels like he’s been here before. he chooses to assume it’s the familiarity of having you around.

you notice him staring, and give him a disarming smile. yuji feels his entire body relax.

how can the sight of someone feel so good?

“they found it a block away from where fushiguro called the ambulance.” you lean on his shoulder as he runs circles on your palm with his thumb—watching the nurses and patients pass along. “he was worried about you. they both were.”

itadori’s quiet, so you keep going.

“I wouldn’t have been upset.”

“I know.”

“you do?”

he nods. “I just don’t like losing things.” and it feels like some kind of cursed metaphor for the things he leaves unsaid, the things he hasn’t healed from. it feels like a secret. both of you let the statement seep.

“you won’t lose me.”

yuji looks up at you, waiting for more.

“nobara told me you wanted to marry me. and to call her nobara from now on,” you laugh, “I think I’ve been accepted somehow.” he grins at that.

“I would’ve said yes.” “..yaga would’ve scolded me.”

“because we’re young?”

“because I’m a moron, apparently everyone thinks.”

“I don’t think so.” “well you’re different.”

you two sit there for awhile, talking about things that matter, things that don’t matter. normalcy—the sole thing he craves, he has with you.

“I’m never putting baseball cap on ever again.” he says, serious all of a sudden.

you pale. “let’s not say anything we don’t mean.”

the next week, he had a new one on, because you bought it. said it looked good on him. you’ve always had a way of giving itadori a new perspective, anyway. people may think your relationship is weird. that you’re a moron for choosing the moron. none of that matters, though. you’re his anchor, and he’s yours.

A/N excuse any typos and grammatical errors, haven’t been feeling like myself lately so this was just a 3am brainbaby </3 don’t love this & I might delete later, I’ll let it sit for now

masterlist

#there is a library in this dimension #jjk x reader #yuji x reader #yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori x you #yuji x you #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #jjk blurb #boyfriend yuji RAHHHH

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avis-writeshq · 11 months ago

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07 — wildest dreams

summary: “he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn warnings: rated 16+ for lots of kissing hehehe, reader wears a dress + makeup, a final ‘eff u!!’ to jeid LOL wc: 3.3k a/n: we have finally reached the end! thank you all so much for your support during this little project 😚💕 massive thank you to @astrophileous for beta-reading this entire project! congratulations again for finishing your thesis!! SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer yawns softly as he steps out of bed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. He finally got it cut a few days ago and, even though it’s a lot shorter than what he is used to, he really likes it. After putting on his shirt that has fallen haphazardly to the floor the previous night, he walks into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea.

He stirs the sugar with a spoon tiredly, his vision blurry from both the lack of sleep and the lack of glasses. The muscles of his thighs quiver with each step and he grimaces. Maybe he should start working out with Morgan. He dismisses the thought immediately. He still wants to live.

He’s about to go back into the room when a pair of arms wrap tightly around his middle, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “Hey, angel.”

You grunt out a noncommittal greeting, your forehead resting between his shoulderblades as you continue to hug him. “Why’d you go?”

“I was thirsty,” he responds, turning around to hug you back. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole and he glows with pride, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “What’re you doing up, darling?”

“You left,” you respond groggily, leaning into his touch. “Got cold.”

Spencer, as you have learned, is essentially a human furnace. He exudes so much warmth both figuratively and literally that you have saved probably hundreds of dollars in electricity bills. He is so unbelievably warm and he always gives the best hugs, wrapping his arms around your frame and tracing circles into your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the side of your face. “Go back to bed, angel. I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

You merely nod in response, reaching up and planting a firm kiss to his chin before padding back into your room, burying yourself under the covers. He arrives soon after, shuffling closer to you and pulling you in so that your nose is against his sternum. His fingers find the knots in your hair, skillfully and carefully untangling them. He feels you yawn as he continues his ministrations, and he presses yet another kiss to your head.

“You should move in,” you mumble against his chest, creeping a hand up under his shirt and brushing your nails against his spine.

He shudders at the contact, a quiet groan leaving his lips. “Yeah? You think I should move in?”

It is within moments like these where it becomes glaringly obvious that Spencer is no longer the naive ‘kid’ he was when he began working at the BAU. He’s grown into himself now, filling out his dress shirts better and wearing an easy smile on his face. Spencer has always been attractive, all of the girls who loved him before are a testament to that (no matter how bitter you are when coming to this realisation), but he’s now a lot more comfortable with it. He likes to say that you are a big part of that journey. You would simply tell him that the growth was his to make.

“You basically already live here,” you tell him. “It’s close to the train station and there’s that good Thai place across the road.”

“I’d love to move in with you,” he says softly, stroking your cheeks. He’s had an affinity for your cheeks since he first met you, poking at them teasingly and you would do the same in retaliation. Now, he can let his touches linger. “Really. I can get the rest of my things here by the end of the week.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

He smiles. “Exactly.”

You yawn again, your eyes squeezing closed so tightly that an unnecessary tear slips past the corner of your eye. Spencer wipes it away with his thumb before kissing your nose, relishing in the way you let out a breathless laugh.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

You beam at him, kissing him softly. “I love you.”

***

“And it’s like, if you don’t want to get yelled at, don’t come late to every single shift that you have, y’know?” You complain from your bedroom, pushing your lashes upwards with the side of your finger. You’re leaning over your new white vanity, forgoing the chair, as you try to keep your lashes up. “I mean, I get that this is her first time doing work experience, but come on she isn’t nine. And get this, babe, she doesn’t even have a phone. She’s seventeen years old doing work experience and she doesn’t have a phone. I have to remind her of her shifts through her mother. Do you know how awkward that is?”

Spencer hums as he does up his tie, coming up from behind you and and glancing at you for a moment. “She doesn’t sound like someone who wants to be doing work experience, angel.”

“I swear she’s only doing this because it’s compulsory at her high school,” you lament, turning around to face him. “And she is so rude. You should have heard what she said to Veronica, Walter, it was insane. Like, she swore in front of a client. In front of a child.”

His nose scrunches up at your words, resting his hands on your waist and stroking up and down with his thumbs, feeling your curves through the pretty dress you picked out. “You should fire her.”

“Legally I cannot,” you say with a huff. “But I’m pretty sure she’s going to quit or something. ‘Ronica will let me know, and honestly, good riddance.”

He laughs as he kisses your forehead. “I don’t doubt it, angel.”

You smile at him, no longer disgruntled from your frustrating coworker. “You look really good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“You look exquisite,” is his quick response, continuing to stroke up and down along your sides. He kisses you slowly, one hand moving to cup your neck and holding you there. “Is this a new dress?”

“Got it for forty bucks,” you say with a grin. “This boutique was having a sale downtown. Guess how much this used to be.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, kissing you again. “How much?”

“One hundred and twenty,” you say giddily as you straighten his tie. “That’s a steal, right? So I bought two more dresses the same price. That’s like, two free dresses, y’know? Girl maths.”

Spencer can’t help but smile as you tell him all about your shopping spree, his pointer finger dragging up and down your jaw. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you about the inaccuracies of whatever ‘girl maths’ is, instead choosing to nod along. “Yeah?”

You nod with a silly smile. “Yeah! And I figured that I might as well get JJ and Will’s wedding gift while I was out and I got these super cute wine glasses and–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingers delving into your once neat updo, and his mouth pressing firmly against yours. In seconds he has you sat on the seat of your vanity and he leans down to kiss you harder.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your lips, “so pretty.”

“You messed up my hair,” you scold half-heartedly, your fingers grazing against the collar of his shirt. “We’re gonna be late to the wedding.”

“It’s not our wedding,” he breathes, kissing you again and murmuring between them, “they’ll understand.”

You pull away, cheeks hot and lips swollen. “They’ll know.”

“Good.”

“Spencer!”

