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thankspete · 2 years

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The Patio (c.h.)

soooo hey :-) i don’t think i’ve written fic in like 7 years but here we are. this’ll be a series so be on the lookout for updates! (read: eventual smut. i swear to u) lmk if yall like it <3

This work is a part of a series, When Our Friend Isn’t Around. Part 1: The Patio / Part 2: The Kitchen / Part 3: The Living Room / Part 4: The Guest Bedroom

Word Count: 1.8k Rating: T Summary: You were looking forward to a breath of fresh air, but you didn't expect it to turn out like this. | Also on Ao3! Warnings: ~recreational drug use~

It all started off innocently enough. Some solace from the bumping music that seemed to make the walls vibrate, all of the strangers that seemed to know each other well. Besides, you’d rolled a joint while Ashton scrambled to set up the sound system, place snacks, and whatever else he was doing for this exact moment, this exact feeling.

You escape out the side door in the kitchen, to the patio. It’s set up too, with twinkling lights and a couple of adirondack chairs just waiting to host your friend’s inebriated guests. The grill is covered, maybe to prevent someone from setting this place on fire in a drunken stupor, and the umbrella over the small table is closed tightly. The early autumn evening air was dry, approximately sixty degrees. There’s a slight breeze that tickles the sweat that has begun to bead on the back of your neck and the coolness feels refreshing. You can still hear the music, but the sound is muffled and you’re unable to make out what song is playing right now. You lean on the wooden railing and sigh contentedly before digging in your pocket for the doob tube and lighter. The tube was easy to find, its smooth plastic pressing into your thigh all evening, practically taunting you. You pat your other pockets down, hoping to God you’d remembered to bring a lighter outside. Empty. Shit.

You sigh and turn on your heel to re-enter the house, the chaos and anxiety, with a confident plan in mind. There are lighters in the drawer by the sink, you think. A Clipper, a Zippo, and two BBQ lighters, at least… It was just a matter of squeezing through the small crowd surrounding the drinks station, easy. You walk up to the sliding glass door, but it opens before you’re able to reach for the handle. A dirty guitar sound from a Nirvana song you’d heard before but couldn’t name leaked out into the quiet night.

“Hey,” Calum smiles at you warmly, but blocks your path inside. “What’re you doing out here alone?”

You smile sheepishly and motion the joint at him. “But I forgot a lighter.”

His grin widens at you while he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a tiny green Bic. “Seems like I got what you’re lookin’ for. Care if I join you?”

You nod and both return to the railing, leaning onto it. You use the lighter to pumpkin-top the end of your joint before lighting it. “So,” you breathe the smoke in deeply, holding for a moment in your lungs. “Ashton send you to find me? Make sure I’m not in a ditch somewhere?” You glance up at Calum before taking another hit and passing it to him. Despite your looking away, he keeps his gaze focused on your face even while he brings the joint to his lips.

“No.” Another hit.

You raise your eyebrows at him while he places the joint between your index and middle fingers.

“That shit tastes good. Is it dispo stuff or what?” He changes the topic.

“I roll with lavender,” you say, joint hanging off your lips. You almost think you see him glance down at your mouth when you say it. “Cuts the weed, but smells incredible,” you shrug.

He reaches to grab the joint straight from your mouth before taking another hit and putting it back where he found it. If you were sober, it’d probably been really annoying.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he turns to face you, lips curled into a small, playful smile.

“The fuck do you mean?” You laugh before inhaling once more, starting to feel that familiar, comfortable pressure behind your forehead.

Calum puts his right elbow on the railing, arm reaching in your direction. “What’re doing out here alone?”

“I told you already, Calum! And you so graciously provided me with a lighter. My hero.” You pretend to swoon and bring the jay back to your lips.

His lips press together and you try to ignore how soft they look. It must be the tequila talking. “I guess I meant the alone part. Having fun tonight?”

You pass the joint back to him and sigh. “It’s a little freaky I guess. I know like one and a half people here. Ashton and, well, I guess you’re the half, Calum.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling. “I would’ve guessed I would be three-fourths.” You’re glad he didn’t take it personally.

You had been friends with Ashton for five months and only ever really hung out with each other. You smoked, taught him how to skateboard, and watched shitty adult animation series together most of the time. You knew he had plenty of other friends, sure, but you weren’t expecting to have to meet all of them at once. All but one. He introduced you to Calum last week, when they decided they wanted to throw a rager. He was nice enough and certainly easy on the eyes, but making new friends always came hard to you.

“I mean, maybe now…” You grin and reach for the joint, nestled comfortably in his fingers.

“Keep it.” He glances at you, shooting a small grin in your direction before reaching into his jacket pocket. You’re puzzled until you see it, held carefully between his pointer and thumb: another joint.

It makes you a little giggly, thinking he was just as prepared as you were. Maybe making new friends isn’t so bad after all.

He raises his eyebrow at you after lighting the end, notably using your pumpkin-top method from earlier. You finish your jay at the same time he starts his. “What’s so funny?”

“You really had one ready in your pocket, then smoked mine and said nothing about it? I’m starting to think you didn’t come out here to see what I was up to at all, just coincidentally had the same plan as me.” You drop your finished joint over the railing and playfully nudge his boot with your shoe.

“Two things can be true at once, sweetheart.” He places the new joint between your lips and relights it as you pull. “No lavender in mine, though.”

You grumble your thanks before wrapping your mouth around the filter again, keeping an eye on how his fingers remained around the jay, practically feeding it to you.

You’re feeling it now, like really feeling it.

“So how’s your night going?”

He motions to the two empty chairs to the left of the sliding glass door. “Let’s sit.”

So you do, pulling your legs up and tucking your feet beneath you.

“It’s been good. Seen some guys I haven’t hung out with in a while.” He takes a hit. It’s not weird to watch him as he smokes, but God does it feel like something. “I’m technically supposed to be keeping an eye on Joey right now, broke some shit last time we threw a few months ago.” He takes another. “But I think Ashton’s got that handled right now.” He cocks a smile in your direction and reaches his hand, holding the joint, over the armrest of your chair. “D’you want?”

You didn’t mean to do it, not really, but your mind is foggy from the weed and your actions are more impulsive than you thought they could be at your level of drunk. You lean your head down to his hand, taking the joint in your mouth and brushing your lips against his fingers momentarily.

He’s a little perplexed, but he’s looking at you endearingly. “Need help with that?”

“Fuck you.” You shake your head and blow smoke in his direction.

“All you had to do was ask,” he laughs and brings the jay back to your lips. “Need me to tell you when to suck, too?”

Your stomach churned a bit at his choice of words and the tips of your ears started to heat up. Internally, you were fucking reeling, but you just rolled your eyes and took the hit without needing any further assistance. The ember is nearing the filter and the hot smoke burns your throat enough to elicit a small cough.

“I’m done.” You motion his hand away and lean back into your seat. “Thanks, Cal.” It was a slip of the tongue, something you’d heard Ashton call him. Do I know him like that?

“Thank you, for the company,” he counters. “And the lavender. Gotta try that shit.” He smiles at you before finishing the joint and flicking the remnants off the porch, into the darkness.

Calum looks at you for a moment before asking, “Did’ya wanna go back in?”

You instinctively obfuscate your face from his view with your arm and drop your eyes from his gaze before shaking your head.

“Didn’t think so.” He leans into the chair and when you peek at him from behind your sleeve, the fucker is grinning like you were setting up some joke for him. There was something behind the expression on his face that you couldn’t really place.

You couldn’t help it by this point, really. The two joints were settling well in your mind and maybe you really could place some blame on the shots you and Ashton took an hour ago.

He’s very pretty.

Calum tilts his head at you, suddenly making you self conscious of how long you’ve been looking at him. Time moves slow when you’re high, anyway. It seems like he’s expecting you to say something. You pull your arms down from your face, around your knees.

“Would you ever get a nose ring?”

And he laughs. Head tilted back, hand over stomach laugh. “Would you… ever get a nose ring?” He’s looking at you now and you wonder if this feeling in your gut is what he felt just a few moments ago, under your inspection.

“I–well… would you?” You shrug, a little annoyed that he didn’t seem to take the question seriously.

“Maybe.” He leans his elbow on the armrest closest to you, slotting his nail between his teeth. They’re painted black.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you say to him with the same tone he did to you earlier this evening. How long has it been? Fifteen minutes? An hour?

It’s his turn to shrug this time, sitting back and reinstating the space between you. “Depends.” You wish he’d wipe that amused look off his face, already.

“What if I did it?”

“What if you pierced my nose?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you like…is that your job?”

“I, uh…no. I’ve pierced my friends before.”

“Their noses?”

“Ears.”

Calum leans his forearms on the armrest again and you feel compelled to shift closer to him. You can tell this is fun for him. You can’t tell if it’s fun for you, yet.

He cracks a toothy smile. “I’m just not sure the anatomy is comparable.”

The sliding door opens with a soft whoosh behind you and a familiar voice calls out to you both. A Still Woozy song is playing this time.

“What’re you guys doing out here? Shit, did you smoke without me!?”

hope u enjoyed this lil thang! next part (or the part after) will be spicy. i promise <3 as always i appreciate feedback likes n reblogs!

#calum hood x reader #calum hood oneshot #calum hood imagine #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #i think theyre flirting but idk what that is or looks like so #i feel like im 15 again

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deerwith2heads · 1 year

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10.5.23

all I wanna do is dance!!! hi i cried three times today in my film class because the movie was sad and then my bible verse of the day app told me to "rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, [and to] be constant in prayer." (romans 12:12 I think?) so.... I got off of my lazy ass and starting rejoicing and then i became PRODUCTIVE!!!!!!! okkkk so I taught my boyfriend to play the game of life during lunch, i gossiped in 6th period and then I applied to college 4 hours during rehearsal when bored. I also have an interview for a rly good college tmrw so somebody remind me to do good on it. I planned a date with my bf and we are gonna make strawberry shortcake for his family!!! I am super excited because I luv strawbs and I rly rly want his family to like me. he says they love me but I find them super hard to read and he has heavy bias (not like I don't). I also tried the new pumpkin decadent bars they have at publix and omg they taste gross on the first bite and it just gets better n better. when my dad picked me up from school we had to go to my work (grocery) and my coworker (one I've only seen and have never spoken to...grocery stores are big ok...) was flirting with me about how he hasn't seen me around lately??????? he looks like the boy from american beauty which is cool ig but it was gross bc i have a bf i am very much in love with. also i am not proofreading before i post this so i apologize if it sucks. lmk.

that's a photo of the american beauty teen characters for ref if you haven't seen it. it's my fave movie of all time tho so you should watch it anyways

xxx - love ya

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cosmicstarlatte · 10 months

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(Rip Lucifer 👀)

These damn events come in left and right ughhhh I'm dyingggg. I just want Mammonnnn 😭

That's fair! It's a big game. Childe, Itto and Neuvilette are so fine 🥴🥴 it's a true addiction. But def lmk!!

I had sooo much. Turkey, stuffing, Rice w gandules (type of bean/pea iirc) potato salad, sweet potatoes, baked Mac, biscuits and pumpkin pieee!! WBU?? We just ate bc I worked the day after.

Omg! That's great I'm so glad you got it!! That's great honestly I hope it treats you well! As for requestssss idk Mammon 🥺 I love him sm.

-Angsty Anon

Ngl I've been so far behind in NBs story mode 💀

oh man that all sounds so delicious I'm glad you got some bomb ass food !! Especially arroz con gandules!?!?! YESSSSSS!!! Ugh and baked MAC!?

I just had steak, stuffing, and mashed potatoes 💀 (just me and my partner you see) but I'm hoping to make some pernil, arroz con gandules, and potato salad soon! 😩 I had to work at midnight that day so I wanted to spend it relaxing before going in for black Friday. 😭

Yeah I've been enjoying it so far, still getting use to some of the settings and stuff, it's been years since I've owned an apple product, ack.

Sure, one mammon coming up! I'm gonna post it right after this! >:3

#✩ — the star: angsty anon!

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violescent-scrolls · 2 years

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Calling The Haikyuu Boys ‘Dude/Bro’

Pairings: Sakusa x Reader, Oikawa x Reader, Kenma x reader (reader is gender neutral in all three!)

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of insecurities in Kenma’s but honestly this is mostly just straight up fluff, attempt at humor

A/N: AHH this is my first time writing for most of these characters (I’ve only written for Sakusa once before) so I hope they’re not OOC. These were fun so if you’d like to see these for a particular haikyuu character lmk and I’ll try my hand at writing for them

Kiyoomi Sakusa

This man will not hesitate to shut this down immediately.

Scoffs and grimaces in disgust at your words.

Literally acts as if you sneezed on him or something smh.

Will ask you not to call him that ‘cause he’s your boyfriend, not your *gags and shudders* bro.

Will get very blushy and flustered if you tease him about it.

“Bro, you’ll never believe what I just found!” you exclaimed as you rushed over to your boyfriend, Kiyoomi, who was pushing along the grocery cart as he diligently followed you around, occasionally stopping to pick up items that piqued his interest. You were carrying a handful of disinfectant wipes with a proud look on your face. “They’ve got a buy one get one free offer for the lemon-scented wipes you like so much. What a steal, right? We’re almost out of them at home so I think we should stock up while we’ve got the chance. There were more but I couldn’t really carry them all by myself so I figured we could go back together.”

You were shocked to find your boyfriend scowling. You were so sure he’d be even more thrilled than you were, considering how fast he went through his cleaning supplies. You were even more shocked when he lifted his hand to flick your forehead, not nearly hard enough to hurt, but enough for you to let out an indignant ‘Hey! What was that for?!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m your boyfriend, not your bro.” He damn near whined out. “How would you like it if I called you bro?”

Instead of answering his question, you took this as an opportunity to tease your usually oh-so-stoic-and-unbothered boyfriend.

“Awww, Omi” you gushed, “your wish is my command. What would you prefer I call you? Love? Honey? What about dear? Oh, I know! Sweetie pie! Or how about pumpkin? Perhaps even my beloved?”

The more embarrassing nicknames you suggested, the more flustered your Omi got. While the bottom half of his face was covered, you could clearly see the tips of his ears turn an adorable shade of pink.

“You’re intolerable.” He groaned out, readjusting his mask in an attempt to hide his red face.

He pushed the cart leaving you in the frozen food aisle with about 12 disinfectant wipe containers clutched in your hands.

“Omi! Love! Wait for me! I don’t wanna carry these anymore, they’re so heavy,” you whined out.

“Should have thought about that before being such a brat, babe,” he shouted with a smirk, though he slowed down so you could catch up to him at the end of the aisle, his chest feeling all warm and fuzzy.

Toru Oikawa

Please, he is so dramatic.

Will go all out on the theatrics. Waterworks, whines, the works.

By the end of the interaction you’ll be so done with him you’ll regret your slip up.

One thing’s for sure, you’re never calling him dude or bro ever again.

He’s so embarrassing but you love him so…

You were at the mall doing some window shopping with your boyfriend, Toru, when all of a sudden something caught your eye.

“Bro, look at that shirt and pants combo. Pretty cute, right? Maybe I could wear it next time we go out with our old classmates. I wonder if they have my-”

You were quickly interrupted by Oikawa who let out a gasp loud enough to catch the attention of several people walking by. He held his right arm up to his chest, placing his hand where his heart is located, and looked away from you woefully. Drama queen.

“Dude, what the fuck?” you asked, feeling embarrassed by all the stares. You tried to get him to stop calling so much attention to the pair of you by dragging him along but he only huffed at you.

“Y/N-chan!” Oikawa whined out, “Don’t call me those names. They’re so unromantic. I’m your boyfriend, not some ‘dude’. People will think we’re not together.”

“People will have a real reason to think that if you don’t stop causing a scene,” you warned, crossing your arms. Though both of you knew your threat was as empty as threats could get, you really did want him to shut up so people would stop staring and giggling.

“Don’t say that! You’re always so mean to me, the man you love,” he sniffed, finally looking at you. “There are so many other things you could call me.”

