#was just havin a conversation with my mom and it did not go well

[allofuswantgwinam]

it terrifies me the way so many people keep living without even batting an eye about the genocide that’s happening right in front of our eyes. i will never shut the fuck up about this.

[somadatme]

Whilst the stories of her past had indeed followed her to Woodsboro, Stu had thought of them as nothing more than a new scary story to tell your friends over the bonfire. He didn’t like spooky stories, so did his best to avoid hearing about them. He hadn’t even made the connection to the ‘Raven’ in those stories being about her.

Her fashion choices were certainly like nothing he had really seen before. Not at Woodsboro High, anyway. The students tended to fall into clique categories on the field, but Stu’s clique was nothing like the others. Him, Billy, Sidney, Casey, Tatum, and Randy tended to just gel well together. They didn’t pay attention to the stereotypes that aligned each other’s characteristics.

It wasn’t until she bit her lip that he noticed her piercing. Damn. That was a bold move. It was essentially like she was wearing a target on her face. The jocks here would either have a field trip with that or would dig it. Which way that was going to go, Stu could not predict. He was surprised that none of the teachers had told her to remove it. Or maybe they had, she just didn’t do it. Signs of a rebel. Yeah— she was cool.

The sudden burst of laughter made his blue eyes widen, brows lifting in surprise as he grinned proudly. Wow. He’d actually managed to make a girl laugh already, and their class hadn’t even begun yet. He was on a roll today. Top form, Macher. Top form.

“Nah, it’s ok. It’s cool,” he shrugs nonchalantly, flicking the end of his pencil up and down with the pad of his thumb so that the tip tapped against the surface of his desk. “One thing to know about me— I’m the funny guy here. Ya need somethin’ to make ya laugh? Ya can count on me. I’ve always got a joke or two up my sleeve.”

At that, Randy - who was sitting in front of Stu - took the opportunity to lean back in his seat and turn and face him. Stu hadn’t even been aware that his friend had been listening to their conversation. Cue the smile immediately dropping from his face— he just knew Randy was going to attempt to embarrass him.

“You? Funny? Your jokes are never funny, bro,” he said.

“Wait a sec,” Stu began, holding up his index finger to silence him and peering down his own sleeve. “What’s that, Mrs Meeks? Randy was an accident and you wish you’d never had him? Huh.” Stu looks back to the other male, the smallest smile on his lips for a brief second before eyes widen in pretend shock. “Oh! Sorry, bro. Didn’t see ya there. Was just havin’ a conversation with your mom.”

“Why would my mom be in your sleeve, dummy?” Randy asks, genuine confusion plastered on his face.

“Because she’s a joke,” Stu replied, smiling proudly once more.

Oh yeah— he was showing off in front of the new girl. Perhaps Miss Grimm’s class wasn’t going to be so dull after all.

Raven couldn’t help but feel like a piece of meat under his gaze. Though it was respectful it was still something she didn’t like, being scrutinized like that, though she was also used to it by this point. Especially with the news of her kidnapping being so public—she guessed her family could never move far enough away to have those news stories not reach wherever they lived.

Indeed fashion was a way to learn about someone, her black pleated skirt, paired with pink and black striped knee highs, black and white converse, and a black shirt with purple and pink bats on it, paired with her black lipstick and purple eyeshadow definitely told a story. Some would say she was—weird or creepy. She liked to think of herself as eclectic and comfortable in her skin—well mostly? Not really. Though she tried to be.

At the question she smiled, lip piercing pulling to the side a bit as she bit her lip to try and hide it. Though it was no use, this kid was—hilarious if she was being completely honest.

❛Yes like a bird. Not many people have actually made that connection, at least not out loud. ❛

That last bit made her laugh out loud, a sound that was a bit louder than she had anticipated and she covered her face with her hands. Oh no—she had embarrassed herself in front of him by laughing. Not that she was embarrassed by her laugh—no, she just didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him.

❛I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you—but I mean I can see how that could be seen as lame or boring. But it’s the content that makes school fun—at least for me—❛

@somadatme continued from here

[hotch-stufff]

hiii 47 and 7 for angst hotch

i love ur writing btw <3

Drunk

gif by hoe-tchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: mentions of abuse, stalking, and death, past abusive relationships, normal criminal minds things, angst, crying, pining, but a fluffy ending

Promtps: Angst #7 "Are you drunk?", Angst #47 "You flinched"

Author's Note: Thank you so much <3, hope you enjoy reading!!

---------------

In hindsight, it probably wasn’ the best idea to get drunk at a bar. Especially alone. But you weren’t exactly thinking straight when you had stepped off the jet after a long case. And it had been a LONG case. Nearly a week of going through the same evidence over and over again scouring for a lead. Finally finding a lead, and coming to a dead end. 

The eventual lead that you did catch, led to the unsub already standing over her next victim’s body. At least you got a full confession. But you had been the one that had found the unsub. If that wasn’t enough, this case had already been hitting way too close to home. 

A woman was murdering victims of domestic abuse to “save them” because her mom was never “saved” from her father’s abuse. She had grown up watching it. Her victims had all had y/h/c hair, with y/e/c eyes. The same height as you, same style, just overall very similar. The only difference the team saw had been that you were never abused. At least that was what your file had said.

You had been able to keep it on the low for as long as you had been at the BAU. But you were terrified one of them would figure it out. That you would flinch at the wrong time, or you would do something to give it away.

You had gotten lucky and no one seemed suspicious. You ended up hiding in the back of the jet, curled up. No one bothered you. They all assumed that the case had just hit you harder. The one thing you hadn’t known though was that Hotch had been keeping a very close eye on you.

You two had become close, and would often hang out at each other's apartments. Spending tjme just talking about nothing and everything for hours. He had quickly become one of your best friends. You always went to him when you were upset.

But tonight, you just needed to get away.

Which is how you found yourself in this bar, downing your fifth drink. In the back of your mind, you knew that you wouldn't be able to drive home, or even walk without tripping over your own feet. You needed to call someone, and your drunk self called Hotch. While the phone rang you checked the time. 3 am. He was going to kill you.

“Hotchner.” You giggled drunkenly at his formal response.

“Why so serious bossman?” He recognized your voice immediately. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?” 

“M’great. Havin a blast.” You slurred.

“Are you drunk?” He asked and you giggled again.

“Mayyybe.” You slurred, concerning Hotch even more.

"Where are you?”

“Mabel's I think. But let me tell you. I think you need to come get me because there is no way m’drivin home.” He huffed as you heard noise coming from the phone.

“I'm on my way, stay there!” But you hung up. You were so excited to see him. Truth was you had definitely developed a crush for the man. Telling him that was going to be difficult, mainly because of your past, but also because he was your boss, and about 12 years older than you.

You waited for about 10 minutes before you heard the door ring as it opened and Hotch ran inside, frantically searching around. He found you and was quickly at your side.

“Y/n, are you okay?” You nodded sleepily. You always did get sleepy after your sixth drink. He gave you a concerned glance before reaching for your arm. You flinched slightly, but Hotch didn’t say anything about it. He picked you up because there was no way that you could walk, and carried you out to his car. 