You arrive at Rossi’s mansion with five minutes to spare, guests already filing through the doors. From the corner of your eye, you spot Aaron and Emily speaking in one of the living rooms while JJ follows an older lady up the stairs holding a white dress in her arms. After placing the wedding gift on the table, you venture out into the garden where the tables are decorated with white lace tablecloths and the chairs have big satin ribbons on the backs of them. Cream and white roses are arranged elegantly on top of the tables and the fairy lights provide an even bigger sense of magic to the scene.

“The place looks amazing, David,” you praise, beaming at the older man. “Truly, it’s like something out of a fairytale.”

He chuckles as he holds a flute of champagne, gesturing to where Derek stands with Penelope. “I had some help. You’re taking care of yourself?”

“Of course,” you respond, waving to Derek who looks all too pleased to see you again. “It has been a really good couple of years.”

“You and Spencer have been together for, what, two and a half years?” He asks as he looks over to where Spencer is showing magic tricks to Henry.

“Sounds like a long time, huh?” You ask through a breathless laugh. “It’s been good.”

David smiles proudly at you, patting you on the shoulder. “I’m happy for the two of you. You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”

“I know,” you respond, grinning. “Thank you.”

“Let me know when the big day happens,” he says with a wink. “It’ll save you from renting a venue.”

You only laugh and shake your head as you move to where Spencer is, ruffling his hair as Henry giggles loudly. Spencer lets out a shout in protest, swatting your hands away lightly before holding them in his own, bringing his lips to the back of it.

“Having fun?” You ask them, grinning at Henry who nods excitedly.

“Uncle Spencer showed me a magic trick!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together.

“Oh is that right?”

Spencer offers you a sheepish smile, twirling a penny around his fingers. “Do you want to see?”

He doesn’t give you much room to accept or deny the offer, holding the penny in his hands and showing it to both you and Henry.

“Behold,” he announces, “a normal penny. But this penny can travel through the astrological planes and dimensions. Watch closely.”

He holds the penny up to your face before snapping his fingers and, lo and behold, the penny was out of sight. He shows both his hands, front and back, a boyish smile on his face. Henry claps at the display, squealing and brushing his long hair away from his face.

“Where’d it go?” Henry asks, pouting.

Spencer beams at the enthusiasm and holds his hands out again. “Ah, now that is the tricky part. For that, I need an assistant… angel, do you mind?”

He holds you by the waist with left hand, kissing your cheeks before holding his right hand in front of your face. Henry shrieks at the display of affection, covering his eyes exaggeratedly. You laugh out of embarrassment, swatting at Spencer’s arms and rolling your eyes.

“Stop torturing the poor child,” you scold lightly, wiping away his sloppy kisses.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he dismisses, before waggling his fingers. “Now, to find that penny…”

He reaches up behind your ear, pinching at something, before revealing the penny in his pinched fingers. He watches as your eyes widen with surprise, his cheeks pinkening in delight.

“How did you do that?” You ask, grabbing the penny from his hand and turning it over in your fingers.

“He’s magic,” Henry provides helpfully, clapping his hands. “Just like Auntie Penelope! When I tell her about something, it magically shows up at my house in a big brown box!”

You laugh, not having the heart to inform him that Penelope is not magic; simply very good at spoiling the people she cares about. She has taken you on more than a few shopping sprees in hopes of spoiling her little godson, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the cute clothes and toys in the department stores. Recently, she’s been scouting out jewellery stores, going on and on about how difficult it is to find gifts for people. You had offered a few recommendations of your own, gesturing to the pretty rings and necklaces out on display, but she only dismissed your suggestions.

“Auntie Penelope is basically a fairy godmother,” you tell Henry in explanation, chuckling. “Like in Cinderella.”

“I love Cinderella,” Henry says, his eyes lighting up. “Uncle Spencer read it to me! He said that the original story is about Ash-poo-tell.”

“Ashputtel,” Spencer explains to you, “the original story.”

“Ah,” you nod in remembrance, recalling the grim details of the story. You ruffle Henry’s hair. “You can hear that story when you’re older.”

The rest of the wedding goes without a hitch. Drinks are handed out by the ushers Rossi hired, along with cute little hors d'oeuvres. The ceremony in itself is perfection; JJ and Will sharing a kiss after saying their vows, and Henry being the ring bearer. Spencer holds your hand the entirety of the celebrations, brushing his thumb up and down the back of your left palm, carefully tracing each knuckle.

As JJ and Will take to the dance floor, more and more couples join in. Derek and a very drunk Penelope join in with loud giggles, and Beth drags Hotch into the circle by the wrists. Spencer rests his hands on your waist as the two of you stand at the sidelines, watching with amused grins as Penelope trips over her own feet.

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs into your ear, pulling you closer. “What do you say we get away from the crowd?”

You jump on the opportunity, already picking up your purse. “Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Walter Reid?”

He rolls his eyes at you, shooting a quick message to the team’s group chat to let them know that you were making an early leave. “Very funny.”

“No, no, I’m serious! Do you need to see a doctor? Like, a medical one?” You ask with jest as he opens up the car door for you.

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He asks, laughing, before getting into the driver’s seat of the car. “I just thought that we could go somewhere. It’s not too late and if we hurry, I think we could catch the sunset.”

You smile innocently as he puts the car into drive, heading off to who knows where. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Tell me again,” he prompts, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” comes his immediate response, squeezing at the flesh of your thighs through your dress. A street sign passes overhead as he drives, reading the word ‘Anacostia’.

“We’re going to the Bridge Park?” You ask curiously, peering out the window.

He hums in affirmation. “I heard it’s pretty this time of day. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice, but I don’t know when we’ll have a case next so I figured that this would be the perfect time.”

After parking the car and locking it, Spencer takes your hand as you walk through the park. It’s a very popular area in Anacostia, the entire neighbourhood holding old historic buildings that have been refurbished.

You relish the feeling of the breeze in your hair, your cheeks turning rosy as the temperature begins to drop. You made it just in time for the sunset as it paints the park in oranges and a soft lavender haze, your skin flushing gold from the lighting. You commit the image to memory as you stare at the view, your dress fluttering around your legs from the wind.

In your distraction, you miss the way Spencer’s hand drops from yours, and you search through your purse for your phone. You click open the photo app, putting it onto the selfie setting as you turn to him.

“Walter, let’s take a–”

The words die at your tongue upon the sight before you. Spencer, in his once neat suit and tie and all his germaphobic tendencies kneeling on the cold concrete, holding a velvet ring box in his hand. The box looks comically small in his palms as he looks up at you, his eyes glossed over and a tearful smile on his face.

“Hi, angel,” he says softly, his voice cracking at the last syllable.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you know exactly what is going on. Blood rushes to your ears and you sniffle. “Spencer, your pants–”

“I love you,” he says firmly, the box in his hands quivering as his hands shake. His palms are sweaty and he swallows the nerves down his throat. “I love you. I’m not– I’m not good with words or with expressing how I feel but I know one thing for certain: I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He chokes out a quiet laugh as you take a step closer to him, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “I had a speech prepared and everything,” he says, embracing the feel of your warm hands on his cheeks. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, crouching down so that you are eye level with him. “It’s okay, Walter.”

“No, I–” he swallows the lump in his throat and wets his bottom lip. “Love in the English dictionary covers a multitude of feelings. You can love doing something, or love a specific food, or love an object. In other languages, there are different words for different types of love and I think… I think that they got it right. There are a million untranslatable words that all mean love but I think the one that expresses how I feel about you would be the Chinese phrase ‘yuan fen’. It means that two people were… predestined to be together and I think– I know that we were meant to be.”

He sucks in a breath after his rant, smiling up at you. “Will you marry me?”

Tears slip from your eyes as you nod, pulling him up from the cold musty ground. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer exhales, his arms looping around your waist. His nose burrows into the side of your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your skin.

“Thank God,” he breathes, moving his head to kiss your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you respond, hugging him tight. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head as he fumbles with the velvet box, slipping the ring onto your left ring finger. “No. Never.”