“Like what?” you asked, “Shittykawa?”

Toru let out a scandalized gasp. “Y/N! You’re being so mean to your boyfriend. You’ve been spending too much time with Iwa-chan. He’s such a bad influence.”

He was being so loud right now you could feel the burning stares of everyone around you.

“Toru! You’re being embarrassing right now,” you hissed. You weren’t really mad at him, more so mildly irritated by his childish behavior. After all, you loved your boyfriend very much, theatrics and all.

Toru finally let you drag him to the shop that had caught your eye, but only when you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

For the rest of your visit to the mall, Oikawa kept proposing nicknames you could use for him instead of ‘dude’ or ‘bro’, each one more ridiculous than the last.

“How about… love? My one and only setter? Wait! I’ve got the perfect one. Snookums.”

Kenma Kozume

His reaction would be the most subdued of them all.

That’s not to say the nickname wouldn’t bother him, rather he would let the interaction stew in his brain over hours as he agonized over what you called him.

It won’t be until later when you’re both at home that he tentatively brings up the subject, quietly asking you not to call him that again.

Will probably act like it's not a big deal and it doesn’t bother him but it really does.

He’s literally everything, please reassure him and give him cuddles and call him cute nicknames.

This was one of those rare occasions when the two of you (mainly Kenma) willingly went out to the mall. A part of his computer’s cooling system had been giving him problems and he had a 24-hour charity stream in two days and he really couldn’t afford to have his computer failing him halfway through. Usually, he’d order these things online but with such short notice and his preferred company for buying these sorts of things being overseas, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get the computer fixed in time. So, with a lack of enthusiasm and you there for moral support, he left the comfort of your shared apartment in search of the nearest reliable electronics shop.

It really wasn’t so bad. It was a Monday morning so there weren’t many people there. He’d been recognized by one or two people but they’d been nice enough, simply saying hi and leaving them be.

While he looked at different pieces, looking for the right one, you’d wandered off to look at the videogames area.

“Dude! Look what they have,” you exclaimed, shoving the slim box with the words ‘Pokémon Legends: Acerus’.

He smiled at your excitement, looking at you fondly as you continued to ramble enthusiastically about the game.

“Bro, I’ve been dying to play this game for ages. I heard the gameplay is totally different from that of the other games. A streamer I was watching the other day said she loved it and she’s got similar tastes to you so I think you’d enjoy it too. Do you think we buy two copies or just share one? You know what, I think we should just get two ‘cause I heard it was kind of addictive and you know how we both get when it comes to video games.”

Kenma nodded in agreement telling you to grab another one and meet him back here so the two of you could pay. He had the computer part he wanted in his hands thanks to an employee who’d been kind enough to notice he was having trouble finding what he wanted, despite Kenma feeling too anxious to request his assistance.

“Woah, your friend’s pretty passionate about videogames, huh? That’s really cute,” the employee commented, something akin to interest shining in his eyes.

Kenma’s skin pricked uncomfortably. Why on Earth would that employee say that? To your boyfriend, no less. The way the guy said that didn’t really sound platonic. Did he- did he think you were single?

All of a sudden, it hit him. You’d called him ‘bro’ and ‘dude’. Those weren’t exactly terms of endearment. To the employee, you probably looked like you were just friends.

You came back with two copies of the game and Kenma quickly dragged you to the cash register before the man could start a conversation with you.

You were worried about how quiet Kenma was on the ride home. Kenma was a quiet person, sure, but when it came to you conversation would flow naturally. Something was obviously bothering the poor man but after dating him for so long and being friends for even longer, you knew better than to pry. He’d tell you what was bothering him when he was ready and any attempts to get him to talk about it before he was ready would only make him act distant.

And you were right, of course. A few hours later you were sitting on the couch of his streaming room, playing the game you had just bought on your switch while Kenma fiddled with his newly repaired PC.

“Hey, Y/N?” Kenma quietly called out to you after a while, voice tentative.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You asked, saving your progress and putting away the consol so you could give him your undivided attention.

“In the future, could you maybe not call me dude or bro?” he asked in a faux nonchalant tone.

Being his long-term significant other, you immediately saw through him.

“Yeah of course. Can I ask why?” you watched as he messed with his setup, lowering his head so that his hair shielded away most of his face from your view.

“It’s nothing,” Kenma mumbled. You could tell he was trying to find the right words, however, so you patiently waited for him to continue. “It's just that… people might think we’re not together if you call me that and I don’t think I like that. Actually, I know I don’t.”

Upon hearing your boyfriend’s words, you were quick to rush over to him and sit on his lap with your face just a few inches away from his.

“Of course, Kenken! I’m so sorry, I honestly didn’t even notice that I called you that. I was so caught up in the game. I’ll never call you that again, though, I promise,” You reassured, kissing the tip of his nose and cuddling up to him in the way you knew he liked.

The rest of the day was spent in a similar manner, with you showering Kenma with affirmations and love and Kenma looking at you with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration

#sakusa x reader #oikawa x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fanfiction

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class1aplace · 2 years

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What I think Danganronpa V3 characters would be allergic to and what kind of sneeze they would have

All of the stuff below is my HCs, so you don’t have to agree. Only doing some characters

Shuichi: Dust. The man’s your average anime protagonist, did you really expect anything else? Also has the typical “ah-choo” sneeze. Uses his elbow/sleeve to cover it

Kaede: I don’t think she’d be allergic to anything TBH. She just doesn’t seem like a person who has allergies. Soft “ah-choo” but still stereotypical. Uses a handkerchief

Kaito: Mold/Musty smells. The guy will just refuse to enter a room that smells like that. And he doesn’t have to, he’s got his sidekick Shuichi to do that! Loud and frightening sneeze. Made Shuichi and Maki jump the first time they heard it. Covers with the back of his wrist or his hand (I hope you’re washing your hands after that Kaito, cause if not)

Kee-bo: Nothing??? He wasn’t programmed for this action/sensitivity. Also, does he have smell receptors? Like, does his nose work?

Miu: Pollen. You dare bring flowers into her lab, she won’t hesitate to slip some kind of revenge invention in your room that night. Loud sneeze, but not as loud as Kaito’s. Doesn’t cover her mouth. Sneezes over her shoulder, so be careful not to stand behind her

Maki: Paint fumes? Like the smell of when you just paint a room and all you can smell is paint. Walked into Angie’s lab and walked right back out. Silent sneeze. She’s the Ultimate Assassin after all! Holds her breath or uses her wrist

Kokichi: Perfume/Body sprays. You know those kids who spray the ‘Pumpkin spice latte’ body spray in the locker rooms to make it not smell so much like sweat? Miu tried that and convinced Gonta to use it in the boy’s locker room because then he’d “be one step closer to being a true gentleman”. Yeah, Kokichi basically had to be taken out of the room by Shuichi and Kirumi did a whole scrub of the locker room to get the smell out. Has an oddly cute kitten sneeze that Kaito, Tenko, Himiko, and Miu never let him live it down. Doesn’t cover his sneeze. Weather that is on purpose or not nobody knows, but his head jerks forward enough that he basically is facing the ground

Angie: None. Her working with all of the strong smelling paints and art supplies kinda made her immune to the stuff around TAFGJ (The Academy for Gifted Juveniles). Is always the one to say ‘bless you’, but she says “Atua blesses you”. It was very funny to hear her say it after Kokichi’s locker-room-perfume experience.

That’s all I have for now! I tried to do stuff that would be found in the DrV3 Campus, but if you want any others, lmk!

#danganronpa #kaede akamatsu #killing harmony #danganronpa v3 #drv3 shuichi #drv3 kokichi #kokichi headcanons #danganronpa headcanons #kaito momota #angie yonaga #Kee-bo #miu iruma #k1 b0 #maki harukawa #Sneeze #HC #headcanon #drv3 killing harmony #drv3 headcanons

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lonslibrary · 3 years

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3 moments between the crow couples during their time at hogwarts

1. an unknown part of wylan and jesper’s somewhat disastrous amortentia story comes moments after jesper pulled wylan in for a kiss by his tie, causing the rest of their classmates to erupt in cheers and applause so loud that professor snape’s “boys! in the hall, now!” went unheard. minutes later, when they had actually been led out of the classroom to wait for their punishment, wylan finally worked up the courage to meet jesper’s eyes, his face almost as red as his hair. jesper’s grin was radiant. “so. butterbeer and my cologne, huh?”

it took all of wylan’s nerve to not sink into the ground where he stood. “i didn’t know today’s lesson was on amortentia,” he muttered, feeling himself flush again.

it took all of jesper’s will not to kiss the younger again right there where he stood with the way the redhead was looking up at him from beneath his long lashes.

“well, what about you?” wylan demanded, rolling his eyes. “let me guess. cards, pumpkin juice, and galleons?”

“no, actually.” jesper replied, spinning his wand in his hand. “i smell grass. gunpowder. and...”

he took a step closer to wylan who stood still, holding his breath. “...and?” the third year asked quietly.

“exploding elixir.”

wylan’s mind shut down.

“the entire room was filled with the same smell from that day we singed snape’s hair,” jesper snorted. “of all things, we had to mess up the potion that smelled like burnt-”

it was wylan who pulled jesper down this time, reaching up on his tippy toes to meet jesper’s soft lips, the ones that had captivated him from the moment he had walked into the potions classroom and saw his new lab partner for the first time.

“fahey, van eck!” snape burst into the hallway. “does it seem possible to keep your hands off of each other?”

“sorry, prof.” jesper winked, eyes still trained on wylan’s mouth. “guess you can say we’ve got...chemistry.”

wylan couldn’t even bring himself to care about detention.

2. nina stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face as she watched matthias scan the inside of zonko’s joke shop. she had just gotten matthias to admit that he enjoyed a drink as sweet as butterbeer, hours earlier at the three broomsticks. “you look like you’re inside the shrieking shack, not a joke shop.” nina snickered at the way matthias perked up.

“whatever the shrieking shack is, i think that there’d be more dignity in such a place than...this.” matthias dropped a dungbomb he had picked up like it had personally offended his grandmother.

“why?” nina giggled. she shook the box in her hand. “not a fan of ton-tongue toffees?”

matthias made a face that looked like he was more than just not a fan. “if it’s anything like those jelly beans you fed me on the train, then no.”

that only made nina laugh harder. “i swear you picked the worst ones! you should’ve seen your face when you tried the rotten egg flavor.”

matthias cracked a smile, relaxing a little amongst the colorful store and his girlfriend’s laughter. he picked up another product, a pink bottle corked at the top. “what does this one do?”

nina lowered her voice, gesturing for matthias to come closer, as if letting him in on a secret. “that one’s a love potion. one drop of it in someone’s drink and they’re yours,” she whispered. “they’ll think about you all day.”

matthias jerked away, putting the bottle back on the shelf. “you can’t be serious. love can’t be made like that!” he sputtered.

“i don’t know, durmstrang,” nina teased. “what if i bought one and slipped some in your pumpkin juice tomorrow at breakfast?”

matthias only crossed his arms, continuing to grimace. “well, that wouldn’t work at all.”

“why not? zonko’s is pretty reliable when it comes to their products.” she said pointedly, looking at the extendable ears on sale.

“because i’m already in love with you.” matthias stated simply.

nina froze, turning to her boyfriend. during her time dating matthias, the hufflepuff had proven to be narrow minded and straightforward as a broom doing any and every thing. it was moments like these she was reminded that this included during his expressions of affection, and nina couldn’t love him more for it.

“i’m in love with you, too.” she declared, slipping her hand into her boyfriend’s. she had always liked...brooms. “now, come on. i want to see if we can get kaz to fall for a trick wand.”

3. all inej had wanted was a quiet place to study that wasn’t the library. she liked to practice with her wand for transfiguration, and magic wasn’t allowed in the library. she had been wandering the school for an empty classroom or quiet corner when the room of requirement had appeared at the end of a hallway, exactly moments before she was about to give up and return to the gryffindor common room. she was only half surprised when she opened the door and saw kaz, but like always, kaz hadn’t seemed surprised at all when she entered. he sat on top of a desk with his cane leaned against it, wand out, in the middle of a silent spell. inej let her eyes trail over his robe perched on a chair, his gloves off and set aside in a rare moment, and his uniform sleeves pulled up to his elbows.

“first time here?” kaz asked, not looking up from the book in his lap. his rough voice echoed slightly in the large room as inej scanned her surroundings. the room was empty besides a couple of desks and chairs in one corner, a cluttered pile of objects in another, and a big wardrobe that looked ages old. a fireplace on the wall kept the room warm, and a small chandelier hung above inej’s head.

“guess i didn’t require much until now.” inej shrugged, pulling a desk and chair of her own towards the center of the room. “you?”

kaz closed his book, finally looking up at inej. “i come and go when i want.”

inej wanted to know more about what had revealed the room to kaz in the first place, but she redirected the question away from kaz himself, knowing it was unlikely he would answer. “get anything out of it?” with kaz, it was all about gain.

kaz drummed his fingers on his desk. inej tried not to stare. “some crying first years with who miss their mums. i think i’ve witnessed a bit of every couple in the school’s snogging.” he pulled out a handful of extendable ears from his robe pocket. “snape’s planning something. don’t know the details yet, but something big.”

inej nodded. part of her expected kaz to leave, speak with his silence as he tended to do, but he continued to sit and look at inej, book in lap. inej knew him well enough to recognize that while it wasn’t exactly an invitation, kaz wasn’t saying no to a conversation. she could’ve started with a less risky question about snape’s plans, or asked for the names of the couples in their year, just to know, but inej was curious about other things.

“and how did you find this place, kaz?”

“the de kappel painting.” he said casually. “i needed a place to hide it.”

inej froze, taken aback by kaz’s answer. or more accurately, his willingness to answer. “so it’s true?” she questioned, hoping her voice didn’t give away her surprise. “the gringotts vault rumor.” she had half believed them to begin with, knowing kaz’s abilities but never his motives. still, kaz had never confirmed it with anyone as far as she had known.

“true enough.” kaz reopened his book, attention back on the page. inej inwardly sighed. the satisfaction of knowing kaz trusted her enough to confirm the gringotts rumor didn’t last long. figures kaz wouldn’t want to talk much about himself.

“but that’s a story for next time.” kaz flipped a page, the slightest start of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

next time, inej turned over in her head. she tried not to smile as she opened her own book. she could work with next time.

author’s note (pls read!) this is my first time on tumblr so idk how to use it too well but i’m overwhelmed by all the nice responses so thank you all so, so much. i see everything!! idk if there’s like poll mechanisms and stuff on tumblr (argh help) but i wanted to gauge what everyone would like next—im deciding between six of crows x pjo or shadow and bone x harry potter, so comment below what you’d like to see first (: i’d also love to hear abt any personal requests so my dms (is that what they’re called here?) are open for suggestions. no promises, but lmk if there’s something you want to read. feel free to get as niche as you want, respectfully! ok ik this is super long god bless your soul if u actually read the entire thing but finally, i just wanted to introduce myself—i’m lynn, this is my library and i dabble in most fandoms! my goal is to get at least one piece of writing out every month, so if you’d like to read what i write, follow along! OK im finally done, i swear. thank you again for the tremendous support. unbelievable. happy reading!