“You’re staying with me tonight.” He had said once on the road. You lazily watched  out the window as buildings went by. 

“M’kay.” You mumbled. Hotch sent you another concerned glance. Something was wrong, but he couldn't quite figure out what. Usually when a case hit you hard, you would spend the night talking with him. He had been surprised when you hadn't shown up at his apartment. Even more shocked when you had called him drunk. He cared about you and it hurt him to see you like this.

Soon he found himself pulling into his driveway. He parked and quickly ran to your side of the car to help you out. He opened your door, and reached his hand over to unbuckle you when suddenly you shifted back. Your arms came up as if to block a blow and a whimper escaped your lips. 

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise!” You let out, sounding much more sober now. Hotch stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. 

“Y/n, it’s me, can you hear me, its Aaron?” You moved your arms from your face, peeking out wide eyed. You pulled your arms the rest of the way down. 

“Sorry Hotch. That was just, um, that w-was-” But he cut you off.

“You flinched.” He paused looking at the tears in your eyes, realizing that he needed to get you inside before you broke down in the car. “C’mon, let's go inside.” You bowed your head and nodded. 

“Okay.” You said softly. He helped you out of his car slowly, and walked you up to his apartment. Once there, you plopped on his couch, sobering up for the conversation you knew was going to happen. He walked in the room, a glass of water in hand. He handed it to you, sitting next to you. he waited a few moments before beginning the inevitable conversation.

“Y/n, why did you flinch?” He asked hesitantly. He didn't want to push you, but he was concerned and he wanted to know. So you told him. Every detail, every heartbreaking moment. The bruises, the scars, the hospital trips. Everything. The reports, the disbelief, the arrest, the divorce. Then the even worse parts. The escape, the stalking, the attack, the death. Every little thing. You could feel the tears falling down your face as you spoke about your ex-husband. 

Hotch sat as he watched the beautiful woman sitting in front of him break down. He didn't know any of this, none of it was in your file. He knew that Strauss had to know though, because you never would have been accepted without background checks and psych evals. 

His heart broke a little more every time you shared another detail. On one side it felt so nice to get it off your chest. On the other hand, it was weird opening up to Hotch like this. He was seeing so much more of you than you had ever allowed anyone since your husband. He sat in silence once you finished speaking. 

“Y/n. I'm so sorry. You never should have had to go through that.” And the tears came even faster, until they were silent sobs. Hotch, well he was more Aaron in that moment, brought you into his arms holding you tight, bringing you a comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay to cry.”He silently whispered into your hair. You looked up at him then, sighing softly at the beautiful man before you. 

“Thank you Aaron.” He loved the way his name sounded coming from your lips. But before he could tell you, he looked down to find you asleep in his arms. And that's how he stayed until morning. 

                       * * *

The next morning you awoke to a strange bed, with strange sheets, in a strange room. But one sniff and all you could smell was Hotch’s cologne. You soon recognized that there was a warm body behind your own, an arm wrapped around your middle. 

You almost didn't remember what happened last night, but once you did, you began to panic. What if he hated you? What if he was disgusted by you? He probably had just pitied you.  

He must have felt you shift, because he was waking up. His arm tightened around you, and he leaned up looking you in the eyes. He saw your panic and was alert rather quickly for someone who had just woken up. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, eyes scanning you frantically. 

“You must be disgusted with me.” You paused taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry Hotch. I ruined your night and then cried all over you with my pathetic life story. And you probably just pitied me. I'm sorry.” He shook his head. 

“Y/n, look at me.” You looked into his eyes. “I am and never will be disgusted by you. I am amazed by you. You are so strong and beautiful and you never deserved a thing that disgusting man did to you. I don’t pity you, not at all. All of this has just made me fall more in love with you than I already was.” You looked at him wide eyed.

“You love me?” He leaned a little closer.

“Of course I do. It's impossible not to.” You dared closer still as he moved a piece of hair from your face. The loving gesture warming your heart. 

“Thank you. For everything. I love you too Aaron.” And he sealed your lips. It was intimate and explosive at the same time. And in the most cliche way, fireworks exploded as you kissed him. 

You moved together passionately. Your noses bumped ever so slightly as he kissed you deeper than you had ever been kissed. He was an amazing kisser, to say the least. He broke away a moment later, smiling down at you. 

“Give me a chance to show you what real love is, what it's supposed to be.” You nodded.

“Of course Aaron.” And you kissed him again, sliding your hands around his neck into his hair. It was the happiest you had been in a very long time. 

So in hindsight, maybe getting drunk wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

---------------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If i don't get to yours, I'm sorry!! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[softboywriting]

Meet The Parents | Billy Russo

Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]

 Word Count: 3.8k 

 A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

---

The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.

"Hey sweetheart."

You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.

"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"

"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."

"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"

Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."

You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"

"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"

"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"

"She tried. Even sat on my lap."

"In front of her dad?"

"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."

You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."

He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."

"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."

Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.

You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."

"Bullshit."

"Your bullshit."

Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.

"C'mere."

"No, Billy."

"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."

"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."

"Always such a good girl."

"You like it."

"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."  

"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."

"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"

You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.

"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."

You smile innocently. "See you later."

"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."

"Love you too Billy."

"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."

"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"

"Being you."

"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.

_____________________

"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."

Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."

"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.

Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.

"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.

Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."

"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."

"Gotcha."

"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."

Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.

Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"

Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."

The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"

"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."

"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."

Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."

"Well you know I-"

"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."

"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.

"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."

"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"

Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

____________________

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.

Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.

It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.

The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.

It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.

The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"

"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."

"I'm sorry."

Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."

"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."

"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"

You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.

"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."

You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."

"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."

"You know it's a little true."

His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."

"It is."

"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."

You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."

"I know."

"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"

"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"

Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"

You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.

"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."

"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."

"T-thanks."

Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."

"If you can get a word in."

"I have my ways. Don't worry."

You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"

"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.

Your parents are still bickering.

"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.

"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.

Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."

"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.

"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.

You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"

Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."

Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"

"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."

"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.

"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."

Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."

You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."

"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.

Dad raises his eyebrows.

"Dad, don't start."

Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"

"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."

You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."

"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."

"Mom!"

"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."

"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"

"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."

You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.

"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.

"I'm s-"

"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"

You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"

"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."

"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."

Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"

"I think I already have it."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."

_____________________

Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.

You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.

The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.

"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.

You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.

Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"

"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."

"Grab me a bottle?"

"Sure."

You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.

Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.

"Hey."

You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.

"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."

"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm."

You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."

"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."

"Oh."

"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.

You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.

"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."

The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.

"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."

Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"Being here when I had a nightmare."

"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."

"Me too."

"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_____________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

[aka-indulgence]

Well I saw the self-ship week thing late??? But it seems fun, so I thought to participate!

This one’s for day 3-Playing Games!

(Notice: this will contain... FLUFF!!)

---

“ok ok, i’m on, can ya hear me?”

You giggle. “There you are! You sure took your time.”