Spencer brushes a strand of your hair away from your face before kissing you slowly, the light from the sun finally going down. As you pull away, the speakers overhead come to life with the announcer clearing his throat.

“Unfortunately, due to the predicted rain that will be coming shortly, the fireworks show will be rescheduled. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

You peer up at Spencer curiously who looked more than disappointed. “Fireworks show?”

“That was the plan,” he says with a small frown. “I’m sorry, angel.”

There’s a crash of thunder and before you know it, small droplets of water begin to fall from the sky. Spencer immediately covers your head with his jacket, pulling you over to the car.

“Wait, wait–” you laugh, resisting his efforts. “Walter, wait!”

“I’m not letting you get sick,” he scolds lightly, his curls sticking to his forehead from the rain.

You laugh again, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, we don’t have a pool but… rain works too, right?”

“You’re insane,” he says, his forehead pressed against yours. “You’re crazy.”

A teasing grin makes its way onto your face as you waggle your fingers in front of him. “Yeah, well, you’re marrying crazy.”

“No regrets,” he responds, before pressing his lips to yours.

In that moment, as he kisses you on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, you could have sworn that you felt sparks fly.

← previous part || series masterlist → || bonus !!

Thank you everyone once again for your support through this project! I have had so much fun writing it and I am so grateful for all the traction and love that it has received! With the help of this project, we have reached 2.1k followers! To celebrate, I have opened requests and you can find the event page here <3 thank you all once again and until next time !!

reblogs are always appreciated!

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poistura · 4 months ago

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HE WAS A PUNK, SHE DID BALLET

pairings. nonidol!hyungline x fem!reader in which. reader’s perfect and calm life has been completely turned upside down since she met her boyfriend wc. 1.5K warnings. enha are basically troublemakers lol, climbing a window in hee’s one, jake’s one is HEAVILY inspired by a gilmore girls episode, mentions of fights and bruises, not proofread genre. fluff ( link to masterlist )

author’s note wrote this while listening to sk8er boy by avril lavigne and i love her that’s it, jay’s one is a bit short i’m sorry 💔 also!! maknae line’s one is coming soon 🫧

𝐋. heeseung

you were seated at your desk in your room, so engrossed on studying your books, that the sound of tapping on the window almost made you flinch.

turning around to the place the sound came from, you see him. he smirks slyly, causing you to sigh and get up, opening the window “you know, you could’ve used the front door”, heeseung climbs in “i figured your parents wouldn’t be really pleased to see me” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“plus, this is way more charming than using the front door, is it?” that sentence made you chuckle “oh sure, prince charming. i really want to watch you climb down from my window now”. heeseung gulps “well, i’ll worry about it after i get to cuddle you, angel” he says with a smile before attacking your face with soft pecks, making you giggle.

it was really true that heeseung was soft and caring on the inside, but you seemed to make him melt way more often than he was used to, not like he was complaining about it anyways.

“what are you studying?” “biology” heeseung scoffs “you really have to spend your night studying something as dull as biology?” you roll your eyes playfully “at least i do study, i suggest you to try it, that would be good for you” he just simply shrugs playfully and pinches your waist, making you let out a soft giggle.

despite claiming that studying is the most monotonous thing you could ever do on a thursday night, heeseung finds himself sitting with you, listening to you revise the subject, but both of you know he’s not even paying attention to anything you’re saying, he doesn’t care at all. what he’s paying attention to, is the way your eyes look up while thinking of a term, the way your hands move to emphasize your speech and the soft hums you let out while thinking of the material you studied earlier.

actually, maybe heeseung was wrong, maybe this was the best way he could spend his thursday night.

𝐏. jongseong

you watched as your boyfriend played you his self-written songs on his guitar, feeling happy to be in his presence and to be the only girl who could have the pleasure to listen to those sweet songs he wrote for you. “what do you think?”, you smile softly “it’s really great; i love it”.

the faint blush on your boyfriend’s cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. “hey, can i try too?” you ask him and he looks at you surprised “the great violinist wants to play something as edgy as the electric guitar?” you roll your eyes playfully “worried i’ll be better than you?”.

jay grins and pats the empty space between his legs, handing you the guitar and guiding you through the notes “put your finger here, here and here” he says as he gently moves your fingers on the strings. your heartbeat started to quicken as he was impossibly close to you and touched your fingers delicately “give it a try, chopin” he teases as you try to play the new instrument.

after a few tries, you manage to let out a few neat notes from the instrument, eliciting a proud smile from your boyfriend “wow chopin”, you chuckle “jay, chopin is a pianist” “same thing”. you both let out a few giggles before he pecks your temple and smiles softly at you “if you learn how to play the guitar, i can’t surprise you with my serenades anymore”, you chuckle softly “well, i think my mom would be glad to not hear you play at 1am, but maybe i could serenade you too sometimes”.

jay smiles and softly pecks your lips “yea, i’d like some classical operas being played for me at 1am”

𝐒. jaeyun

you would’ve never thought to see your boyfriend all dolled up to take you to your highschool’s dance for a charity event. you insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, and you weren’t even enthusiastic about going to that dance, but your boyfriend insisted on being a good boyfriend (aka, showing you off to everyone) and decided it was important for you to attend since you were one of the top students at the school.

you arrived at the dance with jake, and calling it boring would be an understatement.

you two were sitting by a table, “jake we can leave if you’re not having fun” you said, as you knew your boyfriend wasn’t used to these boring formal events.

“don’t worry baby, i enjoy spending time with you nonetheless. plus, the food is great!” you let out a chuckle at his statement.

“i’ll go get us something to drink, how about that?” you smile at your boyfriend’s idea “alright, don’t take too long”.

he smiled before he got up and headed to get you something to drink. as you were waiting for him, a boy from your biology class approached you, teasing you like he always does.

“where’s your little boyfriend, uh? don’t tell me you came by yourself” he grins and you roll your eyes “getting me a drink, if you really want to know”. the boy looks slightly surprised at your statement “oh really? i bet he’s a punk, you could’ve said yes when i asked you to come with me, at least you would’ve been seen with someone relevant”.

just like clock work, your boyfriend arrived and wrapped an arm around your waist. the guy eyes him up and down “you must be the punk boyfriend”, jake grits his teeth and turns to you “is he bothering you, babe?” “pfft, she’s delighted by my presence”. jake raises an eyebrow and turns his gaze back to the boy “uh, really?”.

you were already preparing yourself as you knew your boyfriend, and you knew things would’ve escalated quickly. by the end of the night, you were sitting in jake’s car, treating the wounds and scars he got on his face after a not-so-friendly conversation with that boy.

“i’m sorry i got carried away”you give him a small smile “it’s alright, i’m glad you punched him. he’s annoying” “i figured you weren’t really delighted to talk to him”, you both let out a chuckle.

“hey, are you up for a frozen yogurt?” he asks, you reply with a huge smile “of course! but… maybe it’s better if you stay in the car and i go get them”. he lets out a chuckle “alright boss”

𝐏. sunghoon

“babe! what’s taking you so long?” you yell from your room, sunghoon is in the bathroom, getting ready for a dinner you insisted on having with your parents to prove them he’s perfectly fine for you. he was nervous, he probably hasn’t felt more nervous in his life, what if they ask him about his life? he can’t tell them how reckless he is, they would’ve never thought he could be perfect for you. he finally sighs before taking a last glance at the mirror “i’m coming!”.

the dinner was silent to say the least, your mother cleared her throat to escape from the awkward moment “so sunghoon, do you have any hobbies?”. sunghoon gulps “uhm… i like working out, you know, to keep myself healthy”, her mother hums, her expression unreadable.

in the meantime, you were crossing your fingers under the table, hoping the dinner would go smoothly and your parents would approve of him, considering how they’ve always considered you as a perfect child in every field.

your father asks the question both of you hoped he’d never ask, “do you study? or work?”. sunghoon starts sweating “i… i don’t work yet, sir. but, i’m looking for a job”. your father slightly scoffs and tears his gaze away from the boy, looking back at his plate and mumbling something under his breath.

the dinner luckily comes to an end, and neither you nor sunghoon were proud of how it went out.

he noticed your disappointed face, and before you two could leave and greet goodbye to your parents, he turned to them one last time “uhm… i’m sorry if i’m not exactly how you hoped i’d be, i know i might be far from the kind of person you wanted your daughter to be with, but i love her. i might not be the best and i might not provide her with everything she needs, but i love her and… and i’m here for her everytime she needs me. i want to support her in everything she does, even though i know i could never be enough for her”. his words made your heart melt, and your parents’ expression slightly shifted.

as you were getting ready to leave, your mother spoke up “we hope to see you again, sunghoon”, his eyes immediately lit up “i hope so too, mrs y/l/n. thank you”. your father gives him a nod of approval before you two left, hand in hand, and extremely proud of how the dinner turned out.