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synonymroll648 · 2 years

Note

Hi please talk about any fic your writing/want to write to get me back in the writing mood

(Only if you want to no pressure)

[ids in alt. note to readers: the ask photos are in chronological order of when they were sent, and the ask that's being answered is the most recent.]

kay scrolling back through my notifs to see what i'd missed while i was off working on my homework (that i still need to finish lol) and let me tell you. seeing that you'd sent me seven asks (haven't answered the frog ask yet, but i'll get to it, i promise) in the few hours i'd been gone made me laugh pretty hard. which isn't meant to be discouraging!! people chatting me up is fun!

i decided to address everything except for the frog ask in one go, so here we are. i'll try to go in chronological order, but we'll see how that goes. putting my screamings under the cut. (edit: apparently having the shorten long posts setting on just. eradicates the cut. i swear i put it right beneath this paragraph, even if you don’t see it)

wanting to write but not having the energy to write is such a mood. far too relatable. and hello to you too :)

i actually started this fitz-centric keeptober fic because one of the mods for the massive kotlc ten year anniversary month event that's coming up in october (dearest mod, if you're reading this, you know exactly who you are. drink water king, you're amazing) reached out to me and was like (paraphrased) 'hey. do you wanna have two slots/days in the keeptober event? you pick a character and your own prompt for each day and then show us what you've made when the time rolls around, if you're up for it,' and ofc i said yes.

i won't drop what prompts i picked yet, but since you now know the fic i'm writing is fitz-centric and that i only picked one character for my two days, i think it's clear who my character was. i'd actually selected my prompts and such a little before frizzle was like 'hey can i please use writing exchanges with you as motivation' which was my cue to start actually writing the fic. anyway! i'm glad that i've roped you into fic writing for keeptober! even if there's not a free day or a prompt day that fits what you write, i'm sure there's at least someone out there that would love to see what you make.

kay. my dude. you're asking The Sokeefitz Person on tumblr whether or not you should do sokeefitz or sophiana. both ships are amazing, but i think it's fairly reasonable to say that i am almost always going to choose sokeefitz over every other ship option at every opportunity. so i'd start with sokeefitz first, and then if you have time, go for a sophiana fic.

you assumed correctly!! also, having them go pumpkin picking is such a good idea. i can see so so many possibilities there - lmk if you need ideas, i can certainly spam you with a ton. also, if you want me to beta for you, hmu! i wouldn't mind helping you out /gen

finally, the ask that i'm actually answering, according to tumblr formatting. if that makes sense. i hope that makes sense.

ok so this is actually perfectly timed in terms of where i'm at in the writing process of the fitz-centric fic, because i usually have a better idea of what i'm doing than i do right now. sorry not sorry for not being able to give specifics, but i refuse to spoil this fic ahead of time. i want y'all to walk in almost blind for this bad boy.

i'm not one for written linear outlines most of the time, but typically, i have a timeline in my head that's clear enough that i'm ok 'winging' it. my fics and au's are all categorized as 'timelines' in my head. unless fics take place in the same universe (ex: the sokeefitz roadtrip fic, the prequel where they got together, and the other fic where it's biana's pov of growing up in the vacker family and how it changes when fitz leaves, plus her straightn't relationship with maruca. i haven't talked about the latter two fics on here before, so if they don't ring a bell, that's why), none of the ideas cross over with each other. they're neatly compartmentalized.

but here's the thing: i'm sure that a lot of those fics will never get written and published to a place where fellow fandom members can see it, but there's some excellent ideas that i don't want to waste. which is where this fic comes in - this fic, as soon as i started writing, demanded that i take a significant portion of these ideas that i had carefully compartmentalized into boxes that didn't touch one another, and dump them together into an emotional soup. and i get why; all the ideas i'm thinking of have a common narrative theme, and so they'd blend together. but having my writing process turned on its head like that, having myself pick through different universes for the best scenes to throw together into one fic... it's throwing me for a loop, dude. i have no idea how far i'm going to go with this, and it's kinda giving me an 'ohhhhhh ho ho ho i am. so in over my head. time to have my ass kicked by something that's supposed to be under my control' feeling.

this fic in itself, from a writer's pov, is a veeeeeery sketchy experiment. it's like i'm taking donated organs from different creatures with specific original functions to try to and make a new creature that uses those organs differently than originally intended. it's a very delicate operation. very daunting to go into. i'm gonna have to brainstorm more to see what fits and what doesn't - i haven't done my index card brainstorming yet, which is a big part of my initial process, so hopefully doing that and swapping them around into a new timeline will make this a lot less scary and more the fun 'do whatever feels right' project that i first imagined it to be when i gave myself this prompt.

i'll probably sending mutuals (you included) out-of-context asks to determine different plot aspects of this, knowing me. so look out for those ;)

#ask #winterfireice #i would tag as the fitz-centric fic. but that makes no sense to anyone but me

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hysteriium · 4 years

Text

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆;

(𝐆𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞)

(𝐀/𝐧 ): This is the first I’ve posted in ages!!! I can’t recall how long it’s been, life has truly been hectic but I’m getting back on the saddle!!! We’re starting with my boi! I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing this! I’ve been experimenting with the way he talks so it’s not as overt as I’ve previously written! I feel like the intonations may break the flow a bit so I’ve tried to make it more cohesive! Lmk what you guys think! Also shout out to my amazing partner @lilliryth they’re the light of my life and helped me edit this!! They’re such an amazing person and I would not be where I am today without them.

( 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ): Wedding. That is all. It’s not what you think.

( 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ): DK! Joker x Reader.

( 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ): 7,600+ k words!

( 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ): Angst (very little), swearing, violence.

The first time you’d asked, he simply stared in disbelief.

“Come again?” The bright red hues of confusion painted his husky voice.

The question had been wreaking havoc in your thoughts for the past month, unsure of how to slip out from ambiguity onto the sureness of the tongue. Such a bold yet silly little request was sure to be large and repugnant to the man hovering above you. While the darkness of his eyes was accentuated by his stygian greasepaint, hints of cocoa peeked through, prompting shy flutters of anxiety in your abdomen.

You can do this.

Your tongue slid across the arid cracks of your lips, wetting them. You cleared your throat, “I need a date to a wed–”

That was all you could get out before he blinked a few times and strode off.

The second time, albeit similar in difficulty, thankfully didn’t result in him running.

You tiptoed into his makeshift office with an air of mischief, his room sombre except for the lamp that spotlighted his desk. Hunched over blueprints which you suspected were his next big scheme, his eyes never drifted from the intricacies on the paper.

“Boo!” You shouted, catching his hips with an unbreakable hold when you closed the distance. While his body tensed, he couldn’t control the breath of amusement that left his nose.

“I can see you really tried there.”

You knew he followed your stare when his long fingers worked to roll the sheet. They were fast – so fast the pinched ends stuck out in layered rings that almost resembled winding mountainous trails. He couldn’t have curious eyes ogling his extra top secret will-have-to-kill-you-if-you-found-out criminal plans, now could he?

“What?” you started, while your hands fell and your footsteps whispered away from him. You felt the creases of your mouth wobble, ready to smile at any moment, and so you bit the inside of your tongue. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” he smirked, petting your head.

Curse his height.

“Now, uh, what is it, doll?”

You let your smile leap free, “I need to ask a super dooper big fav–”

“I’m not going.”

“But whyyyyyy? My parents are harassing me! They think their daughter’s going to grow old and grey and be alone forever.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why.”

You shot him a look, one that only fuelled his amusement.

“J, I can’t just not show up.”

You watched his figure rise slightly as he drew and released a breath.

“I don’t like wed–” his tongue stuck out like he’d tasted something bad before he cleared his throat “–dings, they’re full of false hope, drunks and...” he shuddered, “romance. You see, they’ll end up killing each other in a few years. I can picture it now: dearly beloved wife kills cheating husband. Oh how could this have ever happened?”

He scoffed.

“You’re so dramatic. I promise it would only be for a few hours.”

“And pumpkin, how exactly are you gonna sneak me into a… place like that when I look like this,” he said, hands motioning to his face – mostly his scars.

It broke your heart. You could've sworn you heard it splinter, the downturn of your brows impossible to hold back. If only words were enough to convey complex feelings, to convey the pile of bricks nestled in your chest, to convey the desperate crave to comfort and rebut, the need to protect – even from himself. You had yet to find a way, and so you were stuck behind the thick lock and chain of language with no key in sight; restricted and bound to tools you never thought were enough, but could only hope were enough.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. In his eyes you saw the emotions flicker, almost as tangible as they were transparent – anger, fear, shock. Stood still and stiff, you nodded softly, giving him a smile of equal warmth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He squinted before hesitantly giving in, shifting so his cheek rested against your palm. He had to lower himself a little more to do so.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with how you look. They’re beautiful, and I’ll keep saying so until there’s no breath left in my lungs.”

You held him ever so gently while he flitted his eyes shut. Your heart galloped then, its swell too big for your body and for a moment, brief as the breeze, the chaos he prided himself in was absent; for a moment there was peace.

“If you weren’t The Joker, I’d say go as is. Though, I have a plan!”

“Oh, do you now?” He said, shaking his head and returning to work. It was clear he was rapidly reaching his patience threshold.

Damn it.

“They have food!” You trailed off unsurely, as if it was a question – pinning your last hope on appealing to his raccoon inclinations.

It didn’t work.

The third, well…

You had just about given up and accepted the fact that it wasn’t his scene, that him meeting your parents would never be an option – a reality you had started to think of as a good thing the more you thought about it.

And so, the third day had been your acceptance. Self-care. Instead of chasing after an ideal, your hands were clutching a book, almost too hard, as the part you had been anticipating since very early had reached its finale. With your legs curled underneath you and practically asleep, your eyes flicked furiously from word to word–

That is until a looming figure shadowed the page completely, concealing all light from the lamp next to you.

Annoyance creased your features as you looked up at the clownish culprit. Your eyes met and a staring contest ensued, the intensity of his eyes beckoning a response until he, uncharacteristically, broke first.

“Will this make you, uh, happy?”

All traces of irritation were washed away by bewilderment, “sorry?”

“My being with you.”

“You mean to the wedding?” You asked, wide-eyed. If you hadn’t been as shocked as you were, you would have snorted at his continuous inability to say the word ‘wedding’.

He shifted on his feet, eyes darting away for a second before he licked his lips. “Yeah.”

“Is this a joke?”

“I’m not that cruel.”

You paused to hum obnoxiously, your finger tapping your chin to challenge the notion.

“Never mind,” he waved his hand in the air and was about to walk off before you grabbed his hand and sprung off your seat. You felt him try to wiggle out of your grasp with a grunt, but it was too late. “Thank you!” You shouted.

You missed the way his surprise melted into a genuine curl of his lips, twitching; the muscles unused. Instead, you were too busy stuffed in his vest, with your arms swathed around him. You both stayed there for a while basking in the warmth of each other, as his hands, which you guessed were hanging awkwardly in the air and unsure of what to do, encircled your waist.

Third time’s the charm.

Shaking fingers twirled sapphire silk, gliding over your cinched waist before finally moving up to the delicate exposed flesh of your neck. You glanced over the spaghetti straps that curved comfortably over your shoulder, and the simple silver circle necklace that laid between them, its chilled presence clashing with the heat of your skin.

Knock knock knock!

“Just a minute!” You said, jumping at the sudden rude intrusion.

“Not even funeral parlors take this long,” you heard J say from the other side, the distinctive departure of footsteps following promptly. They seemed faster than usual.

You puffed air at his complaint after calming your racing heart. Then you scrambled to finish up the final touches of makeup, at last winding the nude colored ribbons of your heels around your calves. Your head felt light, and your shoes only worsened the sudden gelatinous state your legs took on. Never before had you dressed up in such a way, not for years and much less in front of someone you dearly cherished. The line between fashionable and laughable was blurred and never truly had been exercised. Waving away the fuel your anxious thoughts provided, you decided to try and move. Your heels wobbled trying to avoid the flowing material pooled by your ankles, and you’d just managed to slip one foot out through the thigh-high slit. No matter how much you sighed, the pressure remained, weighing like an anvil. And so, with nothing much to lose, you made your way to the door; the dampness of your fingers leaving its foggy signature upon the knob.

This was it.

You breathed in one last time before opening the door.

“Okay, I’m re–”

You exhaled sharply, feeling the earlier intake of air leave you – taking with it the remaining wind in your lungs. You couldn’t control the twinkle of your eyes, nor the flip of your stomach as you gazed upon him.

His form was angled against the wall and his arms were crossed – that was, until he dragged his eyes over to you. His limbs then dropped to their sides and he quickly, almost stumbling over his shoes, righted his position. The bob of his Adam's apple was clear while both of you stood meters from each other with widened eyes. You knew he had the ability to pull off a suit, but the royal blue he donned was stunning. The stark colour complemented his blond locks, while his foulard tie with its blends of pinks, purples, and its navy base matched his socks.

It seemed you were both in the same boat, consumed by swells of giddiness and the need to fidget. The fingers that were dressed in dark brown leather gloves drummed against his thigh, while one of his cedar suede shoes tapped furiously against the floor.

“What.” He finally stated, rather than questioning.

You dropped the necklace your fingers had started circling.

“Nothing! You just look… really nice,” you uttered earnestly, unable to contain the sweet smile that broke through awe.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh… you too,” he said, the last part coming out less steady.

He avoided eye contact when you trotted over to him, fiddling with his cufflinks, though his tending to them immediately vanished when you began to accentuate the swish of your hips.

All fidgeting stopped.

You were sure he was expecting something else, rather than the delicate cupping of his cheek once you reached him, soft lips meeting with roughened skin as you kissed his scars. You took your time with each one, whispering affection, before claiming his mouth. He growled against you, and you could feel him tighten his hold.

The tip of his tongue traced the stain of lipstick, a wordless demand for entry which left you weak. Almost parting your lips to allow the gentle slide of his tongue, he suddenly reared back with a smirk.

“Peach,” he cooed.

You were going to have to reapply later.

With a small smile you extended your arm to the couch, and knowing time was beginning to pass, he complied. As he advanced, you peeked at the orange lining in his blazer. The hue was similar to his purple coat, though slightly lighter. You smiled to yourself, the small detail so characteristically him.

“Alright. Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, bracing himself.

Already a step ahead, you had brought out the makeup needed just prior to getting dressed. Sitting on one of the nearby surfaces, you picked up a small translucent bag with little red hearts on it – a fact he’d snickered to himself at when he first saw it – and walked over to him.

“As you wish, grumpy,” you simpered, “now hold still!”

True to his new title, you heard him mutter something unintelligible under his breath. The tap-tap-tap of his foot against the floor was most of the noise for a good while, and although distracting, the fidgeting of his hands was less noisy. You knew more than anyone he needed to squirm around, some movement at the very least, and so you endured. You deduced that he’d not been this close to someone in so very long, let alone allow them to do his makeup. That task, intimate and personal within itself, was not something others could be trusted with.

“Time to hide these little guys,” you murmured, focused as the beauty blender sat between your fingers and dabbed on concealer. “Not that they need hiding. I’ll miss them.”

“Really?” He chimed in, eyes shut while you did your work.

“Yeah, they’re a part of you and I’d never want you to hide or be ashamed of who you are.”

“Hmm,” he trailed off.

Occasionally his mouth quirked, his tongue darting out to lick his scars; an involuntary movement. You were patient, and even if he wasn’t overt about his guilt of messing up your progress, you reassured him lightly with a kiss on the head, sometimes playing with the dirty blond waves that lacked any sign of green.

The day before he’d washed out the colour in preparation for the big day, groaning until he caught sight of himself in the mirror; contemplative. Ethereal and almost delicate he seemed. How precious it was to witness such cracks in the fortress, where the basking rays of sun illuminated what once was – and still is, only shrouded by shrubbery and thorns, so overgrown and disordered that they had forgotten to take care of even themselves. Forgotten how.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he groaned as you finished blending the concealer on both cheeks. Grabbing the foundation you had colour matched, you dabbed a bit on your hand before applying that too.

“Honestly, me neither,” you replied, feeling no need to sugarcoat the shock from your tone. You knew he appreciated the truth. “But I’m glad you are! You’re doing so well!”

He squirmed a little at the compliment but settled seconds later. Soon after finishing the blending, you reared back and observed your labour. Although it wasn’t perfect, and if you looked hard enough you could still see the intricate crevices in his skin, it passed.

“All done!”

As soon as you spoke, J pushed off his palms. He was halfway off the chair when you stopped him.

“Wait! I have to walk you through something.”

At this, his eyebrows quirked up. You knew you had his attention.

“Conditions!” You announced.

“Ah. Now there are conditions.”

“Yes! I don’t want you to throw a tantrum and blow up the whole reception.”

“My my, aren’t you a little fire stopper.”