“i told’ja, m’bro was givin’ me a… talk. ya know how he is. he knew we were havin’ gaming night and he said how it’s fine to game but that i should go to bed at ‘A REASONABLE HOUR.’” Sounds Sans’ Papyrus impression, and though it isn’t exactly the same, the similarities were perhaps, slightly uncanny.

And then in the background-

“I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU KNOW!”

“shut up!”

“Pff- oh my gosh, why are you both always like this??”

You hear the sound of shuffling, a far-away knocking noise… Sans had went to his door and was having a conversation with his brother, right now. A few scoffs from Papyrus, a couple of ‘rrrghhhh’s from Sans, and you hear the door slam, probably in Papyrus’ face, before Sans comes stomping back to his computer.

If you had been calling any other person, you’d be worried about their home condition.

“sorry ‘bout that doll,” you hear Sans’ voice after a heavy ‘omph’ on what you presume is his computer chair. “i swear, sometimes he forgets he’s not my mom… i’m a grown ass adult, i’m the older brother, i can do whatev’r the hell i want.”

You snicker. “Ok, now you sound just like a pissy teen… going against your mother’s wishes to play Minecraft until 3AM?”

“i-!! well i mean, we haven’t decided what t’ play yet! i mean… we could play minecraft if you wanna…”

His tone sounds bashful, and it reminds you of a kid trying to trick you into giving them what they want. And hey, you’re not gonna complain having some quality time with your boyfriend… currently far away from you. You do find yourself wishing you could see his face though…

As if reading your thoughts, Sans speaks.

“hey, uh… sweetheart… ya mind turnin’ video cam on?”

“If you turn on yours! But I mean… we’re gonna be staring at the game th-“

Your mouth closes when Sans’ face appears in the calling program you’re using. The room’s dark, the most light around’s probably just his computer screen, and maybe a desk lamp on his side? He almost looks ominous in the lighting, being a skeleton with glowing red eyes and a shark-toothed grin, but…

You find yourself smiling, getting to see his face again. Was it because you’ve been separated from him a while, or did he somehow become even more handsome?

“here i am. now turn on yer camera.” He demands, his teeth twisting in a bit of an impatient frown. “i know ya love what’cher seein’, but i’d rather it go both ways, too…”

“Oh, Sans!” You breathe a laugh, “ok, ok!”

You do as much, clicking on the video icon and seeing your camera light up. You see your face in the corner of Sans’ feed, and you kind of blush. The lighting isn’t the best here either, though the hotel looked nicer in real life. It wasn’t exactly flattering you and your face was slightly dark, but…

“oh wow. i’ve missed that face.” Sans murmurs, looking like he’s honest to god, stunned just by looking at you.

You automatically slap a hand over your face. “Sans…!”

“jus’ as cute as ever, too. actin’ all shy… c’mon, pretty girl, lemme see…”

“Sans, we’re supposed to be playing, aren’t we??” at this rate, you’ll never get to play anything with this flirty bastard!

Sans guffaws, headphones almost falling off his skull when he throws it back, but thankfully(???), he does get the ball rolling.

“ok, so, what’cha wanna do tonight? like ya said, there’s always minecraft… or we could bust out the switch and play mario kart… oh, ya said ya wanted to tetris right? or also, those… board games..? wow doll, after choosin’ to date me, i’d think yer taste would be a little bit wilder than this.”

“Oh shut up, classic board games are great! Papyrus always liked them!”

“psh, of course papyrus would like ‘em. i-“

Somewhere in the distance, “I CAN STILL HEAR YOU!”

“fuck off, yer listenin’ in on my private conversation with my babe!”

“Pfghgh- hahahah! Ok, ok, stop! I’ve chosen what I want to play first, I’ll prove you it’s fun! Let’s play find-four!”

You see Sans roll his eyelights, but his smile widens at you. “whatever ya say, doll….”

[thelastspeecher]

marriage of convince perhaps Ford finally getting the nerve to talk to his mother about the situation once he, Jimmy, Angie and Stan have settled down and are more comfortable with their current situation?

              Ford stared at the phone sitting in front of him on the table.  A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.  He looked up.

              “You need to call her, Stanford,” Angie said.  “It’s past time.”

              “I know, but-”

              “No buts,” Angie said firmly. Her hand slipped from his shoulder and she sat in the chair next to him.  “No excuses.  The kids are out fishin’ with Jimmy, Stan took the quads to the library.  It’s just you ‘n me here now.”

              “Yes,” Ford said faintly.  He put his hands on the table, bracing himself.  Angie smiled.  She took ahold of Ford’s right hand, interlacing her fingers with his.  The gesture was familiar and comforting.

              Ford was brought back to all the other terrifying phone calls he’d made to his mom.  News of delays in his education and career search, of marriage and children and divorce.  For each one, Angie had been by his side.  He squeezed her hand.  Still smiling, Angie squeezed back.

              “Call, dear,” she said.  Ford nodded.  He took a deep breath, picked up the phone, dialed, and turned speaker on.  With that, he set it back down on the table.

              It rang twice before someone on the other end picked up.

              “Pines residence, Caryn speaking, who’s calling?”  Ford knew his mom’s signature rapid-fire line well.

              “Hello, Mom.”

              “Stanford!  How are things in Oregon?”

              “They’re going well.”

              “Those kids of yours behaving?”

              “Yes, actually.  Far better than I expected, given the upheaval in their lives.”

              “Well, you come from a long line of survivors.  Makes sense they’d adapt better ‘n average,” Ma Pines said idly.  “So, why are you callin’?  I know you, you never call unless you have some sorta big news.”

              “You’re correct, I did call because I have something important to tell you,” Ford said.  Angie raised an eyebrow in a silent question.  After years of marriage, Ford could read her like a mathematical equation.  He knew precisely what she was asking.

              “Do ya want me to say somethin’ so she knows I’m here?”  In response, Ford shook his head.  Bringing Angie into the conversation would only delay him telling his mother why he called.  Ma Pines adored Angie and could chat endlessly with her.

              Which has been excellent in the past, but I don’t want to prolong this conversation.  Angie nodded.  She sat back, slipping into her old role of silent supporter.

              “All right, spit it out, then,” Ma Pines said impatiently.  Angie squeezed Ford’s hand again.

              “Do you recall what you said when I told you of my divorce?”

              “I believe I asked you it you were leavin’ Angie for another woman.  You said you weren’t.”  There was a pregnant pause.  “You’re not callin’ to tell me you lied, are you?” Ma Pines asked dangerously.

              “No, I-”

              “‘Cause if you lied to me, when all I did was support you durin’ your divorce-”

              “No!  Mom-”

              “Did you get this other woman pregnant?”  Ford looked helplessly at Angie.  “Stanford, I don’t like to throw the term ‘disown’ around lightly, but-”  Angie leaned in.

              “Hey, Caryn,” she chirped.

              “Angie!”  It was like a switch had been flipped, Ma Pines’ furor was so quickly replaced with delight.  “Sweetheart, how are you?”

              “I’m fine,” Angie said.  “I was just walkin’ through the room when I overheard this conversation.  And I have to say, I think yer goin’ down the rabbit hole again.”

              “But-”

              “There is not and never has been another woman,” Angie said smoothly.  “Please, let Stanford explain ‘fore ya jump all over him.”