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mellowyellow236 · 1 month ago

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TWST Boys General HC’s!

Just some HCs for the TWST boys. No real theme to them or anything, and it’s mostly self-indulgent. Some characters will have much more than others, but I made sure everyone has at least one (You can clearly see what my favorite dorm and characters are lol-). Mostly fluff, but I’ll state before the headcanon if it’s angst, or if there’s a trigger warning, in red. Requests are open if anyone wants :) All writing under the cut!

Heartslabyul:

Riddle Rosehearts -

Gets very tense about things being dirty because he grew up in a really sterile environment with his mom. Sometimes, he gets worked up over something and cleans to calm down, it’s probably one of his healthier behaviors even if he has to work on not getting tense when it isn’t perfect.

His favorite sweets are obviously strawberry tarts, but in second place is red velvet cake or cupcakes. He likes the color and thinks it tastes like chocolate.

He likes trying all of the sweets Trey makes, and sometimes does taste tests like he’s judging them in a bake show. He lines them up, tries each of them, and thinks about what he likes and dislikes about each.

Also, he got a hedgehog plushie from Trey, and since his overblot, he has slept with it every night as a form of comfort.

Angst, Trigger Warning for EDs - Yeah, this one is pretty self-explanatory. Considering his devil of an almond mom and how thin he looks, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had one.

Trey Clover -

He’s a huge stress baker. He panics about the Prefect and Aduece duo being in trouble and suddenly the fridge is full of various baked goods.

All of the Heartslabyul first years call him dad, but only a few to his face. Those few are Ace and Deuce, who started it.

Trey loves trying out new recipes, and he wants to publish his own recipe book one day.

Cater Diamond -

Cater loves spicy food, which is canon, but my headcanon is that he makes his own spice blends to use on his food.

Cater and Trey used to have weekly cooking/baking nights when they were roommates. Cater would cook something, and then Trey would bake something. They’d eat together and watch a movie in their dorm room.

Angst - I subscribe to the theory that Cater was the housewarden before Riddle. Headcanon that now he thinks that Riddle’s overblot was his fault. Cater wasn’t able to help out his underclassmen when this started, since he was too weak to be able to win, and after he lost Riddle spiraled even harder down the road of a tyrant.

Ace Trapolla -

Ace genuinely loves the hedgehogs but hates taking care of them because he can’t say no to giving them treats, and then Riddle gets mad. He’s gotten much better at hiding it when he does, though. (Riddle’s just gotten better at not getting mad about)

He loves reading those really bad romance novels where you have to pause every few pages to figure out what just happened and why. He has a secret account he used to write fanfiction on but stopped after his brother found out and teased him over it.

Deuce Spade -

He calls his mom every day at the same time. He does not let anything stop him and Ace likes to stand next to him and make fake moaning sounds to annoy him.

Angst, trigger warning for recovering addiction - Deuce used to be a delinquent, and so he did some bad stuff. He’s currently recovering from some kind of addiction, although he’s doing much better now. He has weekly meetings with Riddle about it, who uses the knowledge his mother made him learn about it to help him. They bond over not wanting to disappoint their mothers and how they want to get good grades to make them proud, even if it’s healthy for Duece but unhealthy for Riddle.

Savanaclaw:

Leona Kingscholar -

His favorite place to nap is the botanical gardens because it’s warm and sunny, like a cat.

Back when they were kids, Falena/Farena(Eng. Vs Jap. name) used to braid his hair. They used to put in little beads and things for fun.

Agnst - When they were kids they were super close, but then Farena and Leona grew apart because Leona didn’t want to ‘hold his brother back’ after getting to know what everyone thought of him. Farena still calls him every week to try and talk, even back when Checka was a baby/toddler. Leona would never admit it but he listens to every voicemail that gets sent.

Ruggie Bucchi -

His favorite kind of donuts are the lemon-flavored ones. He likes that they're tangy and not as blindingly sweet. In second place is blueberry, and third is jelly-filled.

Ruggie had been pushed to babysit Checka for Leona, and they went to a fast food place together. Ruggie taught Checka how to dine and dash. (And then came back with Leona who paid for their meals)

Jack Howl -

He does a morning run every day and then has a big breakfast. He sees it as the most important meal of the day and never skips it, no matter what. He started doing it with the Prefect so that way he could make sure they were eating well/enough, and now all the first years meet up for breakfast on the weekends. Grim+Prefect bring tuna, Epel brings apple juice or pie, the ADuece Duo brings whatever Trey has left over, Sebek brings some fae dish made with normal ingredients so they can try it, Ortho brings various ingredients and Jack cooks whatever Ortho brings.

Octavinelle:

Azul Ashengrotto -

Angst, Trigger Warning for EDs - Azul has really bad eating disorder tendencies. Like, ‘Well, I had a singular chocolate so now I can’t eat dinner’ bad. He’s working on stopping it, but right now he can’t do much about it. However, the one thing that often works is Jade’s mushroom dishes. Jade started looking for them and told Azul that they were healthy, so now they’re his safe food. Floyd wishes it was anything else at this point, he's so sick of mushrooms, but he'll let Jade cook them for Azul even if Floyd doesn't touch them.

Jade Leech -

Jade doesn’t have a favorite mushroom because he feels like if he picks one that makes the others less special. He had one for like a week when he first came to NRC, but felt so guilty he stopped liking it more than the others. (It was Amanita phalloides/the death cap mushroom)

Floyd Leech -

Floyd thinks really hard about what nicknames to give people. He tries to get something that matches them, and who they are based on what he knows (Ex; Ace is often ‘crabby’, Kalim has a ‘fluffy’ personality like a sea otter, etc.) The exceptions are the Prefect and Riddle, who he just saw and went “Yeah. Shrimpy and Goldfishie. Shrimp posture and red hair. That’s what they are.” He doesn’t give nicknames to Azul and Jade because he believes that they’re both so interesting they could never be categorized as anything but their name.

Scarabia:

Kalim Al-Asim -

Kalim loves jewelry and wearing it. He often gives it as gifts to Jamil, and it’s why he has so many golden accessories all over. Kalim proves the gold, but Jamil is often the one who picks out the design.

Since Jamil’s overblot, Kalim’s started learning how to do stuff on his own. So far, he can (mostly) clean a window and (kind of) cook! Specifically, he’s learned how to cook pasta and add seasonings to soup. Not the best, but he’s trying.

Jamil Viper -

Jamil has so many snake things because of his last name and he hates it just because he's so sick of them at this point. He often trades gifts with Najma, so he ends up with a bunch of star-themed things as well. On his bedframe back home, he’s got little glowing star stickers.

Pomefiore:

Vil Schoenheit -

He used to buy up a bunch of these Neige necklaces that were super breakable, and whenever he got mad, he would throw them at the wall until he calmed down. Then he cleans up and thinks about what happened and how he feels. Although, it’s a surprisingly healthy way of getting his anger out, especially considering the more violent nature of throwing the necklaces.