“Promise me.”

He flicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. With one hand on his chest and the other raised just next to his head, he bowed a little. “I swear.”

You wrinkled your nose, “I swear there will be no funny business, and I’ll be on my best behaviour – oh and no crossing your toes either!”

“You know me so well,” he sighed, admitting defeat, “Fine. I swear there’ll be no funny business and I’ll be on…” he cleared his throat and brought a closed fist to his mouth, “my best behaviour.” Then he shone his impishly wide grin, one that only intensified the pit of doubt in your stomach.

It would have to do, though.

“Okay,” you whispered.

He stood up now, towering over you.

“Okay,” he mimicked, dropping his hands at the base of your hips.

The last few days had been full of surprises, his agreement to attend trumping all. However, his overt display of affection was a close second. Never before had he been so forthcoming and so comfortable with physical contact.

As his hands laid there, unmoving and making their home in your curves, you inched closer to him; a specific craving only his warmth could ease. Though, those very same hands around you tightened when you tried to step forward, holding you in place. Curiously, you looked up at him, brows furrowed.

“What are you–”

It seemed he couldn’t help himself. The evil laughter he’d been trying to restrain bubbled from his throat and bounced off the walls. The eagerness to ask what he was doing quickly died – hard – when you could no longer feel the ground beneath your feet. It instead morphed into protests and occasional bouts of laughter as your arms dangled along his back, your pelvis against his shoulder. One gloved hand rested crudely just below the curve of your ass, occasionally squeezing your upper thigh and holding you in place, while his other arm hung unobstructed.

“We–” he clicked his tongue, “–wouldn’t want to be late now, would we?” He finished, purring.

The location was a couple hours outside of Gotham on the coastline in an area you’d practically never heard of. If it wasn’t for J’s gift for navigation, and his frustration when you kept leading him down wrong turns, you would have been hours late instead of just missing the ceremony. The last straw had been assuring him the early exit was your turn off despite his gut instinct, despite the countless times he asked ‘are you sure?’ and despite his sneaking glances – something he stopped doing when he almost crashed into the car next to you, too focused on craning his neck. All of this combined had resulted in the brutal demise of your map reading days.

Stopping where he could after taking the wrong exit he held out a gloved hand, a wordless demand for the navigator. Before long, you were back on the freeway, thankfully heading the right way. The directory rested in his lap as he balanced the seemingly breezy tasks of reading and driving.

Clearly safety was his middle name.

Once the two of you arrived at the venue, the first thing you both noticed was the heat. Warm and uncomfortable, the seabreeze made this bearable. The next notable feature was the rambunctious clamour of the crowd; music, laughter and shouting.

After worming your way out of the van, comically wedged between two much smaller cars, you headed towards the reception, stopping short from the asphalt-sand border. J stared at it as if it had foiled his genius villainous plots, as if it was the cause of all his misfortunes, as if it was responsible for the brutal murder of his first pet. Then, he made a face – a mixture between a scowl and disgust.

He sniffed, “it smells like...” he paused to grimace, “high society.”

The ghastly look was then directed ahead to each moving – breathing – organism he could see. There was no doubt in your mind the crowd had already made it on his hit list.

“For once I miss the stink of Gotham.”

“Well at least it’s at the beach!” You exclaimed, not recalling the last time you’d been. Trying to think that far back made your brain hurt, the tingle of overworked cogs and Brain Fog a lethal combination that coerced your forfeit in seconds. At the very least you were happy to be making new memories, hopefully some you’d be able to remember in the future; memories you prayed were not, later too, guarded by the merciless Brain Fog and his ravenous desire to generate headaches.

“I hate the beach,” J delivered flatly, hatred distilled rolling off his person in waves.

“Oh, you hate everything!” You pouted, brushing off his pessimism.

“It’s hard not to.”

“Well…” You stopped to think, wracking your brain to prove him wrong, “what about me?”

That had to get him.

“You especially,” he grinned, eyes twinkling with a mischief that spoke nothing other than ‘you walked right into that one, sweetheart.’

You were unable to help the sigh that sailed past your hued lips, “well, come on sunshine. You can’t stare daggers at them all day.”

“I can try,” he spat sourly.

You rolled your eyes and dragged him along but immediately dropped the act when you quickly realised it hauled unwanted eyes, like metal to magnets. Yet, J followed even though you were certain he saw the cursed asphalt-sand barrier as the very gates of hell themselves. In fact, he seemed a little bit too eager to start his anathematised exploration of the 9 circles as when you looked back, expecting to see his long limbs hanging in defeated protest, you were met with, well, nothing.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone seemingly stalking off into the unknown, hiding among the sea of people. It wasn’t like he was easy to lose either, his height and his aura of absolute discomfort is what set him apart from the rest. He protruded like a broken bone – so why couldn’t you find him?

“Damn it, J!” You harshly whispered to yourself, unknowingly stamping your foot until the insidious specks of sand tumbled their way into your shoe, under your feet and between your toes. Easily conquering your layer of protection, their coarse presence made you want to grind your teeth.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Before you could go off and search for the lost irritating puppy, you heard shouts. At first they seemed like ordinary yells, distinctive deviations from the crowd which happened to catch your attention at the right moment. Though, the more time passed and you wandered around like a newborn giraffe looking for its mother, you realised this was not the case. Most telling was the way those vague cries morphed into the familiar syllables of your name. And then finally in view, the supposed sweet comfort of childhood embodied neared; their worn features staring into your own, different from all those years ago.

You fought the urge to run.

“Hey honey!” Your dad beamed.

Two pairs of smothering arms made their way toward you, enveloping. With your fingers clutching separate materials, each as scratchy and glacial as each other, your head started to spin and you felt yourself holding your breath.

“Hey mum, hey dad, it’s nice to see you two again,” you said, feeling the slow ache from clenching your jaw starting to set in. You quickly swapped this expression for a small smile when they released you.

“How’ve you been?” Your dad inquired, the shimmer in his eyes a sight you couldn’t help but double take at. You noticed there was no glass in his hand.

“Don’t bombard her dear,” your mum rolled her eyes, “where’s this date you were telling me about?”

She lingered on the word with an emotion you couldn’t quite discern while her adjudicating eyes swept over your outfit. Her eyebrows then lifted, scrunching her nose with it. “Not bad.”

Her scanning forced you to shrink into yourself, the automatic motion of your palms relentless in their pursuit of wrinkles, a fact you did not pick up on until your mother cleared her throat at your unprompted staring contest.

“My question dear, it’s rude to ignore your mother,” her thin brows creased and the folds just above them rested along her forehead in a similar fashion.

You scrambled for an acceptable answer, the question just as ambiguous to yourself.

“He’s… um… getting us drinks! I was actually just about to go check up on–”

“Well if a man can’t even fetch you a drink he’s hardly useful,” she scoffed, turning to her husband to whisper, “can’t imagine what this prince charming looks like.”

Anger, lava-like and boiling, rose up in your throat. The pressure seemed unbearable as you tried to keep your mouth closed – tried not to defend the one you loved with your entire being. How dare she judge someone she had yet to even meet? She had yet to see the beauty that radiated in and out.

It had only been minutes and you’d already been zapped of your energy for the day.

“I think I should go check on him now.” “Yes, of course. Come back to me when you have something to show,” your mother smiled. You watched her lips stretch, her wine lipstick as pigmented as the red coating your vision.

Her hand clutched the necklace around her chest. Her fingers traced the glistening diamond which hung overtly, screaming it’s pricelessness to all passersby as she went to go have another sip of her champagne. At the corner of your eye you noticed movement, a pair of worn hands clutching suit pants. Hard. You turned automatically and when you met his eyes your dad shot you a strained smile. It almost looked like an apology.

Your stomach turned.

You tried your best to conceal the stomping as you promptly departed, promising yourself to at least wait until you were out of their view and blending in with the crowd. Once you merged with the patches, you quickly discovered that navigating your way out of it was going to be just as hard as trying to find J. Left and right amalgamated, looking the same no matter how many times you tried to compare differences and so did everyone’s outfits. You could have sworn you’d seen the same red dress three times, though you also could have sworn you went all different directions to the last; the truth was you were no more knowing than a sailor stranded at sea lacking a compass, the same indistinguishable shapelessness stretching out for miles and miles with no end in sight.

Then, a miracle – a clearing of people which shrieked hope and a long portable table with flowing white lace harbouring all kinds of food. Amongst the good news, a blotch of royal blue caught your eye and a flash of blond. Focusing your view on the table and its few inhabitants, one of which was the blue wearing stranger, you quickly realised your missing date was fixed and firm in place at the snack area. No sooner than this revelation processed you dashed over, the anger returning once the relief had run its fleeting course. As you stormed your way over to him he failed to look up, too preoccupied with the food he was collecting. Lacking in subtlety, you grabbed his arm.

“Jesus there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

J, who had been waiting to stuff his face with what you identified as another cupcake, mouth ringed with strawberry frosting, crumbs and sprinkles, dropped it in surprise and turned to you with widened eyes. They shrunk as soon as they showed an inkling of surprise and instead shifted to speckled guilt.

“Cupcake,” he managed to mumble with a full mouth.

Your fiery frustration was immediately put out by how cute he was, and you felt a surge of guilt yourself. It wasn’t fair to be taking out your personal frustrations on him.

After closing your eyes and taking a breath, you reset.

“They think I’m lying about you.”

He swallowed.

“You wanna leave? I, uh, know I want to,” he said much louder than the whisper you wish he’d used.

Such a comment warranted an elbow jab into his waist as you smiled ear to ear and sickly sweet at the passing guest who had clearly heard J. The middle aged woman with short brunette hair, white pom-pom earrings and beady eyes shot you two a blazing look before rutting her nose into the air. The reek of pretension wafted off her. Now you could see what J was saying earlier.

Pee-yew.

Everyone here sucked.

“I’m gonna kill her later,” he murmured, squinting after her.

“J, you promised to be good!”

Even if she was a grandiloquent old bitch who deserved it.

His ominous response was to pour himself some punch, the clown-in-disguise bringing the plastic up to his lips. As the cup masked most of his face, the only thing visible was his deadly gaze which bounced from congregation to congregation.

“How much longer.” Again, it wasn’t phrased as a question, more a statement.

“The bride and groom haven’t even danced yet.”

He scrunched his nose, though dropped the subject. At least verbally.

“You’re so crabby. You do know that you’re drawing even more attention to yourself this way?”

“Hmmph.”

It was silent for a few minutes before, without warning, he grabbed your hand. The hesitant and jagged strokes of his thumb followed and even though they belonged to a novice, the delicacy was still there.

The message was clear:

I’m new to this.

Your lips upturned, the gentle quirk hidden by transient hair flowing along the salty breeze. His touch was warm and paradoxically amiable; his presence a shelter cutting the chilly current that had picked up around noon. Stained lips, of which you had forgotten about until the sticky residue imprinted boldly on his glove, aimed to ease his buzzing mind. Expecting a grumble for the lipstick mark, what you got in return was the soft gaze of dark brown eyes – a sign of taming raging waters. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact the window into his soul for once could be identified as just that – a window; crystal, without the dirtied stains of camouflage and trepidation.

Something had changed.

Before you could get another word in, it was announced the bride and groom were going to have their first dance. The crowd gathered around the newly wedded couple as the music suddenly switched. The speakers were loud as they played a waltz, the couple’s limbs intertwined and swaying to its dramatic pace. They twirled and swayed with the grace of swans tiptoeing and beguiling the creeping ocean on the golden sands. Even though you knew virtually nothing about them, and were convinced that in fact this whole invite was your mother’s scheme to pry, the sight was a beautiful one to behold. The epitome of love – reciprocal trust and utter surrender; it had you wondering where you’d gone wrong previously, and if such a thing was as formulaic as it seemed to be, or if they were freefalling into the abyss as much as everyone else was; blindfolded, but nonetheless with each other. Welded in each other’s hearts.

How long had you projected your yearning at the couple and vicariously lived through their magical moment? You couldn’t say, though it was only the sudden grip on your shoulder that had managed to break your fixed admiration. It was firm, but nowhere near the realm of rough, and it even contained a fraction of gentleness, an action that wordlessly said ‘are you okay?’

At the sudden presence, you looked over your shoulder to find J, his guarded eyes holding a knowledge which only deepened the crawling feeling of embarrassment. Blood rushed to your cheeks. As you rounded your gaze back to the couple, you quickly saw the crowd was beginning to join them, all dancing at their own pace as the music continued its intimate lull. J’s hand slid down your arm while you watched and returned to hold your hand. Content and about to lean into him, your sudden love struck daze pounced away when he started to walk, dragging you along with him.

“Hey– what are you doing?”

No response.

“Let me go!” You said, your tone coming out a lot angrier than you’d expected. You guessed this alerted him because even though you were mere meters away from the rest of the crowd he stopped to explain.

“I saw the way you were looking at them. You know, cupcake, you’re not hard to read,” he drawled.

You pursed your lips, looking away for a moment.

“So what? What are you doing?”

“What does it – ah – look like?”

He’d seemingly taken your lack of response as a positive and continued forward. He grinned once he had you in position and placed his palm on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. He then maneuvered his other hand to grab yours and stretched it forward. From his first few steps you knew immediately it was the Viennese Waltz. The fast tempoed dance was one you weren't all too familiar with, but you’d learned its slower English counterpart.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you gasped, trying your best to conceal your astonishment. You didn’t want to seem rude, though he just didn’t seem like the person interested in such a thing. Nor have the time. You were certainly finding yourself more curious about the origin of such a talent, and all the other potential abilities that were sneakily tucked away.

“Well aren’t I just full of surprises.”

He dipped you slightly in time with the halt of the orchestra. He held you there for a moment before the tune resumed its boisterous charm, climbing steadily to its crescendo.

“Here’s to another,” he said, his smile widening. If you didn’t know him so well you would have believed the expression to be completely innocent and honeyed. Standing there intertwined with his limbs you knew that devilish gleam was anything but.

And, seconds later, this suspicion proved right.

Suddenly he lifted you, twirling you around in such a way that made you feel like you were the bride. You’d only seen such a thing in Disney movies and cheesy rom coms – to be cherished, to be loved and cared for in such a delicate way was a fantasy; a taste of nostalgia and a serenade to the hopeless romantic within.

“J, put me down! Put me down!” You felt yourself swallow when his hands tightly gripped your hips. For a moment the irritation you’d experienced all day from a full face of makeup and wandering had all been worth it.

His laughs slipped out, too; a direct contrast from his often irked facade, a musically heart-warming phenomenon which no instrument could emulate. The whole time you kept your eyes on each other and never once did they deter, focused on drinking in the beauty of each other. The cheers from the crowd you’d gathered fell upon both your deaf ears, transfixed by each other’s magic in your own closed off bubbles.

As you continued to dance, the act itself felt like flying. The crowd separated when you neared – that is, until everything stopped. Sharp and prompt.

Neither of you had much regard for the abrupt bump when it happened, there were people everywhere and mistakes occurred. It was no big deal. At least that’s what you told yourself until such a collision was followed by a violent shriek and a splash.

Loud gasps replaced the background noise of applause.

In a few frightening seconds your brain made the connection – linking who you’d just seen in the same area minutes before, inches from the ocean.

“Oops,” you squeaked, too scared to turn around. However, despite your better judgement you did just that.

The groom stood in shock, evidently unable to come to terms with the sight he was seeing. One moment his new wife was safe within his arms, dancing as if it was only two of them in the universe, the next she was below him, swimming with seaweed. Then, his form began to tremble, a telltale sign that what was to come was nowhere near the realms of good.

He turned around with searing red eyes, a wrinkled nose and bared teeth. The eyes of the bull met the petrified, and his stubby, squared and well-manicured finger pointed directly at you.

“You fucking bitch!” He roared.

You jumped, feeling yourself cling to J. His arm wrapped around you reassuringly and although you trusted him with your life, being confronted by a raging groom was still nonetheless intimidating. The groom who apparently cared more about telling you off than helping his wife, who was still floundering in the crashing waves, began his march over to you.