              “All right,” Ma Pines said begrudgingly.  Ford breathed a sigh of relief.  He was able to handle his mom on his own, but Angie could always do it faster. “Explain, then, Stanford.”

              “I mentioned what you told me after my divorce because I have in fact found someone.”  Angie nodded encouragingly.  “But rest assured,” he said quickly, “I met him quite some time after the divorce.”  Angie’s eyes widened.

              “…Him?” Ma Pines asked.  Ford closed his eyes.

              Dammit!  He’d planned on easing her into the news.  But I was so frantic to dispel her misconceptions that I blurted it out!

              “Yes,” he said quietly, deciding to just get it over with.  “I’m in a romantic relationship with a man.”

              “I see.  Well…”  Ma Pines trailed off.  “I understand better why you divorced, then.  I knew there was more to it than what you said.”

              “Mom…”

              “Gimme a moment, Stanford.”

              “Okay.”  Ford swallowed.  Silence stretched on uncomfortably.  Just as Ford was about to say something to break the tension, Ma Pines spoke.

              “All right,” she said finally.  “I accept this.”

              “Pardon?”

              “I accept it.  I won’t deny it.  Honestly, now I think about it, I’m not too surprised.”

              “You’re- you’re okay with it?” Ford asked, astonished.

              “I wouldn’t go that far yet.  Gimme a few days.  I’ll call when I’m ready, and when I do, you better tell me all about this man of yours, okay?”

              “Okay.  But, ah, in the meantime-”

              “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to your father.”

              “Thank you,” Ford said gratefully.  “I love you.”

              “Love you too, Stanford.”  There was a click.

              “She hung up without sayin’ goodbye to me!” Angie said in shock.  “Wow.  She must be more shook than she came off as.”

              “Even taking that into consideration, her reaction is infinitely better than I feared.”

              “Yes, it went very well.”  Angie smirked at Ford.  “So well that she wants to hear about Jimmy.”

              “Oh, Moses.”  Ford dragged his hands down his face.  “Don’t remind me.”

              “I’d recommend havin’ Jimmy on that call so’s she can talk to him.”  Angie cocked her head thoughtfully.  “Actually, I wouldn’t mind bein’ ‘round m’self.”  She grinned mischievously.  “I have to see how she reacts to learnin’ yer new beau wears a leather jacket and drives a motorbike.”

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Five: Like Real People Do

a/n: hellooo and welcome to the next part of ybmh!! i am sooooo excited about this next chapter (and upcoming chapters😏 ). Thank you again for all of your kind words and wonderful feedback! It's always so much fun to hear from you all, so as always, feel free to come chat in my inbox once you've finished this next part. I have a feeling there will be much to discuss👀 Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content, mentions of drowning

Word Count: 5.6k

read parts one, two, three, and four

“I’m not going,” Alani says finally, discarding the outfit in her hands onto a pile on her bed. The clock reads 7:55 pm, only five minutes before she was supposed to be at the studio. She still hadn’t selected an outfit, but her hair and makeup were still relatively intact from her shift at the café.

“You have to!” Pua whines. “You told him you would!”

“Then I’ll tell him I’m sick or something—food poisoning. Period cramps, maybe,”

She begins placing the clothes on hangers to put back in her closet, but her sister reaches for her wrists to stop her.

“You’re just nervous,” Pua says calmly, getting eye level with her older sister. “But you’ll regret it if you don’t go,”

“Go where?” a woman’s voice calls from the door frame. Their mother, Estrella, peeks her head through the cracked door.

“To a party with a cute boy,” Pua explains.

Alani shoots an icy glare at her sister before turning back to her mom. “It’s not a party. I’m working on a piece about a local musician and he’s recording some music tonight and said I could go. You know, to write about it,”

Estrella nods, not convinced. “So why don’t you wanna to go?”

“Because they almost kissed—”

“Pua!”

“Hey, hey,” Estrella cuts in. “Mija, you’re twenty-two years old, I don’t expect you to stay single forever. If you want to go out and see a cute boy, you don’t need to lie about it,”

“But I’m not lying,” Alani defends. “It’s just… complicated, and I’m trying to be professional about it.”

Estrella steps away from the doorframe and envelops her daughter in a hug. “Sometimes, you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best,”

Alani is grateful for the piece of wisdom from her mother, feeling a small weight lifted off her shoulders.

“But if I were you,” her mom continues. “I would wear the black strappy dress with those wedges.”

********

8:10. Harry checks his phone for the third time in one minute, growing more disappointed each time the same three numbers stare back at him, almost mocking. He doesn’t feel any better when the time reads 8:11.

“Can I interest you in a piña colada?” Mitch pipes up, sauntering over with a glass in each hand.

The choice of drink seemed perfect when Harry had suggested it earlier in the day, but he deeply regrets it now. Despite the tightening at the back of his throat, Harry accepts the drink and chooses to nurse it in a different corner of the room. A part of him feels guilty for being such a buzzkill around his friends these days, and he wishes more than anything that he could just enjoy living in this moment with them. Being away from Alani had produced a strange feeling in him similar to the sickness experienced when leaving home on a long vacation; Harry didn’t know exactly how to cure it, but he hoped that lots of alcohol would do the trick.

When the clock reads 8:20, he accepts that she isn’t coming and decides to make the best of a shitty situation. He drains another piña colada and joins his friends who are huddled around various instruments and sound equipment. A few more of Harry’s writer and producer friends had joined the trip temporarily, and he’s grateful, now more than ever, for their presence—it distracts him from the overwhelming emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Jeff hands Harry a microphone and some headphones while Mitch plugs a white electric guitar into the amp. The guitarist begins with some chords that the crew has been messing around with for the past couple of days: an upbeat riff reminiscent of some of Harry’s favorite 70s rock pieces. His head is spinning mildly, but he uses the feeling as inspiration. He pinches his eyes shut and tries to let the lyrics flow, but the only words coming out are “she’s driving me crazy”, so he starts with that. The group also runs with it, adding a few yells and lyrics of their own. The song isn’t coherent in the slightest, filled mostly with laughter and choppy melodies, but it’s the best Harry has felt all night. He traded the piña coladas for a glass of tequila fit snugly in the palm of his hand, and true to Mitch’s word, the giggles emerge. At one point, he shouts the words “I’m havin’ your baby”, which makes zero sense to anyone in the room, including him, but they decide that it sounds cool and keep it going.

“It’s none of your business!” Mitch calls back, voice raised in his best soprano to mimic that of a woman. The shoddy attempt makes Harry laugh even harder and his hand clutches his stomach.

They continue on for what feels like hours, but in reality has only been forty-five minutes. At 9:05, Jeff Azoff heads outside to catch his breath and cool down. As he takes a seat on the steps, a yellow Ford Bronco pulls into the lot and Alani steps out once it's parked. She emerges in a black dress that falls mid thigh and a baby pink leather jacket, making her way nervously up the steps.

“Alani,” Jeff greets warmly with cheeks flushed. “Welcome. Party’s inside.”