Rook Hunt -

Rook has a ‘secret’ fanfiction account that he uses to write fanfics of Vil and Neige, sometimes together as friends and sometimes. Everything is oddly on point and both fandoms hotly debate what it means when he has a certain character bring up an event he never expanded upon and they never mentioned. His fics even have their fics written about them, including his “OCs” who are actually just his other classmates who aren’t as well known.

Epel Felmeir -

Epel secretly loves to bake but never did it pre-NRC because it wasn’t “manly enough” of a hobby. Now that Vil’s worried about excess sugar causing breakouts and stuff, though, he does it much more often out of spite. (Ironically, Vil thinks it’s great because Epel’s expressing himself naturally and not trying to conform to being manly or not)

Ignihyde:

Idia Shroud -

He likes to play the TWST version of the Sims and Stardew Valley and gets really into modding them. He likes to make characters of all of his favorite people and then talk to them. They’re hyper-realistic to how they act and look too, to the point where it’s either really creepy or romantic depending on how you look at it.

Ortho Shroud -

Angst - Ortho likes to listen to music and look at art because they’re the only things that he can’t automatically compute. He can do a math problem in seconds, but he’ll never be able to have the human ability to connect to art on an emotional level, so he consumes as much as he can in hopes of finding a way to experience it.

Diasonia:

Malleus Dracona -

He has a dragon horde, but instead of gold, which he already has a tone of and doesn’t care for, it’s full of grotesques, pictures of gargoyles, and various gifts from his friends and father. He tried to go to sleep on it back when he was little, but nearly crushed some stuff, so Lilia decided to knit him a big blanket to use instead. Later on, Silver and Sebek also pitched in, then the Prefect, and so now Malleus has a horde and a pile of snuggly things to sleep on.

Lilia Vanrouge -

He calls the prefect ‘beastie’, which I am unsure of if this is canon or not. It could just be a very popular headcanon I’ve seen.

I think it’s canon but not explicitly stated so I’ll state it as a headcanon; Lilia was in a polyamorous relationship with both Raverne and Meleanor. I ship it very hard and I need to say it.

Silver “Vanrouge” -

My main headcanon is that he listed Lilia as his father on all school documents. Not legal guardian, but father. He did tell Lilia, but Malleus saw and did the same thing afterward.

Sebek Zigvolt -

Sebek has a diary that he often writes in, and by often I mean almost every night. Surprisingly, most of it isn’t about Malleus, but rather his everyday life and school. He talks about his friends, and how classes are going, and even occasionally praises his various classmates for small things. It might seem out of character, but it’s just a place for him to vent the feelings that he has that he doesn’t want to talk about to others.

Ramshackle:

Grim -

Grim loves tuna, which is canon, but it’s not his actual favorite fish in terms of taste. It’s just that tuna was the only thing that the Prefect ever got for him ever since he first requested it because he was in the mood. The fact that they cared so much to get him his “favorite” after he requested it turned tuna into his favorite.

RSA+NBC:

Che’nya -

Che’nya always makes sure to take really good care of his teeth and is very proud of his smile. He thinks it makes him look adorable, and it does.

Neige Leblanche -

Neige loves sewing and knitting, he thinks that it’s so much fun to make cute things. He’s worn them out, and often posts about them online. He doesn’t have enough free time to make his own patterns, but he hopes to be able to get good enough to do so one day.

Neige likes acting, but he loves singing and dancing. He doesn’t get to do it as often because he mostly acts, but it’s his favorite thing to do. SDC was so much fun for him, he really wanted to get to perform and meet all of the performers from different schools.

Because Snow White’s voice is so high-pitched, I HC him as a tenor by nature, although he taught himself to sing much higher notes, maybe even those of a normal soprano. (A tenor is the higher, often male voice in most choirs and a soprano is the higher, often female voice- It’s a bad explanation but it basically means he’s got a higher vocal range/voice than some of the other characters when he sings.)

Bittersweet - Neige is just as much of a cinnamon roll offline as he is online. He donates a bunch to charity, and considering his backstory, I think that most of it goes to orphaned or helpless children like him, who don’t have an adult around to take care of them. He hopes to make sure that no children have to go into the workforce young like he did to support the dwarves and himself, even if he knows that it’s not realistic.

Angst - Neige never wanted to go into acting but had to because he was good at it and he couldn’t find any other well-paying jobs for children, so he could support himself and his seven friends. He loves his job, yes, but sometimes he wishes that he could’ve been a normal teen doing his school’s plays or community theater rather than worrying about having to stay on top of trends and stuff.

Rollo Flamme -

Already mentioned this in a previous post, but Rollo is an all-or-nothing kind of guy when it comes to crushes, but it’s a bit more than that. In almost everything, he puts either all of his time and energy into it or he just doesn’t care. Friendships, schoolwork, relationships, even little things like chores, he does it all or he doesn’t do it.

Other Event/Side Characters:

Checka Kingscholar -

Checka loves visiting his uncle, so much so that he spends at least a weekend at NRC a month. It’s his favorite part of the month, and he loves that Leona will give him treats and find some time to play with him. (Leona clears his entire schedule for the weekends Checka comes out even though he’d never admit it)

Najma Viper -

I think Kalim has a canonic cousin based on Jasmine, so I HC Najma as being her handmaiden. Kind of like Dalia to Jasmine in the live-action Aladin.

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snowysosturn · 2 months ago

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Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 17

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : (This is the longest chapter so far, 5.2k words, warnings will contain spoilers!!) MDNI, angst, fluff, tension, slight arguing, cheating (dont do this) smut, p in v (protected!), guilt, also not fully proof read ill do that when I wake up in the morning lol

After a few more moments of soaking in the thrill of the evening, it was time to leave the rink. The cold air had seeped through our clothes, and the exhilaration of skating had left us both pleasantly tired. As we slowly made our way to the edge of the rink, I couldn’t help but glance back at the ice one last time. It had been years since I felt so alive, so connected to something I loved, with someone who was becoming more special to me with every passing moment.

Matt reached the edge first, turning around to offer me his hand as I approached. I took it without hesitation, his warmth cutting through the chill in the air. We stepped off the ice and walked over to the benches to change out of our skates. As we sat down, the silence between us was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that tonight had been something special. I unlaced my skates, my fingers still tingling from the cold, and slipped back into my shoes. Matt did the same, occasionally glancing over at me with that easygoing smile that made my heart skip a beat.

Once we were both ready, we gathered our things and headed for the exit. The rink was eerily quiet now, the sound of our footsteps echoing softly through the empty space. As we reached the doors, Matt paused, as I turned to look at him with a playful glint in my eyes.

"Can I just say, I’m amazed with how good you are on the ice" I teased. "You’ve set the bar pretty high for our next hangout."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, so now there’s a bar I have to maintain? I see how it is."

I grinned, as Matt held the door open for me as we stepped out into the cool night air. "Well, you’ve definitely got me curious about what else you can do."

The parking lot was almost empty, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the cars. We walked toward his car, the night wrapping around us like a blanket.

As we reached his car, Matt opened the door for me, his hand lingering on the frame as he looked at me. For a moment, we just stood there, the unspoken connection between us stronger than ever. Then, with a soft smile, I slid into the passenger seat, and Matt closed the door behind me. He walked around to the driver’s side, and got in. As he started the engine, the car hummed to life, and we pulled out of the parking lot. The drive back was quieter than the drive there, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Instead, it was the kind of silence that felt full, heavy with the memories of the night and the growing connection between us. Every now and then, Matt would glance over at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

He finally broke the silence, his voice soft “I honestly think you should get back into skating Y/n."

I laughed, turning to face him. "No I can't, it's too late now, I’ve missed the opportunity."

"It’s never too late, and from what I witnessed earlier on you still have it, it comes so naturally to you." He replied, his tone sincere. "Even I felt like I learned a lot from you, maybe I’ll become a figure skater now. You know, give you a run for your money."

"Ha, I’d like to see that" I said, rolling my eyes but smiling. "But seriously, it was really fun. I haven’t felt that free in a long time."