“Do you know who I am?” He continued, and you wondered if he was still aware there was a crowd around. J almost instantly stood in front of you and had to hunch further to scowl at your aggressor.

“What was that?” J grabbed the man in front of him and slipped the blade hidden in his sleeve between the groom’s lips, angling it against the crease of his mouth.

“Hmm? Why not try your luck, princess. Say it again.”

The groom froze, the flicker of fear evident even on your end, though he kept up his brutish facade.

“You’re both going to be 6 feet under when my dad’s through with you.”

“Aww… run along to daddy so he can fix all your problems,” you could hear the pout in your boyfriend’s voice, comfortable and in your eyes even elated, to spit out the toxins he’d been gathering from just being here all day.

“So you do know who I am–” “The second most spoiled kid of Gotham’s underbelly.”

“And yet, you’re still holding the knife.”

“Of course the first would be your brother though, hmm?” J continued, completely ignoring the man's statement.

The groom gritted his teeth.

“I bet it stings to not be the favourite. To not even have him here on your big day.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” The groom spat, bullseyeing J’s shoe. You saw red pooling at the corner of the man’s mouth, the mere act of expectorating on your boyfriend’s shoe more urgent than self-preservation.

Yeesh.

“Now that’s not very hygienic,” J growled, wrinkling his nose. His grip on the knife tightened and in one quick motion, the groom was screaming.

While you couldn’t see the infliction from where you were positioned, the blood dripping onto the sand was clear as crystal. The screams of those around you were piercing, their horror and disgust forcing you to cling tighter to your boyfriend.

“J, please! That’s enough, it’s okay!” You pulled on his blazer. Feeling the hundreds of widened eyes staring holes into your being was no longer a concern. What mattered most was him. Getting out of here.

With a quick glance to his right, J met you, then looked back at the groom.

He smacked his lips.

“Seems you are lucky,” he purred, the shimmer in his eye reflecting nothing of the warmth he concealed so carefully – nothing of the warmth of when your eyes met. Instead, it was serrated and reflected jeopardy. He possessed the force of a hurricane. A gravity; the way in which he commanded the direction of things and uprooted the fortitude of the righteous, the sure, a mothernatured finesse.

He looked back at you again before shifting his hold on the man, fisting his wrinkled and bloodied shirt, then barked, “why don’t you go join your blushing bride?”

With the element of surprise, J raised his knee and shot it between the man’s legs, the man falling down almost as fast as the foreign presence made an impact. You could have sworn someone at the corner of your eye jolted, most likely fearing the worst while others let out shrieks. Fear of the unknown, the seduction of one’s imagination and its ability to fill in blanks was the most manipulatable aspect of consciousness. Rather than bleeding out and rocking lifeless against the cradling waves like so many had thought, the groom sat there, soaking in the shame of defeat and crimson. He hollered while his new wife crawled to his side.

“Tell your precious father I said ‘hi.’”

All eyes now turned to you both as you speedily departed, J dragging you along once more. The colony of sand in your shoe that had begun its formation hours ago was well in its breeding season now, the leathery insole most likely buried along with the newly wed’s marriage. Before you fully exited the cooperative crowd, forever to forget the merging faces of horror, two familiar ones caught your eye.

Hah!

“Some date, huh?” You smiled, staring at your mother straight on. The way her face twisted up in a myriad of emotions – surprise, disgust, embarrassment – was something you’d never forget. You were sure you destroyed her little snobbish social circle by the mere association. Pride swelled in your chest, a childish victory that didn’t seem so childish when you later reflected on your relationship with her.

When the two of you escaped back to the van successfully, there was a moment of contemplation.

“I – heh – think that went well!” J laughed to himself, rounding his body to face you, “you think your parents like me?”

“I think I should be asking the same to myself,” you said.

“Cheer up buttercup, at least your parents know you’re not dying alone anymore.”

“To be honest, after that shitshow they’d probably prefer it,” a sigh left your lips and you began to bite them, unconscious of the small action until the taste of metal blew up your taste buds.

“Eh. Who needs parents, anyway?”

You began to fiddle with your hands, suddenly finding them incredibly interesting. From the lack of interruptions you concluded he knew you were miles away, trapped in the wilderness of your own thoughts.

“So I’m guessing you only came because you found out whose wedding it was.”

It took a lot to break the silence, and the air suddenly shifted to a heaviness. You weren’t sure you were the only one tensing.

J clicked his tongue but didn’t answer.

“It’s okay… I think I’ve had my fill of weddings for a while, anyway. And parents. And honestly, maybe people,” you answered for him, despite the swirl of hurt brewing in your gut.

He breathed out his amusement. The lack of transience had you swallowing, frantic to keep the growing weight on your chest from expanding – from consuming your entire being with emptiness. You didn’t know how long you had until the stampede made its mark, the thunderous thuds of terror already echoing in the distance.

Those were only thoughts you could entertain alone, sunken in the decaying paradise of your bed.

Silence prevailed again.

Dazed and lost of direction, you remained fixated on the lines of your palms.

“The husband had a temper. You know, I thought they were so lovely at first.”

“That’s what they want you to believe. Their little golden castles sparkle in the sun and it’s only until the rain pours that you can see them for what they really are. Wet cardboard. Looks can be deceiving.”

“They certainly can be,” you looked up at him, smiling softly.

Even with the friction, you slowly reached up to cup his face. This time on his end, there was no fear or hesitation. Instead, just an unspoken mutual trust between two wandering souls. You looked down at his lips while your thumbs stroked the hidden lines of his scars. The gentle caresses wore down the makeup until finally they were visible again.

The marks of a survivor – beautiful and bold.

“Wait,” he said, the word simple and yet so labyrinthine. He reared back and looked at his hands while your own moved to rest on your knees. Curled into fists, his slowly unclamped like a blooming flower. What they revealed had your heart thumping, dancing its rhythm in your throat. You felt your eyes widen and the sadness immediately leave you, as if all its colour had been drained from you. You felt like a 1930’s cartoon, so shaken to the core that all you could see was greyscale.

“It wasn’t the only reason,” he whispered, the commanding presence absent.

He cleared his throat and finally looked up at you, “in fact, these were my only reason.”

“You son of a bitch,” you bit your tongue in awe at the binding pieces of metal in his hands. They twinkled in the holiday rays, beckoning, unuttering whispers of fabrication. Was the weight of those dual bands as heavy as his heart? As heavy as the solemn expression as he processed your jabbing words?

“I-I know it’s not much but–” he stuttered, and was promptly interjected.

“Oh! No, no, no! I didn’t mean–”

You both smiled. Yours wide and brazen, his small and seraphic.

“My J. Always starting fights, always getting what he wants,” you took the ring from his finger and darted to your left hand, slipping it on its rightful throne, “how can I resist?”

You kissed him mellowed and full of saccharine and he sighed, his reciprocation just as tender despite the usual dash of coarseness.

“Mine,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. He fluttered his eyes shut and his breathing began to steady.

“Mine,” you whispered.

In all that was and all that ever could be, never would you have believed such a moment possible. Magical and idiosyncratic, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Nothing big and extravagant in front of many eyes. Just the two of you, inside what you now considered the best moment of your life. What many described as a lock and chain, a prison for the rest of one’s life, you would describe as the only thing you had ever wanted. As much as before, everything felt complete.

Supernal.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, breathing in unison, basking in each other. All you knew was that it was all too soon when you hit the road again, starting the long journey back to Gotham. After a lot of the same scenery – trees, cars, rocks, more cars and occasional bodies of water – your eyes had become leaden. Resting became impossible to oppose and before long your eyes gave into its stinging demand.

Somewhere within the haze of half-consciousness, a mysterious material was draped over you. It was silken on the inside, your arms softly grazing it occasionally, and linen on the outside, your chin brushing over it when passing uneven roads. Subtle ripples of cologne drifted from the fabric as you finally fell prey to sleep’s siren song.

“Sleep well, sweetpea,” lulled a sweet voice.

345 notes · View notes

yourmidnightlover · 4 years

Text

niagara falls

TW: past thoughts of suicide, drinking, car accident (not involving reader), pining (lmk if i missed anything plz)

Summary - spencer explodes on reader after coming to a realization, and reader decides to take a much needed vacation - away from him.

WC - 5,305

masterlist

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"i don't understand why you're like this!" spencer shouted as he slung his satchel off his shoulder and onto the couch. "why do you even care?!"

"why do i care?!" you scoffed. "you seriously aren't asking me that, spencer," you rolled your eyes in disbelief. "because i care about you. that's why i care. i'm so sorry my caring about you is an inconvenience," you sarcastically apologized, throwing your hands up in frustration as he sat down on the couch with his head laying in his hands.

"you're just so overbearing sometimes, y/n. i can't handle it right now!" he yelled, finally pulling his head up to meet your gaze only to find your eyes welling up with tears. "are you seriously crying right now?" he chuckled as he rolled his eyes once again.

"spencer please... just tell me why you're so upset right now. i want to help you," you pleaded, trying to calm yourself down as you sat on his couch beside him, placing a hand gently on his knee.

"well maybe i don't want your help! i never asked you to help me!" he slung your hand off his knee as he rose to his feet once again.

"why won't you let me help you? i'm your friend, spence. i want to help you... please," you admitted as a year slipped down your cheek.

"i don't want your help! i don't want you here! i don't want to be near you! i wish you died when the unsub took you. i should've let him just finish the fucking job!" he yelled, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from you. "i mean it seemed like you wanted to die anyways because of your carelessness. your stupidity! so why don't you do just that?" he walked into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water.

you stayed silent, unaware of what to do with what he just admitted. your best friend just said he wished you had died. he wished you had been killed.

you didn't know what to do, but you knew you didn't want to stay with him for one more second. you were done trying to help him through whatever was going on.

so you got up and left. you walked out of his door and slowly made your way to the car, still trying to process what just happened.

spencer looked up when he heard his door softly shut. he grabbed his water and walked into the living room, only to find you not there anymore.

then he finally processed what he had said, himself. he said he wished you had died. he told you he wanted you dead.

he went to his room, not bothering with anything else at that point, and laid down on his bed. spencer felt guilty about what he had said, but he was sure you wouldn't want to see him.

but you would've done anything to see him. you waited inside your car, outside of his building for nearly half an hour just hoping he'd come down.

you wanted him to apologize, or to say he didn't mean it, anything that would suggest he didn't mean what he had said.

but he didn't come down.

you even saw as his lights turned off in his apartment, signaling his sleep, before you decided to drive off.

which leads to you now.

you were at a bar after calling penelope and emily, jj wasn't able to make it because of will and the kids. you were still in your work clothes, but managed to clean up the makeup that had began to streak down your face.

when the two girls got there, you had already been through a couple drinks within the past twenty minutes waiting for them, in spite of your knowledge of you being a lightweight.

"y/n!" you heard penelope greet you accompanied by the tell tale sound of her heels clicking against the floor. "my pumpkin pie what happened?!" she said as she approached you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder as she took a seat beside you.

"are you alright, y/n?" emily asked as she approached the chair on the opposite side of you.

"i'm... yup," you giggled as you turned to face emily. "is that unsub still in custody? maybe he still wants to have his go with me," you asked before busting out in laughter.

"what? y/n why...?" emily questioned, looking past you and making eye contact with penelope, silently asking if she understood what you meant. "why would you say that?" she asked softly, taking her coat off in preparation for the rest of the night.

"welllll, pretty lady, apparently spencer should've just let him finish the job when he took me," you giggled, leaning in closer to emily. "at this point i think spencer might want to finish the job himself!" you whisper shouted, penelope still able to hear your comment as you busted out in laughter once again.

"what'd boy wonder say?" penelope asked, scooting her chair closer to yours and emily's in hopes of hearing you better.

"he said 'i wish you died when the unsub took you. i should've let him finish the fucking job!'" you said with a smile on your face, the giggles still popping out of your mouth every so often.

penny and emily shared a knowing look as they glanced at each other. emily raised her eyebrows in suspicion as penelope rubbed her lips together with furrowed brows.

"i think you guys forget," you hiccuped, "i'm a profiler, silly gooses. i knoowww that look you guys are giving each other," you slammed your hands down on the table. "he meant what he said. he wants me dead," you frowned, the giggling finally ceasing as you took in the harshness of the situation. "maybe i should be, you guys."

"no! no, no, no," penny insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder to turn you towards her. she took note of the tears in your eyes once again. "he doesn't want you dead, y/n. he lost it when he found out the unsub took you."

"garcia's right. he could barely think straight for longer than 15 seconds when you disappeared," emily confirmed. "he cares about you, don't forget that."

"you should've seen him tonight, em," you turned to face emily, taking another sip of your drink before penny took it from you despite your protests. "he told me he didn't want to be near me and that he didn't want my help," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes before they fell. "i just wanted him to be okay..."

"i know you did sweetie," penny consoled as she rubbed a hand on your back.

you leaned forward and rested your head on emily's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around you. penny continued to rub your back as sobs racked through your body. eventually, your sobs slowed and you were able to sit back up and wipe your tears.

he knew about your struggle with depression in the past. he knew that there was a point in your life when you didn't even want your life. he had to know the weight of his words as he said them.

and that hurt worse than the fact that he said them.

the fact that he knew how much they'd hurt you.

"i think i just need a break from him for a while," you sniffled as you used a napkin to wipe your tear stained cheeks.

you and spencer had spent practically every free night you had together. whether you went to his place or him yours, you spent whatever free time you had together.

you would watch those foreign films together, where he would whisper the translations in your ear. he would try to teach you to be better at chess. you would attempt to teach him to be a better cook. each of you loved spending time together.

so spencer saying that to you, knowing your backstory and your history, hurt more than you'd care to admit.

"are you sure?" emily asked concerned.

"he meant it, em. it was like he hated me. i don't... i don't want to see him again. at least not for a while," you frowned at the admission, picking at your nails in your lap.

"maybe that's for the best. a little break?" penelope agreed. "you still have a lot of vacation time, y'know," she suggested, nudging your shoulder slightly.

"yea. i think i might take a vacation for a month or two. visit my family, see some sights," you shrugged.

you and spencer had been looking through catalogues together at different sights you'd like to see together. those were the only places you'd thought about seeing, so you'd probably just visit them alone, try to make your own memories without him tainting them.

"that sounds fun, y/n. it's a good idea," she gently scratched your back.

"just uhm... don't tell spencer, please," you asked as you placed a twenty on the counter of the bar.

"whatever you want, sugar," penelope agreed, helping you stand to your feet. "we carpooled here, so i'll just drive you home, okay?" penelope suggested as you nodded in agreement.

"you can stay the night. you don't need to be out this late, pen," you practically demanded.