She shoots him a grateful smile and reaches for the studio door, slipping inside cautiously. The music had been audible a mile down the road, but it’s even more overwhelming inside. Standing on a small coffee table in the center of the room is Harry with an arm draped around a shorter man wearing a black and white Adidas shirt. His dimples are on full display and his warbled words carry over the speakers to attack her from all sides. She recognizes Mitch hunched over a guitar and Jeff Bhasker spinning in an office chair, but she can’t put names to the other faces lingering around Harry. Alani feels extremely out of place, not knowing where she belongs in all of the chaos—it all seems to her like a living Jackson Pollock painting that she can’t look away from. In the middle of his off-key rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls, Harry’s eyes land on Alani and his smile grows ten times wider. He puts one foot in front of the other, completely disregarding the small size of the table, but he catches himself just as Alani lunges forward to help him. This results in their two bodies pressed flush against one another, the coolness of her leather jacket versus the warmth of his intoxication.

“You made it,” he slurs.

Alani takes a small step back and clears her throat. “Yeah. Sorry I’m late,”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” Harry shrugs, his eyes lighting up when he remembers something. “There’s piña coladas! In the kitchen,”

The fact that he remembered such a detail from their previous conversations and made an effort to incorporate it into this night makes her cheeks warm.

“Okay, cool. Thanks,”

Harry scans her appearance and his stomach flutters.

“Y’look really pretty,” he offers. Alani can tell that it takes every ounce of effort to do so.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice small.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them slip out through a side door and into the backyard, stopping just before the pier. Alani doesn’t know how much of these next moments Harry will remember in the morning, which makes her feel a little more confident to share what she’s truly thinking.

“Harry, I—”

“God, you’re so pretty,” he interrupts, running a hand through his hair.

Her cheeks heat up, but she pushes past the feeling. “And you’re drunk,”

“Yeah, true. But you’re still pretty. Always think so,”

Alani searches his eyes, which are sleepy and bloodshot, but there isn’t a trace of insincerity. In this moment, she also feels the overwhelming urge to be honest—about the butterflies in her stomach that only set flight when he’s around, and the way she constantly wonders what his lips would feel like against hers. But there’s an intensity behind Harry’s gaze, despite his intoxicate state, that stops her.

“You’re making this so hard,” Alani laughs lightly, more to herself than him.

“‘M sorry,” he offers. “Don’t mean to,”

She smiles at Harry’s completely innocent reply, not knowing what to do with all of the pent up affection she has for him. A part of her simply wants to scream in his face to stop being so goddamn endearing. Instead, Alani turns on her heel to put some space between them, but stops when she feels a warm hand tug at her fingers.

“Why d’you always do that?” Harry asks, his expression a little more sober.

Alani takes a deep breath. “Do what?”

“Pull away when I get close. Did it in the car that one time. And the other time at the beach,”

There’s a beat of silence where Alani isn’t sure how to respond, but before she does, Harry releases her fingers and takes a step back.

“Wait, that was stupid. ‘M sorry if I did anything—”

“No,” Alani interrupts, taking a step closer. “You haven’t done anything wrong,”

“So why?”

She releases a breath and swallows. “I don’t know,”

It isn’t the answer Harry is looking for, but he accepts it with a slow nod. Suddenly feeling the need to flee, he takes a step onto the railing of the pier and Alani’s heart rate speeds up.

“What’re you doing?”

“S’hard to tell,” he shrugs before letting himself fall into the water below.

“Harry!” she screams, heaving over the edge of the railing to find him. The drop, unbeknownst to her, is only six feet and he’s done it many times before.

After a few seconds, Alani sees him reemerge at the surface, shaking his wet hair out. There’s a small strip of sand along the shore below, so she bolts down the stairs to meet him at the bottom.

“What the fuck?!” She cries, panic welling in the brim of her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he deadpans.

“You could’ve hurt yourself,” Alani croaks, her limbs shaking. “You—you could’ve—”

Harry reaches out to comfort her but she steps back.

“I gotta go,”

“Alani,” he says gently, but she doesn’t respond. “Alani, wait!”

She walks briskly back to the front lot, Harry close behind.

“Alani, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t follow me.” she orders.

Her words are like a dagger through his chest, but he respects her wishes and stops dead in his tracks. Harry stands soaking wet under the moonlight, feeling helpless as he watches Alani disappear into the darkness.

********

She wakes the next morning with puffy eyes and a heavy heart, still wearing the same black dress from the night before. The warm water of a morning bath eases some of the tension in her muscles, but she knows it will take a lot more to soothe the tightness in her chest.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

Pull away.

Their conversation from the night before lingers like a nasty bruise in Alani’s mind, but she senses a bit of harsh truth in Harry’s words. She did have a bad habit of walking away when things got hard, especially concerning matters of the heart. Her instincts were all flight and no fight, so even if Alani had stayed, she isn’t sure how she would’ve explained her reasons for panicking. How do I gently pepper in the whole almost dying thing? she wonders, a lump forming at the back of her throat. Alani was only eight years-old when she nearly drowned, and though almost fourteen years had passed since then, she still vividly remembers the helplessness of sinking further under the strong tide. On nights after a particularly stressful day, Alani’s sleep is often disturbed by the sensation of her lungs slowly filling with water only to wake up drenched in sweat and clutching the sheets. She had worked hard for several years after the incident to overcome her fear of the ocean, but a part of her still couldn’t shed the debilitating need for caution. After all, it was easier to avoid the water altogether than to wade in blindly and get sucked under. Watching Harry sink into the unknown stirred the same sense of panic that Alani had felt all those years ago and threatened to undo her progress, but she quickly realized that it was the idea of losing him that had sent her into flight mode. She imagines the hollowness she would feel at the sight of waterfalls and the scent of vanilla; piña coladas—the drink and the song—tainted in her memory forever. The thought of Harry's absence was all too much to bear, but it’s how she knew that his presence must mean something. He meant something, and she couldn’t let him go.She ends her bath quickly and sifts through the first pair of clothes she can find. Suddenly none of it mattered: what she wore, how she looked, Rolling Stone—nothing but him. Alani thinks back to her mother’s words: sometimes you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best. All she needed to do was see him and the words would find themselves. The sky is overcast when she steps outside, so she quickly puts the top on Stevie and pulls out into the road, deciding to make one quick pit-stop before setting off to find him.

********

Harry’s head pounds and he feels as if the sun has been set to maximum brightness. His clothes reek of saltwater, his skin feels like sandpaper, and his mouth is the Sahara desert. None of this compares, however, to the sense of impending doom that settles in when the memories of the night before, particularly those of Alani, resurface. I’m so fucked, he groans. Harry doesn’t quite remember every detail, but he remembers enough; he remembers how pretty she looked, and reminding her of it. He feels the temporary warmth of her fingers and the coolness of her jacket pressed against his chest. There’s a bit of fuzziness between the Spice Girls and piña coladas, but then Harry remembers crashing through water and his memory gets clearer. He fucked up. He had upset Alani in some way and although he doesn’t quite know how, he knows that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. Harry sits up suddenly and the whole room spins, but he makes an effort to stand anyway. Need to see Alani, he thinks with determination, I just need to see Alani.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Mitch comments from the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee.