"I’m glad" he said, his eyes flickering toward me briefly before focusing back on the road. "You deserve to feel like that more often."

We fell into another easy silence, the sound of the road beneath us and the faint hum of music playing softly in the background. The city lights blurred past, and I found myself lost in thought, the events of the night replaying in my mind.

Before I knew it, we were pulling up to my apartment building. Matt slowed the car to a stop in front, the engine idling softly. He turned to me, his expression softer, more thoughtful now.

"I really enjoyed tonight, Y/n" he said, his voice low. "It was.. special."

"Yeah, it was.." I agreed, my heart beating a little faster as I looked at him. There was something in the air between us, a tension that had been building all night. Part of me wanted to close the gap, to see what it would be like to kiss him, to let this connection go where it felt like it wanted to.

But before I could act on the thought, the car’s dashboard lit up with an incoming call. A serious sense of deja vu running through my body. Emily’s name flashed across the screen, and just like that, the moment shattered.

I blinked, the reality of everything crashing back into place. I knew I was breaking up with Alex, but to him, the relationship wasn’t over yet. He was clueless about what was coming, about what he had done to push me away, and the fact that I know what he’s done. As for Matt, things were different. He didn’t know about Emily’s betrayal, how she had basically ended their relationship with what she did with Alex.

Matt glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly. He ignored the call, but seconds later, it rang again, Emily’s name glaring at us from the dashboard. I took it as a sign, a reminder that whatever was happening between us, it wasn’t the right time. Not yet.

"I should go.." I said softly, unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

Matt looked at me, something unspoken passing between us, but he nodded. "Okay" he replied, his voice laced with disappointment. "Goodnight, Y/n.”

"Goodnight, Matt," I said, giving him a small smile before I opened the door and slid out of the car. I paused for a moment, looking back at him as he finally answered the phone. His voice was low, and I could hear the tension in his tone as he spoke to Emily.

I turned away, walking up the steps to my apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last. The night had been perfect, almost magical, but it ended on a note that brought me right back to reality. As I reached my door, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if things were different, if we were both free to explore whatever this was between us without the shadows of our current situations looming over us.

But for now, all I could do was disappear into the night, leaving Matt to deal with his own tangled mess as I tried to untangle mine.

Matt's POV

Standing outside Y/n’s door, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. I hadn’t planned on showing up unannounced, but after yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wanted to do something special, something that she loved, like skating. When she opened the door, I couldn’t help but smile at the surprise on her face.

“Hey, sorry for just appearing… Are you free for the night?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my heart was racing.

She stood there, clearly debating whether to mention something, maybe that she already had plans. But before she could respond, I knew I had ro say something else, I really wanted the plans I’d made to happen, “I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

I could see the curiosity spark in her eyes as she nodded. I felt a surge of relief. This was going to be good.

In the car, she kept asking where we were going, but I just grinned and told her my lips were sealed. When I mentioned it would be an hour's drive, she looked at me like I was crazy, but the way she smiled told me she didn’t mind. I suggested she jump on aux, and soon we were caught up in a back and forth of sharing songs. Each song she played gave me a glimpse into her world, her taste, and it felt like we were connecting on a level I hadn’t expected.

When she saw the sign for LA Kings Valley Ice Centre, the way her eyes lit up was worth every second of planning.

“We’re going skating?” she asked, clearly excited.

I nodded, feeling a bit proud of myself. “I was serious when I said I wanted to learn how to spin.”

Her excitement was contagious. “This is where I used to go to skate school,” she said, and I could hear the nostalgia in her voice. She kept thanking me, but honestly, seeing her this happy was thanks enough.

Renting the place wasn’t an issue to me, I wanted to make sure it was just us there. The look of surprise and gratitude on her face made me feel like I’d done something right. Something she needed.

We laced up our skates and hit the ice. I could tell she was expecting me to be a total mess out there, but when I glided smoothly beside her, she looked genuinely surprised.

“Woah, you can skate?” she asked.

“Played hockey for years” I replied with a grin, enjoying the way she looked at me, maybe seeing me in a different light.

She teased me about my skating skills, so naturally, we decided to race. We lined up at one end of the rink, and I couldn’t help but notice how she looked - confident, poised, and honestly, really attractive. We took off, laughing as we pushed ourselves to go faster. She won, of course, but it didn’t matter. The way she laughed as she reached the other end made me feel like I’d won something else entirely.

After the race, she finally started to teach me how to spin. I watched closely as she walked me through the steps, focusing on her movements, her voice. When I tried it myself, I was nervous, I wanted to impress her and honestly, I wasn’t half bad, but nothing compared to the way she moved. When she started doing her old moves, I was in awe. She still had it, the grace, the skill. It was mesmerizing to watch.

I couldn’t stop watching her, how she has so much potential with skating, how it looked like she’d never stopped doing it, I was in absolute awe. The connection between us grew with every moment we spent on that ice. I didn’t want the night to end, but eventually, we had to leave.

On the drive back, the atmosphere in the car was different, calmer, more intimate. We talked about the night, about how much fun it was, I really want to push her to skate again. I wished I could erase the day she ever stopped doing it because I can see what those few hours meant for her. I could feel the tension building again, like it had when we were at the rink. I kept glancing at her, wondering if she was feeling the same way I was.

As we pulled up to her apartment, I felt this urge to kiss her, to see if what I was feeling was real. We sat there for a moment, talking, and I could tell she was thinking about it too. But then my phone lit up with a call from Emily, and the moment was gone.

I cursed under my breath as I saw her name flash on the screen. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I ignored the call, hoping we could get back to where we were, but she called again. I could see the shift in Y/n, the way she pulled back slightly, the way reality crashed back down on both of us.

She opened the passenger door, giving me a small smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes, and said goodnight. I wanted to stop her, to tell her that this wasn’t the end of the night I wanted, but I couldn’t find the words.

I watched her disappear into her apartment, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders as I finally answered Emily’s call, her voice came through loud and clear.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you, Matt.”

I sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “I was driving, my phone wasn’t connected properly. Didn’t think it was safe to answer while I was on the road.”

“Driving where? You didn’t mention going anywhere tonight.”

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to get into the details with her. “Just out, needed some air.”

She huffed on the other end, clearly not satisfied with my vague response. “Have you been speaking to Y/n at all? Alex said she’s been really short with him, and he hasn’t heard from her in hours. He’s starting to lose it.”

I felt a twist in my gut. I wasn’t going to lie fully about being around Y/n this time, only hiding the parts I needed to. “Yeah, I talked to her. But why is he losing it? They’re still together, right?”

Emily scoffed, her tone laced with venom. “Barely. She treats him like shit, Matt. It’s no wonder he’s upset. She’s always so distant, like she couldn’t care less about him. And now, she’s ignoring him while he’s on the other side of the world? That’s just selfish.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling my patience wearing thin. “That’s not fair, Emily. You don’t know what’s going on between them. It seems Y/n’s been dealing with a lot lately, and maybe she just needs some space.”

Emily’s laugh was bitter. “Oh, come on, Matt. Don’t defend her. Alex deserves better than someone who barely gives him the time of day. I mean, look at how she’s acting now. It’s like she’s purposely pushing him away.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re wrong about her. Y/n isn’t the problem here. Alex has been distant for a while, and maybe she’s finally had enough. That doesn’t make her the bad guy.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost picture Emily’s surprise at my sudden defense of Y/n. “You’re really going to take her side?”

“It’s not about sides, Emily. It’s about understanding that there’s more to this than you know. Maybe if you spent less time shit talking Y/n and more time trying to actually help your friend, you’d see that.”

Her voice dropped to a cold, almost threatening tone. “You better be careful, Matt.”

I felt my frustration boiling over. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere, and I couldn’t stand the way Emily was twisting everything. “I think this call is over, Emily. I’m done with this.”

Before she could say anything else, I ended the call and threw my phone onto the passenger seat, feeling a wave of anger and guilt crashing over me. I couldn’t believe how Emily was acting, how blind she was to what was really happening. And the worst part was, I knew Y/n was suffering because of it.