"yes ma'am," penny laughed at your care for others, even when you felt horrible.

you've always been the person that's there for everyone, even spencer.

when they each went through their own trouble or needed help you were there for them.

especially spencer.

and now after you had your own traumatic experience where you thought you would die yourself, spencer wasn't there for you. instead, he added to the hurt and pain.

penelope drove you home, you fell asleep on the way. she slept in your guest bedroom and helped you when you had to throw up in the middle of the night.

you had never been more grateful to not have worn the next day. you called hotch to let him know of your plans of vacation for a couple months, which he allowed.

he thought it was an excellent decision for you to take a vacation. you'd always worked hard on everything you did. paperwork or a case, you did your best. so he knew this break would really help you to relax.

so, you planned everything out. you got a plane ticket to see your family, and you would drive everywhere from there on out with a rental car.

you would see the statue of liberty, the empire state building, acadia national park, walters art gallery, the national aquarium, and so many other places you and spencer had looked through together.

part of you felt guilty for doing this without him, but you figured since he wanted you dead he could just go see the places by himself. he'd probably enjoy them even more without you, anyway.

you had decided to turn your phone off, not wanting to be bothered by the nuisance of social media, but you left your work phone on in case of an emergency. you had gotten a video camera in hopes of recording your journey.

you sent postcards at every location you went to. you even sent them pictures of you and your family together, smiles in every single one of them.

your mom and step dad were overjoyed to see you. they could tell there was something that pushed you for this vacation other than just needing a break from work, but they didn't push since they were just excited to see you.

you videoed them upon your arrival, them hugging you tightly and your dogs jumping on you.

the sights were absolutely stunning. you couldn't believe how amazing the views were. they were more incredible than you could imagine.

part of you couldn't stop thinking about spencer and how much you missed him. you had wanted to see these places together, but you figured he never wanted to see you again.

so at each spot, you made a separate video dedicated to spencer. you told him how part of you wished he was there to tell you his facts he had about the places. you told him how you wished he actually wanted to be there with you, but understood that he needed his own space.

as happy as you seemed in those pictures and at those sights, when you got back to your hotels you would break down.

you didn't understand how spencer could be so cruel to you after you trying to be the best friend you could be.

now you had one more week of vacation and you only had one more sight to see, the one you were the most excited about.

the day spencer blew up on you, he couldn't get over how rude his words had been. he decided to leave you be the next few days, letting you both cool off from the blowup that had ensued.

the day he had gone back to work, he got you your favorite muffin, coffee, and flowers. he placed them on your desk waited for you to walk through the doors so he could beg for your forgiveness.

but you didn't show up.

he went into hotch's office in hopes of finding answers, only to be told that you had requested time off.

he was riddled with guilt from the new information. you had practically fled because of his words.

he didn't talk to anyone the rest of the day. he just finished his paperwork quickly and went home.

when he saw the postcards you had sent emily, jj, derek, penelope, rossi, and hotch, he felt part of his heart break.

all of the places you went were the places he wanted to take you.

he wanted to tell you the fun facts about those places that he researched just to see your smile. he wanted to hold your hand as you looked out on new york as you stood in the empire state building. he wanted those experiences with you.

and there you were experiencing them without him. enjoying them like you had never discussed them with him yourself.

and you never even sent him a postcard.

during all of this, spencer had received the cold shoulder from practically everyone. they had stopped asking him out after cases, and didn't talk to him unless it had to do with the cases they were on.

"morgan! can you at least tell me why everyone's treating me like this?" spencer begged him to reveal the truth for what felt like the millionth time.

"reid. you're telling me you seriously don't know why everyone's mad at you?" he scoffed. "you're a profiler. figure it out," he demanded as he turned to walk back to his desk, unaware that the shaggy haired man had followed him.

"i've tried. please, just tell me," he asked, his eyes welling with tears.

"because of what you told her, reid," morgan sighed, finally looking at the man standing beside him. "you told her you wanted her dead. we all know her past struggles, and you still told her you wished she was dead. that was so beyond low, reid," morgan informed the man.

spencer stood there, taking in the information.

he didn't realize that nobody knew why he had said that. nobody knew why he pushed you away.

"sh-she really believes that?" spencer asked, watching morgan nod. "i don't want her dead. i need her. i've always needed her. i'll always need her," he shook his head in frustration, running his hand through his hair. "i-i said that because i realized how much i needed her. i realized how much i love her and it terrified me. i was just scared of those feelings, morgan. sh-she can't go. i can't lose her, derek," spencer cried, tears streaming down his face as he admitted his feelings for the first time out loud.

"well you sure have a funny way of showing it, reid," morgan rolled his eyes before sighing in compliance. "if you really love her, show her that. she's traveling alone right now, thinking you hate her and thinking that you don't want her in the world right now," morgan shook his head as he stood up to hand some files in to hotch.

"i know. b-but what should i do?" the boy genius wondered.

"go to her, dumbass. let her know how you feel and how much of a dumbass you are," morgan said as he walked off to hand his files in.

spencer ran to penelope's lair in hopes to track where you were.

"garcia!" spencer said upon entrance.

"reid. what do you want?" she asked in a monotoned voice.

"garcia, please just listen to me. you have to hear my side of the story, please," he begged. she turned around in her chair to face spencer, raising her eyebrows to entice him to finish the story. "i love her," he ripped the band-aid off. "i'm in love with her, and i only realized it when i thought i might lose her forever. and that feeling... it-it terrified me. so, i pushed her away. i couldn't... i couldn't go on knowing that she didn't feel the same, so i ruined our friendship."

"spencer..." penelope sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead in an attempt to not explode on the man in front of her. "she was absolutely devastated. she went to the bar that night and... she drank. you know that she never drinks, spencer. not since her dad was in that car accident. she was distraught because you knew her past. you knew and you still yelled that at her..." penelope looked at the tears in his eyes, realizing how much he truly felt for you. "but i guess i can help you. although i promised her i wouldn't tell you anything!" she chastised. spencer ran over and hugged her tightly.

"oh thank you so much, garcia! thank you!!" he exclaimed excitedly. "i'm gonna go tell hotch i need a week off to visit her!" he said before running out of garcia's office.

penelope had gotten the information he needed from tracking your work phone, and gave it to him. spencer was approved to leave abruptly by hotch, him being understanding of the direct of the situation.

truth be told, hotch had a suspicion reid was the reason you left. he had noticed the tension between the two of you after they got you back from the unsub, and just came to a conclusion after you asked for time off.

so of course he let spencer have time off. he hoped he would try to fix things between the two of you. hotch was a bit worried you might leave the into if things weren't resolved, so whatever would keep you with them would work.

spencer figured you'd choose to go to the place you were most excited about last. you always wanted that kind of flare, the buildup to the most beautiful sight you'd see. when penelope told him where you were after tracking your phone, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

he ordered the first ticket to upstate new york, and reserved a room at the hotel he found you had been staying at after garcia tracked your credit card purchases.

"morgan, i just finished packing," spencer said while on the phone with his friend, putting his suitcase into the back of a cab so he could get to the airport.

"good. don't forget to have flare, reid. women love that stuff," morgan chuckled.

"not y/n, morgan. she wouldn't want that attention," spencer practically scoffed at him while shutting the trunk, now stepping into the back of the cab.

"right, right. my bad," he raised his hands in defense in spite of spencer not being able to see him.

"aright, i've got to go now," spencer announced.

"let me know how it goes, alright?" morgan requested, still feeling a little eager at the entire situation going down.

"of course," spencer accepted. "bye."

spencer sighed as he gave the cab driver the address of the airport. he wasn't sure about him confessing his feelings for you, but that's the only way to show you how sorry he was, and how he didn't mean a word he had said to you.

he hated the past three weeks without you. without your gentle touch, melodious laughter piercing his ears at one of his crummy jokes. without the sight of your beautiful smile, or the way your voice sounded while mindlessly singing as you attempted to teach him how to cook.

he found himself watching videos he had of you and him together, scrolling through your pictures.

some were silly, goofy pictures you had taken of the two of you. some of the pictures were of you and him in formal wear at rossi's, him looking at you in your dress like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen... mostly because you are. some are of you asleep on his couch cuddled into his chest and gripping onto him in the midst of your dream, your smile signified that it was a good dream, at that.

he didn't know when he fell in love. all he knew was that he had fallen. hard. he didn't even care enough to figure out when the exact moment was, and he might as well have not tried.

he fell in love with you over time.

because over time you would reveal a little bit more of yourself to him that he found himself admiring. at first it was the way you secretly had a crush on james t. kirk. then it was that you snort when you truly laugh... something you were insecure about but he found even more adorable.

then it was about your dad.

it was about the car accident that ensued after a drunk driver slammed into him.

then he understood why you were so protective over the team when they went out together. you never drank, and always drove the girls and morgan home when they drank too much. you took the responsibility because you couldn't stand the thought of losing them like you had your own father years ago.

his death is what made you question everything, including your own existence. you didn't understand why he was gone, and left you behind.

on the anniversary of his death, you and spencer had gone to his grave to mourn him. he held you while you cried, and helped you eat the picnic you had brought with you.

so no, there wasn't a specific moment where he could pinpoint where he fell in love with you. this was merely because there's so much love he has for you that he's pretty sure he'll never stop falling in love.

once the plane landed in new york, he took a cab to the hotel you were both staying at and got everything ready. he remembered everything you were doing that day, and decided to surprise you at the one place he knew you were going to love the most.

niagara falls.

he got dressed in jeans and a white button up shirt. he put a brown sweater vest overtop the button up, and wore his black converse and satchel.

he had stopped by to get your favorite flowers. he got a mixture because he knows how you hate only being able to have one favorite - marigolds, daisies, asters, lilies, white tulips, and lilacs. you love the mixture of the colors together.

he planned to stop by your room and give you the flowers, begging for your forgiveness and admit his undying love for you. no problem.

then the time came.

his palms were sweaty, he could practically tell his voice would crack upon his admission to you. worst case scenario, you say you hate his guts and never want to see him, transfer out of the team, and he never sees you again. that's something he can't let happen.

best case scenario, you return his feelings and let him see this one last place with you as a truce. he gets to tell you the facts he learned just for this experience, and you live happily ever after.

he really hopes it's best case scenario.

meanwhile, you were looking through your suitcase. you had realized the last sweater you brought with you was spencer's, you just didn't realize it upon packing. you felt the tears pricking the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

you could throw the sweater away, and just wear one of your other shirts. or you could bask in his scent one last time before christening your life from him.

that decision had to wait, because there was a knock on your door.

you threw a robe over your shirtless body, and ran to open the door. your face fell upon seeing who was there. you were confused, shocked that you saw the man you thought hated your guts at your door, with flowers nonetheless.

"s-spencer?" you questioned, squinting your eyes as if he was someone else.

"h-hi, y/n," spencer swallowed. your eyes widened upon this revelation before you scoffed and swiftly slammed the door shut.

you ran to get the sweater on and over your head, but spencer had thought you were shutting him out. he thought you were turning him away before he even had a chance to express his feelings.

"please let me explain, y/n!" he exclaimed, banging on the door before you swiftly opened it again.

"yeesh, smartypants," you joked as you used to, a small smile playing on your lips. "i was just putting a shirt on," you said before moving out of the doorway, signaling him to come inside.

"i uhm... i got these for you," he handed you the flowers after you shut the door behind you.

"thank you," you pulled your lips into a tight lipped smile before sighing. "why are you here?" you bit your bottom lip softly, trying to refrain yourself from crying just at the sight of seeing him.

you sat down on the edge of the bed, patting beside you for him to sit down. you began twiddling your fingers in your lap, avoiding his gaze.

"i'm about to say something, and then i'll explain something," he said slowly, forgetting every single word he had practiced before coming into your room, seeing your face in person, viewing your smile, noticing you still wearing his sweater... giving him a glimmer of hope. "when you got caught by the unsub... i broke. i broke like i never have before, and i didn't know why," he sighed. "until i did," he reached his hand over to grab yours gently. "i'm in love with you."

your face shot up, finally looking him in the eyes, confusion displayed in yours.

"i've been falling in love with you for... who know how long. all i know is that i thought i had lost you, and crumpled without you. i can't do anything without you. i can't live without you. i need you," he said, tears filling his on eyes as you placed a hand on top of his.

"so w-why'd you tell me that..." you trailed off, your eyes gazing downward in fear.

"because," he used his free hand to grasp your chin softly, pulling it up to meet his eyes, "i was terrified," he moved his hand to cup your cheek. "i was scared about our friendship being ruined because i loved you, and because i was scared i pushed you away. i know that's no excuse, and nothing can excuse what i said to you. ever. but i'll spend every second of my life trying to make it up to you. please... just say you'll let me make it up to you," tears were now streaming steadily down his face.

"spencer," you took you hands out of his, leaving his hand on your knee, and wiped his face with both of them.

you leaned in slowly, looking him in the eyes to see if he understood what you were about to do. he met you somewhere in the middle, connecting your lips together in a frenzy of sentiment, longing, and passion. it was build up of every emotion the two of you have been harboring for as long as either of you could remember.

his hand on your face remained there, pulling you into him a little more. his other went slightly higher on your knee, now meeting your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze as your hands moved to the back of his neck.

when you opened your mouth for his tongue to enter, it met yours tentatively, slowly exploring every crevice, you doing the same. neither of you fought for dominance, allowing there to be certain kind of harmony to the moment the both of you have been dreaming of for so long.

you slowly pulled back, being sure to look in his eyes to see nothing but admiration and endearment in them.

"i love you too, spencer," you grinned softly. "but that doesn't mean i can just forget what you said..." you said before he wrapped you in his arms.

"i absolutely understand, of course," he sniffled. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. "don't leave, please," he begged as you embraced him by his neck, pulling his face down into the crevice in your neck.

"never again," you complied, feeling his smile against the skin on your neck, a slight chuckle leaving your lips at the sentiment. your hands found their way to his hair, running them though the locks gently. "wait!" you said as you jolted off of the bed to stand up. "how did you know where i was?"

"well..." spencer stood up and made his way back to you. "garcia helped a bit, and i realized that out of all of the places we talked about visiting, you haven't been to your favorite one yet. and because you're you, you saved the best for last," he finished as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him.

"penelope!!" you huffed, your arms locking behind his neck. "i swore her to secrecy an you broke her!" you exclaimed. "oh well, she lasted longer than i expected," you shrugged before leaning in to give spencer another kiss.

"yea, i had to confess my love for you to her first so she'd tell me," he whispered before leaning in with you slowly, you pulling back a bit at what he revealed.

"how many people know?" you questioned, playing with the hair on his neck and brows furrowed.

"well derek knows, garcia knows, i'm pretty sure hotch has a suspicion, so at this point most likely everyone on the team," he bent down to begin kissing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"oh?" you asked as he mumbled a 'mmhmm' against your skin.

you're breathing slowed down as he began to suck on the soft spot on your neck, a warm feeling rushing straight to your core you tugged gently on his curls, a soft moan leaving the both of your lips.

"spencer..." you quietly called. "i have to be there in two and a half hours," you trailed off, your hand now running through the top of his hair, all the way down, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers.

end of part 1 ;)

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #angst #hurt/comfort #criminal minds #spencer

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ch-3r-ry · 3 years

Text

03.11.2021

Food Log #32

Breakfast: Skipped

Lunch (496 kcal): ~ 1/2 serving of pumpkin soup (118 kcal) ~ one mini chicken sausage (61 kcal) ~ one mini soft pretzel stick (107 kcal) ~ 127g pomegranate seeds (95 kcal) ~ 117g blackberries (50 kcal) ~ 126g raspberries (66 kcal)

Dinner (525 kcal): ~ 129g cooked white rice (168 kcal) ~ one pan fried chicken leg (223 kcal) ~ 75g red pepper (23 kcal) ~ 2g spring onions (1 kcal) ~ 9g salted butter (46 kcal) ~ 48g homemade herb dip (55 kcal) ~ 400ml sugar free raspberry mint flavored iced tea (8 kcal)

Snack (381 kcal): ~ 2 strawberry oatmeal bars (137 kcal) ~ 100g pomegranate seeds (75 kcal) ~ 128g raspberries (67 kcal) ~ 250ml lychee dragonfruit smoothie (103 kcal)

Exercise (-205 kcal): ~ walking 7154 steps (-205 kcal)

Fast: 20 hours and 8 minutes

Total: 1197 calories

Comment: I was kinda worried at first but I guess I’m still kind of a pig within, eating this much was hardly a problem for me (˃̣̣̥ ∀ ˂̣̣̥) I already feel my stomach working and hope that this’ll finally get me over my plateau, I’m honestly growing sick of it at this point ;-; Also, the strawberry oatmeal bars I made are 69 cals a slice and taste soooo good; they could honestly curb my cravings for a pretty long time ≧^◡^≦ I’m working on trying new dessert recipes so that I won’t have to eat prepackaged sweets at all; it seems to be working quite well! If someone wants the recipe lmk ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊

#eating disoder thoughts #notprojustusehashtags #low cal ed #pr0 ed #ana meal #food log #just ed shit #low cal restriction #just ed stuff #tw edd

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ukulelecal · 4 years

Text

❄it’s the most wonderful time of the year!❄

so ya girl is in the christmas spirit, and since i’ve been in a bit of a writing slump for like. months lmao i figured a fun way to help myself out and also celebrate christmas and also celebrate me getting 3k (insane!!!) would be a fun lil christmas/winter prompt list!!!

so feel free to go ahead and start sending some requests in; you can send multiple numbers, and please specify what boy you want!! i probably won’t start posting them until after thanksgiving but perhaps i can get a head start lol. and if you want it to be dad!sos or something lmk that as well!! anyways love y'all and i hope you’re doing amazing pumpkins!!! x

“is this sweater ugly enough?”