“What time is it?” Harry croaks.

Mitch takes a sip of coffee and checks his phone. “10:30,”

“And last night was…”

“The party?” Mitch fills in the gaps. “Yeah,”

Harry rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and takes a seat at the table. “Did...did you see Alani?”

“No. I don’t think anyone did, actually. Did you?”

“Yeah,”

“So… I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

Harry’s throat tightens and he hopes that she at least got home safely. He can’t bear to think about anything bad happening to her on his watch.

“No,” he confirms with a sigh. “No it didn’t,”

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” Mitch prods.

“Dunno if I should. She was pretty pissed,”

Mitch thinks for a second, taking another sip of coffee. “What would Noah Calhoun do?”

Under normal circumstances, Harry would be very amused by his friend’s reference to The Notebook, but right now he’s too focused on making things right with Alani. He devises a plan of action and stands.

“On a scale of one to ten,” he starts. “How shitty do I look?”

Mitch scans his best friend over, head tilting from side to side as he considers the question. “About a 7.5.”

“Good enough.”

Harry swipes the keys to the Cadillac off the counter and slips his feet into a pair of beat up vans before heading out the door.

********

The restaurant is fairly empty, as far as Alani can tell from the back. The kitchen staff are gathered in the break room for the time being, which allows her to tiptoe around unnoticed as she grabs the necessary ingredients for her peace offering to Harry. She hurries out through the employee entrance as soon as it’s complete and the key is already turning in her car’s lock when she hears a voice over her shoulder, calling her name.

“David?” she responds, turning to face the brawny man leaning against the car that is parked beside hers.

“Hey,” he starts, offering a flash of pearly white teeth. “I know I’m not supposed to be back here, but I just wanted to talk to you,”

Alani swallows, the icy chill of the drink in her hands reminding her of what needs to be done.

“You know, now’s not really a gr—”

“I haven't stopped thinking about you,” David interrupts, taking a step closer. “Since the other day when you stopped by. I mean, I think about you all the time but…” he trails off and Alani waits awkwardly for him to finish his ill-timed confession. David takes another step towards her and rests his forearm against the hood of her car, practically boxing her in with no escape route.

“We were really great together, don’t you think?” he asks, scanning her face with his prying eyes. “I don’t even remember why we broke things off,”

Alani’s brow furrows, her mind failing to come up with a logical explanation for this very sudden and uncomfortable conversation. She hadn’t lied when she told Harry that David wasn’t her ex, but she hadn’t been entirely honest, either. They had started hooking up during her senior year of high school—mostly because he was the star swimmer on their team that all the other girls fawned over, and despite all the attention, he had wanted her. It made her feel momentarily special, though she knew he wasn’t the boyfriend type. “Just a bit of fun” is what they called it, and the arrangement worked out well until Alani’s freshman year of college when she realized that there was an entire world of opportunities waiting beyond the confines of high school. A world that had brought her Harry, who was probably going to leave just as soon as he’d arrived if she didn’t make amends quickly.

“No,” Alani says decisively, nudging his arm away. “We weren’t ‘great’ together, we weren’t even good for each other,”

“Alani-”

“We were really young,” she continues. “And we did what we did, but that’s all in the past-”

“If you would just give me a chance-”

“I didn’t even know what I wanted for myself back then, let alone what I wanted out of a partner. But I do now,”

She doesn’t have to say Harry’s name, but they’re both thinking it. David steps back, arms crossed, and though he had always been somewhat intimidating, he looks small standing before her now.

“It’s because of that British guy, isn’t it?” he asks, despite the feeling that he already knows the answer.

Alani lets out a light laugh but she doesn’t confirm his suspicions. “We have nothing in common, David. We want different things out of life, you’ll see,”

“And he,” David continues, an accusatory tone on the word “he”. “Wants everything you do?”

She thinks for a moment, her heart pounding as she considers what Harry’s response will be to her confession. “I hope so.”

********

Harry had considered going to Alani’s house first, but he wasn’t sure who else would be home and didn’t particularly want his first interaction with her parents to occur whilst hungover. Sitting parked on the back road behind the café, however, he wishes that he had stopped there first to save him the painful sight ahead. Harry recognizes the other man from the restaurant he had taken Alani to the first time they had hung out, a name that started with the letter “D," though probably not the one flashing angrily in his mind. His arm is draped comfortably along the roof of her car, their bodies inches apart in what appears to be a very intimate moment. While he still can’t remember the exact details of his actions that had upset Alani so much, he fits this piece into the puzzle and it becomes much more clear. She has a boyfriend, and no amount of apologies could reconcile this fact, however tempted Harry may be to try. The word “boyfriend” sits uncomfortably in his mind, but it suddenly puts everything else into perspective. It explains why she fled his car so quickly when his wandering eyes had hinted their desire for her kiss—both times. He could have sworn that it would have happened had her phone not interrupted them the second time, but perhaps it had all been a trick of the rose-colored light. The sudden realization makes Harry feel sick, and a bit foolish, so he speeds off before he can be spotted.

He drives aimlessly for a while, mind still racing with the image of the other man’s depraved hands on Alani’s soft skin. The uneasiness boiling in the pit of his stomach is pathetic—he’s well aware—but he can’t stop himself from wondering why not me? It’s a selfish thought, but it eats at him, nonetheless. It should have been me. But the reality is that it wasn’t him, and it never would be. Despite any feelings he’d had that Alani was the one for him, he was not the one for her, and it’s a fact he must learn to live with. If this thought were a rock, he’d turn it over in his fingers until they bled.

********

Alani pulls up to the studio hesitantly and waits a beat before making her way up the stairs. She knocks twice, but there’s no answer, so she presses her ear to the door in search of any sound. Silence. There’s no trace of the cars Harry usually drives when she wanders to the back lot, either, so she figures that he must not be here. Alani racks her brain for other possible locations, but it’s a dead end. She doesn’t know what hotel or house he could be staying at, and her heart begins to race at the idea that he might not even be in Hawaii anymore. For all she knows, he could be on a return flight to L.A. or London, gone forever with the same instructions she had left him: don’t follow me. Alani lifts her phone with trembling fingers and searches Harry’s name, pressing the phone to her ear and praying like she had never prayed before. It rings three times before she’s sent to voicemail. The sound of his voice on the recording brings temporary relief, but it’s gone as soon as the message ends and she is prompted to respond. She clears her throat gently and speaks as if he is at the other end waiting to hear the right words and pick up.

“Hi, it’s Alani,” she starts slowly. “I, uh…. I’m at the studio. I don’t think you’re here though,”

She walks in small circles around the backyard and lets her eyes roam to the pier where it all went wrong. It sends a pang of guilt through her spine, but it fuels her next words.

“Listen, I really wanna talk—about last night. I shouldn’t have left, I know that now. It wasn’t you, it was me, and I know that sounds cliché but it’s true,”

Alani swallows down the emotion bubbling at the back of her throat and wishes that she could just see him, face to face, one last time. There’s so much more she needs to say, but it’s a conversation she doesn’t want to have with his answering machine.