I turned off the engine, unbuckling my seatbelt as I made a decision. I couldn’t let the night end like this. I had to do something, something I should’ve done a long time ago. Without another thought, I got out of the car and headed towards Y/n’s apartment.

I knew this was going to change everything, but at that moment, I didn’t care. It was time to set things right, no matter what the consequences were.

Y/n’s POV

As I walked up the steps to my apartment, my mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, emotions pulling me in every direction. The night had been perfect, well, almost. There was something so easy about being around Matt, something that made me forget the chaos my life had become. But as soon as Emily's name flashed on his dashboard, reality came crashing back.

I reached my door, sliding the key into the lock, and stepped inside. The familiar comfort of my apartment wrapped around me, but it did little to ease the storm in my head. I leaned against the door after closing it, trying to make sense of everything. The skating, the music, the laughter. It had felt like an escape, like we were in our own little world where nothing could touch us. But that world wasn't real.

Matt was still tied to Emily, and I was still stuck with the knowledge of Alex’s betrayal. The fact that Emily had basically cheated on Matt with Alex, and that Alex was oblivious, Matt was obvious. It didn’t make it any better. If anything, it made everything worse. Was I any better than them for feeling what I felt about Matt? For enjoying tonight as much as I did? The guilt crept in again. I was planning to break up with Alex, that much was certain. But did that make what I was feeling, what I was starting to want, any less wrong? Could I really justify it?

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away, but they clung to me like a shadow. Matt was different. He wasn’t like Alex. But Emily.. Emily had her claws in him, both of them it seems, and I couldn’t forget that. She might not deserve him, but that didn’t change the fact that they were still together.

A sudden knock on the door yanked me from my spiraling thoughts. My heart jumped into my throat as I turned towards the door, my pulse quickening. I hesitated for a moment, trying to pull myself together, before reaching for the handle.

As soon as the door swung open, I barely had time to register Matt standing there before he closed the distance between us. His hands cupped my face and his lips crashed against mine. It was like a dam had broken, all the tension and longing we’d both been holding back finally pouring out. I could feel the urgency in his touch, the desperation. I responded instinctively, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as we lost ourselves in the moment.

I felt the world around us disappear, nothing else mattered but this - Matt and me, finally giving in to what we both wanted. There was no hesitation, no second guessing. Everything felt right. His lips moved against mine with a perfect rhythm, and I could feel the heat between us growing, the connection we shared becoming more intense with each passing second.

As we continued to kiss, Matt’s hands slipped from my face down to my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the way his heart was racing just as fast as mine. It was intoxicating, the way we fit together, the way everything just clicked.

But even in the haze of the moment, there was a tenderness in the way he held me, a sense of care that made my heart swell. He wasn’t just kissing me - he was telling me something, something that went beyond words. And in that moment, I knew I felt the same way.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other’s. Matt’s eyes were searching mine, as if trying to find the words to say something, but he didn’t need to. I knew what he felt, and I felt it too.

“Matt..” I whispered, my voice shaky from the intensity of what had just happened.

He didn’t respond right away, just held me there, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time” he finally said, his voice low and full of emotion.

I smiled softly, feeling the truth in his words. “Me too” I admitted.

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other, letting the reality of what had just happened sink in. There were still so many things we needed to talk about, so many complications, but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that we were finally here, together, and everything else could wait.

Everything else melted away. The confusion, the guilt, the doubts - they all vanished in the intensity of that kiss. It was like every unspoken word, every suppressed feeling, was finally being released. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I could only feel. This was what I had been running from, what I had been trying to deny. But now that it was happening, now that Matt was kissing me like this, there was no going back. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to.

We stared into eachothers eyes again momentarily before closing the gap again, this time more intense than before, like we couldn’t get enough of each other. I began to walk backwards, pulling Matt along with me by his shirt.

I break away from him, grabbing his hand and turning to guide him to my shared bedroom. I push open the door and we rush straight in, both too consumed by the connection between us to speak a word.

Matt shuts the door behind him and latches his lips onto mine once more, his hands sliding down to my waist as I wrapped my arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and before I knew it, I was guiding him backwards towards the bed, my heart racing in anticipation. When we reached it, I pushed him gently down onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss.

I climbed onto his lap, straddling him as our lips continued to move together, the heat between us growing. Matt’s hands found their way to my back, holding me close as if he didn’t want to let go, and I felt a thrill run through me at the intensity of it all. The sensation of being so close to him, of feeling his heartbeat against mine, was overwhelming in the best possible way.

I could sense the restraint in Matt’s movements, the careful way he held me, as if he was trying to balance the passion with a deep sense of respect. It was a reminder of why I was drawn to him in the first place - his ability to make me feel safe and cherished, even in the most intense moments.

Eventually, we pulled apart slightly, I looked into Matt's eyes, seeing the same mix of vulnerability and hope that mirrored my own feelings.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, wanting to make sure we were both on the same page.

"This feels right." He whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

I nodded with a soft smile. "It does."

Before I knew it Matt had flipped me over, now laying with my back against the mattress. Foreplay wasn’t on the cards right now, with how bad we desperately wanted each other.

Matt stood up and unbuckled his belt, the metallic sound of the buckle was sharp in the quiet room, a reminder of how far we had already come, and how much further we could go.

I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, but all I saw was the same intensity that had been there all night, a mix of desire and something deeper, something that made my heart race even more. He paused for a moment, as if giving me the chance to stop, to say something, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I sat up, to capture his lips again, my hands resting on his shoulders as I felt the belt slide free. The kiss was softer this time, more deliberate, as if we were both savoring every second, every touch. The tension between us was electric, a current that I could feel in every inch of my body.

Matt's fingers traced up and down my thighs as he kissed me back. He hooked his fingers under my pants, pulling them down along with my underwear in one swift motion. I stared up at him with innocent eyes as he threw my pants on the floor and began to pull down his own, now standing in his boxers.

“Is this okay?” Matt asks, trying to make sure he had as much reassurance as possible.

“Of course.” I responded, trying to make him aware of how badly I wanted it.

“Do..do you have anything?” Matt mumbled.

Fuck I never thought this through.

“Uh.. yeah there should be some there in the top drawer”.

Knowing that Matt was about to pull out an unopened pack of condoms that belonged to Alex made my skin crawl. I knew they’d be unopened as our sex life died about a year ago.

Matt rummages around the top drawer and pulls out an open box of condoms. I don’t know what I’m more embarrassed by, the fact that Alex has most definitely been fucking someone else or the fact that Matt definitely thinks that they were being used for me.

“Are you ready?” Matt whispered.

I nodded as he pulled my legs apart, steadying himself at the edge of the bed while he pulled his underwear down, ripping the top of the condom wrapper with his teeth. He looked up at me once he was finished and our eyes met each other, locking into each other's gaze as he pushed into me. My back arched as I squeezed my eyes closed, opening my mouth from the feeling of Matt in me.

“Fffucck” I cried.

He leaned over and gave me a smug smile before kissing me again, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I could barely kiss him back as I couldn’t stop myself from moaning. He fit in me as if it was meant to be.

“You’re so perfect” Matt whispers to me while he starts to kiss my neck.

“Y-you feel soo goood Matt” I whimpered, my body buckling with the multiple sensations I was feeling.

Matt stands up straight again, still keeping his pace, thrusting into me as his hands grip my hips. I feel the loss of his touch on my left side, as he removes his hand and traces downard on my stomach until he reaches my clit. I feel my core start to clench as he swirls his thumb in circles on my sensitive bud.

“Does that feel nice?” Matt whispers, his full attention on me.

“S-so good, Mattt… I’m so close” I whimpered.

“You look so pretty, my girl.” Matt says breathless as he looks at me in complete admiration.