“did you really get a stocking for the dog?”

“your hands are freezing!”

“you’ve watched rudolph four times today...”

“that tree is pretty tall...are you sure it’s going to fit in the living room?”

“how many strings of lights will we have to go through before we find one where all of the bulbs work?”

“if you say ‘i don’t know’ when i ask you what you want for christmas one more time, i’m going to scream.”

“are you responsible for the dog wearing reindeer antlers?”

“every year, i am reminded of just how much i hate snow.”

“this is exactly what i wanted! how did you know?”

“i know the wrapping sucks, but i hope you like it.”

“listen, i know this is going to sound weird, but i can’t show up to my grandparents’ christmas party without a date, so will you pretend to be my girl/boyfriend for the night?”

“don’t you dare put up a single decoration until i get home.”

“you’ve had the same song on repeat for hours...i’m begging you, please change the song.”

“are you sure you can’t be home for christmas?”

“i’ve got eggnog, christmas movies, blankets and a fireplace. come over and cuddle.”

“let’s go ice skating!”

“i cannot believe my flight just got canceled.”

“if you think i’m going to step foot outside in all that snow, you’re absolutely right.”

“i’m just going to stay home and eat all my advent calendar chocolates in one sitting.”

“no one should be alone on christmas.”

“you root for the sun when we watch ‘frosty the snowman.’”

“my gingerbread house is so much better than yours!”

“how did you manage to get yourself tangled in the lights?”

“i despise christmas shopping.”

“i can’t sing both parts in ‘baby its cold outside’ by myself!”

“‘last christmas’ gets a little too real for me sometimes.”

“i understand you’re excited for christmas, but please calm down for two minutes.”

“these cookies aren’t going to bake themselves, come help me!”

“looks like we’re snowed in for the night.”

“i thought we weren’t doing presents!”

“you call this ‘decorated?’”

“all i want for christmas is you.”

“aw, baby’s first christmas!”

“this is such a sad tree.”

“you really can’t cook, can you?”

“this has been the best christmas ever.”

“sing a christmas carol for me.”

“how long have you been carrying that mistletoe around?”

“this christmas, i’d like you to be my wife.”

“i need a christmas kiss. immediately.”

“you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“how does hot chocolate with extra mini marshmallows sound?”

“you can put the star on top.”

“why did everything have to go wrong on christmas, of all days?”

“you throw that snowball, you declare war.”

“you’re lucky you’re cute because i can’t stand that song.”

“aren’t you just santa’s little helper?”

“step away from the cookie dough!”

“merry christmas...you’re going to be a dad.”

#luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sos #5 seconds of summer #christmas 2020

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harry-styles-sunflower · 4 years

Text

Wandering Hands Part 2

Hellooo everyone! I hope you are all having a lovely day! SO this is Part 2 of Wandering Hands.

What it is: You and Harry become friends but you come with certain baggage that might make any other man run.

Word count: 6.4k

Warning: none really besides cursing? (lmk if I forgot one!)

This part includes more info on y/n’s past, a little bit of Harry’s and also some of his pov.