“Please just call me when you get this. I wanna explain everything if you’ll let me.”

She hangs up and nearly throws her phone into the ocean. Though her trauma response wasn’t completely in her control and it isn’t something she should feel guilty about, she wishes she had been able to explain. Alani hadn’t always been comfortable sharing that part of her life, but there was a security in Harry’s presence that made her feel okay to do so. She wanted to share everything with him, the good and the bad, but she needed to find him first.

Only twenty minutes had elapsed at the studio when Alani decides to head out; there was still no word from Harry and she needed to be anywhere else beside the site of their potential last meeting. She drives with no particular place in mind, the windows rolled down to let in the chilly, overcast air. It isn’t until she’s halfway in the opposite direction that she gets the urge to visit one other location. There’s an extremely small chance that Harry will be there, but she goes less in search of him and more for her own personal wallowing.

When Alani pulls up to the lookout where the two of them had spotted the rainbow, there is another car already parked: a pink Cadillac. The sight makes her entire body freeze.

“Harry?” a small voice calls behind him. He almost thinks that he had hallucinated it until he reluctantly turns his head and sees a timid Alani emerging from her car. A million emotions run through his mind at once, starting with confusion and elation and ultimately ending in grief.

“Hey,” he responds, weakly, still leaning against the hood of the Cadillac.

Alani slowly makes her way over, not entirely sure that he’s actually there. Once she gets closer, however, she can smell the faint scent of vanilla and her chest swells.

“I left you a voicemail,” is all she can say.

Harry’s brow furrows as he tries to remember any phone calls, but he suddenly figures that in all of his rush to see her, he had forgotten to grab it from his bed.

“Left my phone at the house,” he offers.

There’s a brief silence where the two of them size each other up, weighing their own motives against what they assume to be the other person’s. Harry speaks first.

“Alani, ‘m really sorry,” he says gently, stepping away from the car and towards her. “I know I fucked up—”

“Harry—”

“But I understand now,” he continues. “I know why you were upset,”

Confusion settles into Alani’s body and she wonders how he could possibly know about her accident. Or if he didn’t know, what else he could be referring to. She doesn’t have to guess for long because Harry continues despite her silence.

“I saw you with him—your boyfriend, I mean. Derek?” he explains. “But not in a creepy way I just.. wanted to talk. Bad timing,”

“Wait,” Alani cuts in, her brain finally sorting out the pieces. “You saw me and David..today?”

Harry feels as if the knife in his chest has been twisted further at the mention of the other man’s name, but he nods. An uncontrollable bubble of laughter finds its way up Alani’s throat, and the sound would typically bring butterflies to his stomach, but it only exacerbates the heartache.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alani clarifies. “He’s delusional. And a huge pain in the ass, but I think he finally got the hint when I turned him down earlier,”

Harry’s ears perk up at the news, but he’s still wary.

“But you two were—”

“Ancient history,” Alani reassures him, taking another step closer. “He might as well be Socrates,”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of Harry’s lips and he feels a wave of relief wash over his body. The news is music to his ears, but he still wants to know what he had done to make her walk away that night.

“So you weren’t upset because you have a boyfriend and I tried to make a move?”

Alani takes a deep breath, knowing that she has avoided saying her piece long enough. Before she can start, though, a rumble of thunder interrupts her thoughts.

“Can we talk in Stevie? I don’t feel like standing in wet socks again,” she asks, which Harry obliges.

The two climb into the truck and settle in, the atmosphere quickly becoming more intimate than Alani had planned. His vanilla cologne has also become more perceptible in the confined space, and there’s a whiff of spearmint, most likely his gum, that briefly draws her attention to his mouth. She snaps her mind back to the conversation at hand and clears her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, reading his eyes carefully. There’s a faint reassurance behind the emerald surface, so she continues. “For everything that happened last night. You did nothing wrong, please know that,”

Harry wishes he could reach out and comfort her, but he gets the feeling that whatever she’s about to say is important so he doesn’t want to dismiss it.

“It’s hard for me, sometimes, to be around the water,” Alani continues despite the prickling feeling in her eyes. “Because when I was eight years old, I almost drowned,”

The revelation hits Harry like a ton of bricks and all at once he understands. He hadn’t even thought twice about jumping into the water that night, so it didn’t occur to him to rule that out as a possible offense. He understands now that he couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“And I know that has nothing to do with you,” Alani explains, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Except that it terrified me to think about, you know… if you hadn’t been so lucky,”

Her composure quickly cracks, a single tear spilling down her cheek before she wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater. This time, Harry does reach a hand out and Alani accepts it gratefully; the warmth of his fingers are a welcome contrast to her icy appendages.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he murmurs as his thumb rubs small circles over the back of her hand.

“But I do,” she sniffles. “Because—”

Alani pauses, unsure of how to finish her thought. Just do what feels right and hope for the best.

“Because I care about you,” she says finally, noticing the way his Adam’s apple bobs at her words.

Harry's jaw tightens at her confession and every muscle in his body longs to bring her close, leaving no inch of space between them, but he lets her lead despite his instincts.

"But it’s also because I care about you that I can’t let this go any further,”

Alani’s words surprise herself just as much as they terrify Harry, but she knows that it’s the right thing to do as soon as it’s done.

“Alani—” Harry starts, all of his worst fears crashing down on him.

“Please, don’t make this harder—”

“Don’t I get a say?” he questions, tightening his grip on her hand, though she still manages to slip away.

Alani runs the free hand through her still damp waves and lets another tear roll down her cheek. “What is there left to say?”

“How about ‘I care about you, too’? How about ‘I want to be with you’?”

“It’s too messy—”

“Everyone has baggage,” Harry defends. “God knows I do, and I would never ask you to carry all of that,”

Alani lets her eyes meet his again; they’re bloodshot and glossy, which sends a pang of guilt and sorrow through her entire body.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she reasons, this time thinking not only about her own issues, but about everything—the lies she had told and the ambitions she was still nurturing. She hadn’t given up on her dreams and unless Rolling Stone had suddenly changed their mind about the Joni Mitchell piece, there was only one way she was going to achieve them. Alani hadn’t yet reconciled the fact that she would have to put aside her own feelings for Harry to get what she wanted, but she knew that time would heal the wounds.

“All I want,” he continues. “Is a chance. And I know nothing I do will ever change the past, but two hands make the load lighter. So, please, let me carry some of that with you. Give me a chance,”

As she studies the pleading in his eyes, something stirs deeply inside Alani’s chest. She had started the day thinking only of him, but with selfish intentions. Now, she was trying to do right by him, having realized that she couldn’t have both him and the story that would launch her career. Something would have to give, and Harry deserved more than that. He deserved more than her. Despite all of this awareness, there is something else nagging in the back of her mind that she can’t ignore. Don’t walk away, it screams. If Alani ignored her true feelings for Harry and refused his plea, she would be walking away from someone who believed in her, someone who cared deeply for, and wanted to understand, her. Perhaps the universe truly had brought Harry for a story, but to be a part of hers instead of the one she had been so eager to publish. There would be other chances, just like Dr. Hudson had said, but there would never be anyone else like Harry. So with this in mind, Alani decides to stop walking away and stand still, right in this very moment, with the boy who shined brighter than the sun itself and who had only asked for a chance to make her happy.