Matt picks up his pace in both areas ever so slightly, still making sure he’s gentle with me. “Fuck you’re so good Y/n, I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck I’m-” I whimper, clenching around his dick as I climax, my body shaking underneath him. Matt wrapped his arms around me and buried his head in my neck. His grunts filling my ears as his thrusts now become sloppy as he finishes. Both two sweaty mess’ fully engrossed in eachother.

I’ve never had this feeling before, finishing by the hands of a man, and I’m glad he was the one that finally could do it for me. I felt an insane amount of comfort with him, my body fully trusted him.

Matt pulled out of me and bent down to give me a slow, passionate kiss. Feeling more connected than ever. He pulls away and looks at me with a slight concerned but playful look to him.

“D-do you have any where I could put this?” Matt asks, pointing in the direction of the filled condom that’s still attached to him.

I giggled at the realization “Yeah, the ensuite is the door behind you.” Nodding in the direction of the door. Matt made his way to clean himself up in the bathroom while I slipped into something comfortable.

I walked back over to my bed and lay there staring up at the ceiling. I hear the bathroom door open as Matt reappears in the room, walking over to lay down beside me, my eyes still stuck on the ceiling. The room was filled with a quiet stillness, the only sound being our slowed, steady breathing. The warmth of Matt’s body was still close enough to feel, and everything seemed to fade into a soft haze. My mind was swimming with the events of the night, the weight of what had just happened slowly settling in.

I turned my head slightly to look at Matt. His eyes were half closed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically as he now stared at the ceiling. There was a calmness in his expression, but I could see the gears turning behind his eyes, just as they were in mine. We had crossed a line - one that we both knew couldn’t be uncrossed.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I didn’t want to break the silence, didn’t want to shatter the fragile bubble we were in. But as I lay there, the reality of everything began to creep back in - the complications, the uncertainties, the questions about what this meant for us, for our relationships.

Finally, Matt turned his head to face me, his eyes searching mine. I could see the same mix of emotions I was feeling reflected in his gaze - satisfaction, confusion, and a touch of concern.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I nodded, though the simple gesture felt inadequate to convey the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. “Yeah.. I’m okay,” I whispered back, my voice almost trembling.

He reached out, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face, and the tenderness in that small gesture made my chest tighten. “I’m glad” he murmured, his thumb grazing my cheek. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I don’t” I said quickly, more sure of that than anything else. “It’s just.. there’s so much to think about now.”

Matt sighed, rolling onto his back again and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, there is” he agreed. “But right now, I just want to focus on this, on us, and what we have in this moment. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

I nodded, feeling a small wave of relief wash over me. The idea of dealing with the fallout of this was daunting, but Matt’s words grounded me, reminding me that we didn’t have to have all the answers right now. We could take it one step at a time.

I shifted closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his warmth. The comfort of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, made it easier to push away the looming thoughts, at least for a little while.

In that quiet aftermath, with the weight of the night pressing down on us, I found a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Whatever came next, whatever challenges we’d have to face, I knew we’d face them together.

a/n : after 16 parts of tension building they finallllllly get together!!! let’s just see how things play out..

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#snowy speaks #speeding car #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

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locketsvault · 6 months ago

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「 CUDDLING WITH TOKYO GHOUL MEN 」

pairings: jūzō suzuya x reader ፥ ayato kirishima x reader ፥ renji yomo x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: angst in ayatos, mention of parents dying in ayatos, cursing in yomos

request: Heyy, can i please ask for cuddling headcannons with tokyo ghoul guys? (Juuzou, Ayato and Yomo) (request found here.)

a/n: I’m so happy to write for jūzō I love him sm. this request was very fun to do! I do warn later on, but I’m not too familiar with yomo though I did do my best! if you have any comments or ideas about cuddling these silly men, feel free to comment or send something through my inbox. I take anons too!

// jūzō suzuya⌇˚.༄

⮑ You’ve managed to get him to sit still long enough to cuddle? I’m impressed.

⮑ No really, he’s hard to cuddle because of how much energy he has, not to mention the fact he always wants to be out and about. Funnily enough, not to lean into the stereotype but I 100% see him being docile if you give him sweets and snacks lmao. As long as you feed him he will remain in your arms like a good boy.

⮑ That brings me to my next point actually, he’s mostly always a little spoon. On rare occasions he’ll be big spoon, but the problem is that he doesn’t… know how. He doesn’t know how to be big spoon, he doesn’t know how to be the one comforting physically. But he tries!!! And tbh he’s pretty good with it, even if he can be slightly awkward at first. He learns, especially if you willingly help him.

⮑ I think because of his personality and upbringing, most people assume he doesn’t understand affection. While I can agree, to a certain extent, he isn’t clueless, and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand all forms of affection. He does, and he learns well. Even if his ways of showing affection are not traditional lol.

⮑ He does not mind pda, he doesn’t get why people are uncomfortable. He loves you, and if he wants cuddles from you while working or going around the city, then he should get what he wants no? Plus, it’s not like he’s worried about his reputation.

⮑ A solid 8/10 in the cuddle department. if he sits still long enough and is willing, his cuddles are warmth. they’re home.

// ayato kirishima⌇˚.༄

⮑ He must really trust you if he’s cuddling with you willingly.

⮑ Hear me out okay. I know he’s not only the whole “bad boy” persona we all see. But it is a big part of him and how he thinks. Affection is weakness, and showing weakness is asking for death. Especially in the earlier days. The idea of being vulnerable even in the safety of his own home freaks him out.

⮑ I think for the longest time he wouldn’t entertain the idea. That is until he’s had a rough day, and suddenly he finds himself burying his face in your torso, holding you between his legs. You can’t move, you’re not allowed to. Not that you’d want to; because finally subjecting himself to affection has caused him to break down. Yep, your first time cuddling involves a very vulnerable and probably crying boy in your arms. He’s back to the age of his parents still being alive in that moment.

⮑ But! Once he’s finally given himself the taste of affection, especially from you, he can’t let it go. It’s still only in private though, he can’t bring himself to feel comfortable cuddling you in front of others. Honestly it’s probably not until after :re that he feels comfortable with pda.

⮑ His cuddles are rigid at first, he can’t get himself to relax. But over time he softens up. He loves cuddling you face to face, he loves admiring you. You may even find his eyes soft and adoring. His body runs extra hot so he’s perfect to sleep with in the winter. Oh, couch cuddles that consist of you being a personal weighted blanket are also always welcome.

⮑ I’ll give him a 6.5, he’s still figuring himself out but somehow his cuddles are still nice.

// renji yomo⌇˚.༄

⮑ Honestly he looks like someone who gives wonderful hugs.

⮑ Now you’ll have to forgive me, I don’t really know too much on yomo, though I did try to read up a little to refresh my mind.

⮑ If we’re talking about early days yomo, when he was a little shit (sorry yomo), I don’t really see him as a cuddly person. He’s too hot headed and violent, especially after losing his sister. But if we’re talking about Anteiku and beyond yomo, I could see him appreciating cuddles very much.

⮑ And I mean it too. I think physical affection is one of his main forms of affection right next to act of service. So he’s always down to cuddle you if you ask. You’ll usually have to initiate it though, unless you’re at home. He’ll open his arms for you and pull you close.

⮑ I can vividly picture this man allowing you to lay on his chest and probably fall asleep while reading a book peacefully. And he’s willing to stay that way for hours. It’s probably very soothing to him. Especially if the room is quiet and he can hear your heartbeat.

⮑ When it comes to pda, I don’t really think he’d do it. And if he did he never initiated it. he’s a man of few words, and is reserved. His actions can speak for himself yes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to. He doesn’t care if anyone comments on it though, and is probably both amused and annoyed at the gawking of someone curled into his side at the coffee shop lol.

⮑ 9/10 as well, as long as it isn’t early yomo, you’ve got yourself a wonderful protective cuddler.

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writingsfromhome · 3 months ago

Text

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———————————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #musician!harry #harry stylesxreader #harry styles one shot #one shot #soft spot for this fic #i loved writing how they fell separately

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