Pls reblog if you like it :) Thanks in advance for the support!

~~~

You had just finished your 3 am morning feed of your now one-month old baby boy. He was already looking chunkier and looked milk drunk. Your husband took him as routine to burp him. You were thankful he was able to get leave just before you gave birth and be part of Sam's first few weeks of life.

"y/n?"

"hm?" you were exhausted, half asleep already.

"if anything happens to me out there, I need you to move on," you opened one eye peeking at your husband. He was staring at his son intently. "he deserves to have a father figure in his life. Someone who can teach him how to shave."

You scooched closer to him on your shared bed and put your head on his shoulder.

"Don't think like that, and if anything, I shave my legs. Couldn't be that different." you kissed his shoulder. He was always so warm.

"Not just that," he laughed lowly, "other things boys have to go through sometimes only a man understands."

"Well, it’s a good thing you're gonna keep yourself safe right?" you touched your boy’s cheek lightly and then your husband's.

"Anything could happen, and I'd want you two to be happy. Just let me get adjusted to my grave for like a year." He tried laughing to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

"S-stop talking. My hormones are too messy right now." you said your voice shaky and you laid back down against your pillow. You felt him put Sam down back in his bassinet and hug you from behind, spooning you.

"Don't cry pumpkin, please don't" he kissed your cheek.

"Can't help it. You started it." you wiped your nose.

"I'm sorry," he kissed your cheek and shoulder, "Hey are those 4 weeks up?" you felt his smirk against your skin.

"Ugh get off," you laughed and pushed him off your shoulder to face him. He looked you in the eyes and kissed your nose.

"I'm sorry," he kissed you.

"Apology accepted." you kissed him back.

You remembered the memory as you sat in the Banzai parking lot. It's like he knew something would happen to him. You were nervous to meet Harry, even if he was just a friend now. A cute friend. You saw his car was already there. You were still in your work clothes. White satin blouse with high waisted beige dress pants and nude heels. You grabbed your purse and walked in. You saw him waiting on a chair near the entrance. He looked up from his phone and put it away when he saw you.

"Hey" he came and hugged you.

You hugged him back and breathed in his cologne while he breathed in your perfume. When you pulled apart you looked up at him. He looked a little different. His hair had gotten longer. Eyes brighter than ever, you liked his eyes already. You were forming a fat crush on him and you knew it.

"Hi,"

"You look nice," he subtly looked you up and down.

"Thanks," you laughed lightly, "they're my work clothes" you scrunched your nose.

"Beautiful either way." he put his hand on the small of your back encouraging you to walk towards your table.

"Thank you." you blushed lightly. He took your chair and pushed it in for you once you sat down.

"So how's work?" you decided to spark conversation since he was usually the one to always start one.

"It's good. Reading sci-fi manuscript. Not my usual cup of tea but this one is pretty good. How's work for you?" he said as he ate his clear soup. You stirred yours as he spoke.

"It's good. Mainly just trying to make it all enjoyable for them. Trying to think of a field trip to maybe take them on," you finished and ate your soup.

"Good teacher they have," he grinned at you.

"Thank you." you couldn't help but blush.

"So how's Sam? You mentioned he's at a friend's house?"

"Yeah, one of his close friends." you nodded. He nodded along.

"I'm sorry if this is too personal but um, does he remember your um your late husband?"

"No, he doesn’t remember his dad. He died when he was only two."

"Oh okay," you saw his face change a little, "I'm sorry I keep saying husband or Sam's dad, I just don’t remember a name or if you ever mentioned it."

You hadn't. You hadn't mentioned his name because there were times where you couldn't cry without saying it. You've literally probably only said it four times since he passed. And that was probably a lot. You were okay talking about him but saying his name was difficult.

"I haven't mentioned it. It's um hard for me to say aloud sometimes."

He nodded and put his hand over yours.

"I'm sorry for asking." he played with his lips with his other hand.

"Don't be," you played with his thumb with your thumb, "I honestly should probably talk about him more. I think I got too used not talking about him, only to Sam of course. But then again, it’s only when he asks."

He played with your hand with both of his, "Do you think it’s easier to talk about him if I ask about him? I'd love to help you."

You smiled at him, "I don't know where you came from. Why are you so interested?"

"Well um," he blushed, "when I first saw you, I thought you were beautiful and I guess your past doesn’t steer me off because um, my mum was in your position but with two kids. Not that I'm trying to be my stepdad but I'm not scared of it, and I love kids."

You were a little shocked but this revelation warmed your heart a bit.

"Michael," you squeezed his hand, "his name was Michael." you swallow the huge lump in your throat because of the fact you had to say 'was' before his name.

He smiled at you, "That was brave," you blushed and looked down. He picked your hand up and kissed it. You were getting butterflies.

"So, since I shared that.. Could I ask you something? You don't have to share."

"Sure," he gave you a grin that showcased his dimples.

"What happened to your dad? Biological one."

"Well first he left us and then he got sick and passed."

You nodded and apologized but he assured you it was fine. Your food soon came and you ate quietly. You felt okay. A little less nervous than when you first walked in. Your hands kept touching for the majority of the lunch.

"Does your family still live in England?" He nodded as he sipped his water.

"Yeah, my mum and sister are still there. My stepdad also passed away recently,"

"I'm sorry Harry" you rubbed his hand.

"It's okay," he smiled at you, "So Sam asks about him?"

"Yeah just like what were his favorites and if he did this or that." he nodded along listening.

"Your hair has gotten longer since the first time we've met." you wanted know more about him and talk about him.

"Yeah well I had just gotten a haircut that day actually and I'm thinking I want to grow my hair out a bit more."

"Very prince charming like." you smiled.

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"How old are you again?"

"30 too"

"32?"

"No," he laughed, "30 as well"

"Oh," you blushed. He was pretty perfect.

"Is it too soon to talk about the future?" your eyes widened. Seriously? Where did he come from?

"Meaning?" you swallowed some water.

"Meaning like are you dating other people? In general?" he shrugged.

"Um, well you're the first guy I've ever done this with again. The wounds were too fresh before."

"Oh okay. Well I mean, I've gone on dates before but not with multiple people at a time. Not my thing. I give one person all my attention," you nodded as he spoke, "So you're the only woman I'm talking to right now." That made you feel good or better.

"Are you sure you're ready for this though?" you didn't look at him too much. You felt him grab your hand and squeeze it.

"I am, and if you aren't it's okay. I'm willing to wait," you subconsciously rolled your eyes and he furrowed his brows, "what was that for?"

"Wait? Harry you have a whole life. You can't wait on me." you wanted to take your hand back but he held on to it.

"I'm willing to. Believe it or not y/n but I like you. A lot. I like your personality, I like that we can talk about whatever, I like the way you talk about your son, and you're beautiful. Which is only a bonus. You've made me go on about my feelings in a restaurant, do you believe me now?" he had a small smile.

You simply nodded because you were too stunned to say anything else. The waiter came with the check and Harry put his card in the small booklet and signed whatever he had to. You were quiet as you walked out. You didn't know what to say. It wasn't every day when a gorgeous man confesses feelings for you. You checked the time and saw it was 5:00 pm. You had to pick up Sam soon.

"Thanks for lunch it was nice, we’ll talk later." you said as you walked towards your car. Your pace was a little fast. Harry caught up to you and lightly grabbed your hand.

"Are you scared?" he looked you in the eye.

"No. Yes. No. I don’t know!"

"Talk to me." he put some of your hair behind your ear.

"I like you obviously but I can't help but think about my in laws, Sam, my family, and.. I can't help but think about him.. Michael."

He pulled you in for a hug wrapping his arms around your neck while you wrapped yours around his waist. Your head against his chest.

"I think it's time you think about you. When was the last time you did that? 7 years ago? Before Sam was born?"

"More like 10… before I got married." you felt him kiss the top of your head and you nearly melted. Everything he was doing was so comforting.

"You're too young to be thinking about so many people. I think you should just worry about yourself and your son. Just because you're opening your heart to someone else doesn't mean your closing your heart to Michael's." Everything he said rang in your head like a repeated song. He was right.

"You're right." you looked up at him. He held your face in his hands and pressed his lips to your forehead. He checked the watch he was wearing and looked back at you.

"Are you okay to drive?" he studied your face.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm um much better now thank you."

"Okay good. It's 5:15, I don’t know where Justin lives but I don’t want you rushing okay?"

You nodded and admired at how he remembered everything. You felt as if you wanted to kiss him but you also didn't know. So, you settled on kissing his cheek. He blushed and you found it adorable. He made sure you were settled into your car and he watched you leave. He got in his car and ran his hand through his hair. You were so captivating to him and he wanted to spend every second spending time with you. He liked you so much. He couldn't understand why he felt like he was falling for you so hard. He drove home and went to his small office. He had to finish a manuscript that night. He worked hard for a few hours before showering. He let the water fall over him. It had been a while since he held someone the way he held you. He leaned his forehead against the cold tile. Was he really ready? He wanted a family, he knew this, but this was an instant family. He wasn’t sure if you wanted anymore kids and he didn't know Sam yet but he might want a kid of his own. He finished up his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He heard his phone go off. He walked into his room and picked it up from his bed. You had texted him and he was instantly smiling.

y/n: Thank you for lunch really. Your words meant a lot. I needed to hear some of them specifically.

H: Anytime. Would love to do it again sometime.

y/n: I think I owe you a dinner. Maybe next weekend, Friday night?

H: You don’t owe me a thing. Where would you want to do it?

y/n: My place, I'll cook.

H: Homecooked meal? I'm guessing I'm not in the waiting game?

He felt nervous after he sent that last message. You could say anything.

y/n: No waiting needed.

He did a little happy dance. A little too hard making his towel drop. He picked it up and answered you.

H: Same here. Can't wait to see you again.

y/n: Me too.

He got dressed and laid in bed. It was still early but he wanted to just hang out texting you.

H: You got home safely?

y/n: Yeah, you?

H: Yeah, already showered and finished some work.

y/n: Lucky, I’m trying to get this stinky boy to shower. *Picture of Sam cheesing at the camera*

H: He's a really cute kid. He looks like you.

y/n: Thank you, did I mention he knows about you? He's a nosey pants and bugged me until I spilled on who Harry was.

H: And who is Harry? 👀

He bit his lip anxiously waiting for your response.

y/n: Well we had just met so I said a friend.

H: You considered me a friend?

y/n: Yeah

H: What about now?

y/n: A closer friend?

H: Fair enough. It'll change eventually.

y/n: Oh will it?

H: Mhm. Sure will. 😌

y/n: You seem confident.

H: I am.

y/n: I'm blushing??

H: If it makes you feel better, so am I.

y/n: Lies.

H: I don't lie. Something you should know about me.

H: Well unless it's a gift or a surprise.

y/n: Okay😊

y/n: What kind of food do you like?

H: Anything, I'm not too picky.

y/n: Spanish food okay?

H: Delicious.

y/n: I also have a talent for cooking Japanese food if you prefer that? (Grew up surrounded by Japanese culture)

H: That's pretty interesting. Since we just had Banzai, I'll say Spanish food is good for me next week.

y/n: Sounds good :) I'll text you later, mom duty calls.

H: Good luck!

He got up and decided to make himself a tea and watch tv. They were playing reruns of the office. He would never say it aloud but he preferred the American version. It expanded more on the characters. It was the episode in which Kevin drops his chili. He laughs, careful not to spill tea on him. His phone rings but he doesn’t look who it is. He wishes he did.

"Hello?"

"Harry?" he instantly rolled his eyes at her voice.

"How can I help you Mary?"

"Harry, I miss you."

"I can't say I feel the same." he sighed.

"Harry, don’t be so cruel."

"Cruel? I found you in bed with my best mate when I came home early to surprise you."

"It was a mistake and it’s been a year can't you just forgive me already?" he heard her voice change. This would've made him weak a few months ago, but not anymore.

"Mary, I forgive you because I don't care anymore. But I can't get back together with you. I'm seeing someone else now." he smiled as he said it. Not out of malice but from happiness at the thought of you.

"Who?" she practically yelled into the phone. He rolled his eyes and just hung up. She didn’t deserve anymore of his time. His phone rang again and he looked before picking up. Luckily it was his mum so he answered much more nicely than he previously intended.

"Hi mum," he beamed.

"Hi sweetheart. Just wanted to check in on you. I know you're a big boy but living so far gets my heart worried."

"Mum don't worry, I'm doing really good. Mary just called me and she couldn't even ruin my mood."

"Ugh Mary," she says with her voice full of disgust, "Forget her. How's work and the new place?"

"It's good. I like the town. The people are nice. Work is work. It's the same here as it was in England."

"Any new friends?"

"Um, well yeah actually. A woman, her name is y/n. We actually went on a date earlier. We talk pretty often and sometimes all night. I like her."

"A woman? Wow, so you'd say you're moving on?"

"Mum I've been over her the month after we broke up."

"And how old is this y/n? You know I'm going to want to protect you even more now."

"She's 30, um a widow and she has a son."

"What? Harry are you sure about this?" her voice changed to a much softer tone.

"Yeah I'm sure. She's so different. We have the easiest conversations. I feel like we're good together."

"Harry remember you fall a little too hard for people."

"I know mum, I know what I'm doing this time around."

"Okay. Well tell me more."

He spoke to his mum for another hour about you, his house, and when she was coming to visit. After he hung up the phone it was already around 8:30. He hoped that you would text him soon. He missed you already. Soon enough about a half hour later his phone dinged and he saw a message from you.

y/n: Hey :)

H: Hey, how'd it go?

y/n: It was good. Just had to review his homework and then we ate and I needed to help him with his hair. He's very tender headed so I have to brush with lots of calmness and patience.

H: It's hard to have curls. I don't remember why I want to grow it out again.

y/n: What's the longest you've ever had it?

H: Up to my collarbones

y/n: Wow, I can't imagine that.

H: *Picture of him with long hair*

y/n: You look handsome both ways

H: Thank you

y/n: Yeah no problem. Do you want to ft soon?

H: Yeah sure.

Harry waited for your response or facetime call. But it never came. He became pretty bummed over this. Feeling a little stood up. He fell asleep around midnight but was awaken by a vibration and bright phone screen.

y/n: Hey sorry I don’t know what happened to me I just fell asleep out of nowhere. I hope you get a goodnights rest.

He read the message and smiled before going back to sleep. Dreaming of a sleepy y/n.

Few days later…

You and Harry were talking almost every second of the day. If you weren’t it was because you were both working. It was less than one week before your next date and you were excited to cook for him. You and Sam were on your way to the grocery store. You really needed to restock your pantry. The weather was getting a little colder, just a little more wind. You parked and walked into the store with your son beside you. You allowed him to make his own list so you knew what he would actually like instead of guessing. Sam gave you his list and walked beside you throughout the store.

“Mami, can you make pumpkin pie? You make the best kind.” He looked up at you with bright eyes.

“Yes mi amor, I’ll do that for you.” You squeezed his chin lightly.

You two continued walking in the store and crossed things off both your lists, Sam occasionally asking you if he could try a new specific snack. You got your ingredients to make pumpkin pie and got everything else you needed. You two approached the cashier and you let Sam put everything on the conveyer belt. It was his favorite part of the whole trip. He did this while you bagged. After grocery shopping you went home so certain items wouldn’t spoil. Because of the colder weather you decided to make your pumpkin pie and rent a movie. You settled on Secret Life of Pets 2 and cuddled together while your pie baked. Once the alarm went off indicating it was done, you put it on a cooling rack and decided to order some Chinese food. You got one large container of Lo Mein for you two to share. You both laughed at the movie and cuddled. You savored every moment in which he let you cuddle him. You knew in a few years it might end. You felt your phone vibrate and you checked it. It was just an email. You checked your messages and saw yours never delivered. He did say he was going to work today so maybe his phone was off. You finished your night eating some pumpkin pie with Sam.

“Did dad like pumpkin pie?” he asked before stuffing his face.

“He did, he liked mine the most though because I never made it too sweet or anything.” You smiled.

“Do you think if I like your friend dad will get mad at me?” he says looking down.

“Samuel… your dad would never be mad at you for becoming friends with someone. Just because you may open your heart to someone new doesn’t mean you close your heart to someone else,” you kissed his head and thought of Harry as you paraphrased his words. Sam nodded at what you said, “and your dad had a big heart. I think he would want you to have one too.”

“He did?” he looked up at you with the same eyes of his father.

“Oh yeah, that’s why he went off to protect people he didn’t even know. Because his heart was so big.” You ran your fingers through his hair as he leaned against your chest.

“Do you have more pictures of him?”

“Oh yeah so many, do you want to see us really young?” he nodded and cleaned his hands. You went to your room and got the polaroid album from when you were in college and he was just starting off in the service. You put it on his lap and he opened it carefully. At a young age you taught him pictures were to be handled with care and to not be drawn on or ripped.

“Dad’s hair looks different than all the other pictures,” he observes.

“Yeah he had to have it cut low during that time,” you put your arm around him.

“Ooh,” he says as he sees a picture of you and Michael at your commencement ball, “Mami you look so pretty here,” he looks up at you with bright eyes.

“Thank you, pumpkin.” you held back tears as the nickname Michael had for you slipped out of your mouth.

“Michael and Y/n 4 e.v.a?” you chuckled at the way he read it.

“It’s supposed to mean forever,” you explained, “and it was.” You kissed his head.

“Oh okay,” he continued flipping through your album, “I think I’m done for the night. I don’t want to get too sad.” You nodded and took the album as he passed it to you.

“You did a good job looking at it hon, you get braver and braver each day. I know for a fact daddy’s looking down at you so so proud!” you hugged him tightly. You felt him smile against you and place a kiss on your cheek.

“So when can I meet Harry?” you were a little thrown off by his question.

“Um, when I think it’s the right time. I think that maybe I should know him for a bit first.” You explained.

“Yeah but like it’d be so cool to have another guy around,” he smiled at you.

“Yeah? And what would you guys even talk about?”

“I’d show him all my G.I. Joe’s and my favorite shows on Disney channel and my room and my rocks!” you smiled at him as he spoke.

“Okay, fair enough. We’re still waiting a bit before you meet him.”

With a sigh and deflated shoulders, he mumbled fine. You soon tucked him into bed and went to your own. You checked your phone and saw a text from Harry.

H: Hey, sorry we didn’t get to talk much. Hope you’re still up. (28 mins ago)

y/n: Hey, it’s okay.

H: Yay! You’re up! I’m sorry I was in meetings all day and received two new manuscripts. Both historical nonfictions. Send help.

y/n: Just so happen to like that genre.

H: Right… want to read?

y/n: Can I?

H: Why not? One’s on medieval England and the other is on the black death.

y/n: I’ll take black death.

H: Thank God

y/n: lol, won’t you still need to read it anyway?

H: I trust you could make corrections and I’ll just hand it in that way

y/n: Harry they’ll notice the different handwriting

H: Write in pencil and I’ll just copy it again in red pen. Or use sticky notes

y/n: I’m assuming you cheated a lot in school? 👀

H: Very rude. But yes I did. Just in history.

H: But I bet if you were my teacher, I’d pay attention 😉

y/n: Mr. Styles that is very inappropriate🙊

H: You dress so pretty I can’t help it😍

y/n: Thank you🥰

H: no problem beautiful 🤍

y/n: so uh, you know my “dating” past, what's yours?

H: nothing too long. Obviously some high school relationships, college flings, but the only one I would count as serious would be my last one. We were together for three years, we moved pretty quickly. She cheated on me with my best mate.

y/n: she's dumb to cheat on you.

H: Thank you😂

Y/n: Yeah of course. I’m sorry it happened. No one deserves that.

H: Yeah it was pretty bad honestly. Caught them in our bed 😬

Y/n: Yikes 🤭

H: I know

Y/n: at least you found out?

H: I guess yeah

Y/n: is this a reason why you moved out here?

H: yeah, I was also tired of London in general.

Y/n: I have a friend who says the same thing. She prefers living here. (Fellow teacher😊)

H: And here I thought I was your only English friend☹️

Y/n: how do you think I picked up your accent as English and not Australian or something?

H: I guess

Y/n: she’s from Yorkshire

H: Oh okay. I've been. It’s rural.

y/n: yeah that’s what she says.

H: Love, I'd love to stay and chat but I feel exhausted and I don't want to fall asleep on you.

y/n: it's okay! Get some rest handsome. Goodnight

H: Goodnight love, sweet dreams.

Friday…

You were cooking your white rice, beans, and salmon while hearing music. Harry texted you that he was on his way. Sam already had left with Lydia. You were wearing black jeans and a navy satin tank top when she picked him up. You had put on mascara and curled your hair while Sam napped after school. She looked you up and down before saying "you look nice". It shocked you if you were honest. You thought you'd be criticized and interrogated. You began making tostones when you heard the buzzing sound of your intercom. You buzzed him in, turned off your music, and you soon heard a knock. You opened the door and he was standing there with his arms behind his back.

"So you live across Joe's?" he looked at you with a confused look.

"Yeah.. Didn't really mention that the first time we met. Forgot to mention it afterwards." you peeked behind him.

"Well, I remembered you said you liked tulips and sunflowers so I got you both." he pushes a beautiful bouquet towards you. The yellow tulips blended in beautifully. "And wine" he shrugged. You smiled at him and brought him in for a hug. You leaned up and kissed his cheek before welcoming him into your apartment. He noticed the small pile of shoes by the door and that you weren't wearing any.

"Shoes off?"

"Yes please." you told him from your kitchen. You were putting your flowers in a vase. He noticed the picture of who he assumed was Michael at the entrance. He smiled sympathetically at it and walked into your kitchen.

"Smells good in here," he complimented and leaned against one of your counters. You were reaching for another wine glass for him. You only had one handy for yourself usually. He put his hand on your hip and got the wine glass.

"Thank you," you turn around. You two were fairly close before he realized and backed away.

"Want me to open up the wine and set the table?" he asked.

"Yes, please." he nodded and helped. You served yourselves and met him at the table. He walked up to you and pulled you into him before you two sat.

"Hey, thank you for all this." you wrapped your arms around his waist and put your head on his chest.

"Yeah of course," you answer as he kisses your forehead briefly before letting you go so you two could sit. All week you two had been flirting. Hard. You were assuming that maybe he wanted to kiss you tonight. Only because he had mentioned that he wanted to at Banzai but knew it was too soon. After that you told him that you thought you two had been talking for enough time. You both started eating and heard a low moan from Harry.

"This is really good," he said before sipping his wine.

"Thank you,"

"Who knew green plantains were so good?" he said as he ate a tostones. You chuckled lightly as you drank your wine. You spoke about your week and he remembered he brought the manuscript for you.

"Do you ever get tired of reading? Like is it less enjoyable now?" you asked. You leaned against your chair looking across the table at him.

"Somedays, it's like until a really good manuscript comes along that I begin enjoying it again."

"Is it rare?"

"A little bit yeah," he had finished everything. You got up and picked up his and your plate. "Oh, thank you."

"Yeah no problem, do you want dessert? I made another pie yesterday." you said as you loaded your dishwasher of your plates.

"Yeah sure, I'll try a piece." you served him a piece on a dessert plate.

"Whipped cream?"

"You guys put whipped cream on this?"

"Just a little bit,"

"I think I'll skip out on the whipped cream." he smiled at you.

"Okay," you laughed lightly.

You two ate your pies and sat in silence a bit after.

"You have a lovely place by the way," he looked around.

"Thank you, it's a bit small but it works for us right now." you smiled. He nodded and checked his watch. Did he have to be somewhere?

"Friends is on," he smiled.

"In person friends date?" you asked.

"I'm alright with that." he stood up and walked to your side of the table. He put his hand out for you to take and you did. He walked with you to your couch and you sat down right next to him. He put his arm around you as you set your tv up. Once you got the show on, you adjusted yourself and put your head on his chest. It was the episode with the w.e.n.u.s. Harry laughed at certain scenes and it made you happy. He was adorable. You lifted your head up and he looked over at you.

"What happened? Why'd you get off?" he was nearly pouting. You smiled at him and brushed a finger against his cheek.

"I rather watch you watch the show honestly," you said as you put your elbow up on the head of your couch tilting your body towards him. He faced you then and put his hand on your knee.

"Did you want to talk about something?" you shook your head no and briefly looked at his lips. You saw him do the same. You had butterflies in your stomach. You felt like a teenager all over again. So did Harry. He didn't want to do something that would mess everything up. You licked your lips as he looked at them. He leaned in slightly. You felt his breath against your wet lips. You wanted to rip off the bandage.

"Harry, just do it." he was nervous. He closed the gap between you and kissed you slowly. The butterflies in your stomach felt as if they exploded. His thumb simultaneously rubbed against your cheek as you kissed him back. You felt him kiss you deeper and you both moved your head to the opposite sides. You put your hands over his on your face. His lips were everything you imagined. Sweet, sexy, and they tasted like wine. He pulled away shortly and looked at you in the eye.

"Wow" was all you could say.

"I know," he smiled.

"Can we do that again?" you looked down at his lips.

"Mhm," he kissed you again and perhaps it was the liquid courage but you licked his lips asking for entrance. He let you in and you soon began exploring each other's mouths. You leaned a little more back against your couch and he leaned more on top of you.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," you kissed him again. He was addicting. It had been a long time since you felt affection in this way. He bit your lip lightly and you held back a moan. You put your hands on the back of his neck pushing him closer to you. He enjoyed this. It told him you were really enjoying this. He was slightly uncomfortable leaning over you from the side. He rather just lay on top of you but he wasn't going to ask you to do that. You felt his discomfort though so you pulled away. You looked at the way he was positioned.

"Are you comfortable?" You've made out over movie theater seats as a teenager before and that was not very comfortable. It was like what Harry was doing now.

"I'm fine love,"

"You look uncomfortable, I um I can sit on your lap if you want."

"I can’t ask you to do that,"

"It's fine," you pushed him back slightly and moved to sit on his lap. Your feet facing the end of the couch. You leaned in and kissed him again. This time you noticed he wasn’t nervous or hesitant anymore. His fingers tangled in your hair while the other laid on your thigh. You weren't sure where to put your hands so you settled them on his chest. You two continued making out like this for a while. You felt yourself becoming a little friskier though so you put your hand behind his neck as you leaned back towards your couch cushions. You pulled him on top of you and you heard a low groan. Harry was loving this. He loved the way you kissed and felt under him. He was trying so hard to not become hard by just your kisses. It was becoming difficult. You pulled away to catch your breath and he only moved down to kiss your neck. Holy shit you thought. Everything felt overwhelming, the good kind. It felt nice to be kissed again. He lifted his head back up again and studied your face. You lifted your hand up and brushed his cheek with your thumb. You offered a smile and he leaned down and kissed you slowly. These were lazier kisses now but you enjoyed them just as much. You both smiled a few times into the kisses. Holding back giggles every now and then at the weird and funny noises your lips would make against each other. At a certain point you both pulled away and just stared at each other’s faces.

"You're so beautiful," he said before kissing you lightly.

"You're so handsome." you answered back.

"I'm happy we met at Joe's," he said kissing down your cheek again towards your neck.

"Me too," you swallowed. You were already wet; this was just going to make the aching feeling in between your legs worse.

"Should I go? It’s late" he said in between open-mouthed kisses all over your neck.

"Funny you would think I'd want that," you said as you put a hand in his hair.

"So what do you want?" he looked up at you.

"To continue this," you said as you leaned in again. He kissed you back slowly but passionately. His tongue entering your mouth with ease. His lips were like honey. You wanted more but it was too soon.

"I'd like to continue this too," he pulled away.

"But you just stopped."

"Not what I meant." you two were looking each other in the eyes at this point.

"So, what do you mean?"

"I mean um.. I'd like to erm, continue dating you, and only you." he was so nervous you had to bite back a smile.

"Hm okay," you kissed him.

"Okay?" he looked down at you with furrowed brows.

"Mhm, me too. Would you want to be my boyfriend? Is that what you were trying to say?" You teased.

"Oh hush, yes. That’s what I was trying to say," his hand rubbed your sides.

"Then yes, I'd lo-," you coughed, "I'd like that, sorry" you coughed again. What the fuck was that? You almost said love? He was looking at you with knowing eyes but he didn't say a thing. Instead he turned your head towards him and kissed you slowly.

Part 3 is now up!

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #wanderinghands #wh

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