“Okay,” she breathes and it’s like the weight of the universe has been lifted from her shoulders.

Harry leans in, their foreheads pressed together gently, and cups her cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

Alani nods and nudges the tip of his nose with her own. “Please.”

Their lips meet like electrically charged magnets, with a force so natural and strong it sends bolts of electrons through their entire bodies. Harry’s mouth is warm and gentle against hers, and the coolness of his mint gum soothes the searing touch of his kiss. Alani’s fingers glide up his chest and along the sides of his neck, pulling him closer as if he’s the anchor keeping her from floating away into the dark clouds above them. Over and over again, their lips collide fervently, breaths mixing and filling each other’s lungs. Their hands eagerly explore the curves of each other’s faces, the softness of hair, and the occasional heat of exposed skin. Harry is the first to break the kiss, panting lightly as he pulls back to search Alani’s face.

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Never been better.”

next chapter

[hotchscotchh]

The Milk Cooler

Hey y’all! I’m not sure how much I like this one, I also have absolutely no idea where the idea for it came from lmao

Summary: Spencer meets a strange man from the other side of the milk cooler

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Warnings: FLUFF

Word count: 1.5k

Read on AO3

Spencer Reid absolutely, positively, hated his job. It wasn’t that he wanted to work here, he just needed the money and nowhere else was hiring. Now, he wasn’t worried about paying for his classes at Georgetown, he was worried about being able to keep him mom in the Bennington Sanitarium in Las Vegas. Spencer often had a hard time believing he allowed himself to move so far away from his mother and his hometown. Though he didn’t have many good memories of the town, he often found himself missing the warm weather and going into the city to outsmart anyone he could at the casinos. 

Anyway, Spencer had found himself working at a local grocery store that was only a few blocks away from his current apartment. The work was seemingly meaningless busywork. But, if he was making money, he was making money. And that’s what mattered, right? Spencer had just turned 20 last week. He finished his second doctorate, which was in chemistry, the month before. He already had one in math and was about to begin a third in engineering. He also had a few bachelor’s degrees under his belt and was now working on one in psychology. He had big dreams of working the FBI’s renowned Behavior Analysis Unit. His mother was always good at reading people and it was a skill he had gratefully picked up. 

Spencer’s favorite task at the grocery store had always been and will always be restocking the milk cooler. When he was doing that, he didn’t have to face any other people. Spencer had tried being a cashier for a while, but he was just too socially awkward to be able to interact with that amount of people on a daily basis. So, his manager decided he would be better off stocking shelves. This made Spencer’s life a little easier and a lot less stressful. The work was easy, mindless, he could let his mind wander and not be seen as crazy for just thinking and not responding to things around him. He had to talk to a lot less people this way. Sure, the odd person would ask him for help finding something sometimes, and of course he would help them. He didn’t mind little interactions like that. 

Spencer’s world was spun on its axis one day while he was stocking the milk cooler. He never had to interact with people while he was there. But one day, he noticed there was an entire row of half-gallon bottles of whole milk empty. He silently thanked the workers from the shift before, as it gave him an excuse to be in the cooler for longer than normal. It took him a few minutes to locate the half-gallons, but when he did, he set right to work. As soon as he had set the first carton of milk in the slot, the cooler door opened, and a hand reached in to take it out. Spencer didn’t notice this and jumped when the next carton slid all the way to the front of the slot.

 “Well, hello in there,” a deep voice said from the other side. 

“Uh, h-hi,” Spencer stuttered out, shocked that the strange man had noticed he was in there. 

“Havin’ fun back there?”

Spencer gave a breathy laugh. The voice was attractive, and he was unusually flustered by it. “Sure,” he replied, “If you consider picking up on your coworker’s slack fun.”

It was the other man’s turn to laugh. Spencer shifted his position, wondering if he could get a good look at the mysterious man who was talking to him through a milk cooler. “Tryna get a look at me, Pretty Boy? I can see you back there.”

Spencer jumped. “Um, n-no, just uh… trying to get back to work,” he managed to sputter out. He reached up to place another carton of milk in the slot. The man on the other side chuckled and reached out to grab Spencer’s hand softly. “I’ll see you around, Pretty Boy.”

The milk door closed. Spencer tried to shake off the interaction and get back to work, but he ended up being flustered and distracted for the rest of his day.

----

Derek Morgan also happened to be a student at Georgetown. He didn’t have three PhD’s and two BA’s though. He was just working on a bachelor’s in psychology. So, when he went to get a half-gallon of whole milk from the grocery store, he was surprised to find the cute little quiet boy that sat in the back of his psych class stocking the cooler. Derek kind of had a thing for the boy, not that he would admit it. He’d never even spoken to the kid (he didn’t even know his name!), and before today, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t. But after that encounter, how could he not? The kid had been so flustered, just by the little not-even-a-conversation conversation they had. Derek wanted to see him blush in full light, and not half hidden by the shelves in the cooler. He decided that night that he would not go another day without properly talking to this kid.

----

The next morning, Derek got to class early, hoping the boy would already be there and he could talk to him for a minute or two. He wasn’t surprised to see that Spencer was the only one in the room, even before the professor. He slid into the seat next to him. Spencer was lost in a book and didn’t hear the door opening or the man sliding into the seat beside him.

“Good morning, Pretty Boy,”

 Derek said quietly, smirking. Spencer jumped, again, and looked over at Derek, finally realizing that there was someone else in the room. “I- what? Pretty Boy?”

“You seemed to like it when I called you that from the other side of the milk cooler last night.”

Spencer’s eyes widened and he blushed a furious shade of red. “That was you? Wait you, someone who looks like, well, that, thinks I am pretty?”

Derek chuckled. “Sure thing, Pretty Boy. Do you have a pretty name to go with your pretty face?”

“I’m not pretty,” Spencer insisted. “But my name is Spencer.”

“Oh, you definitely are pretty. It’s almost a crime that anyone would let you think otherwise. My name’s Derek. Any chance you would want to get coffee with me after class?”

“I’d love to Derek, but I have plans to go sit in on Alex Blake’s linguistics lecture. Unless you want to come with me, that is.” Spencer couldn’t believe how easily the words were flowing from his mouth. He had never been able to speak to someone like this before. There was something about the way Derek looked at him that put him at ease.

“That sounds wonderful, Spencer.” Spencer blushed redder, if that was even possible, and ducked his head. Their professor starting his lecture ended their conversation. 

----

An hour and a half later, Spencer found himself sitting in a coffee shop with two caramel lattes and Derek Morgan in front of him. He still couldn’t believe that someone that looks like Derek Morgan would be attracted to someone that looks like him.

 Derek pulled him out of his thoughts by saying, “so, what are you studying at Georgetown?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Spencer replied with a small giggle. “I have two PhD’s, one in mathematics and one in chemistry, I’m starting one in engineering next week. I also have a couple odd BA’s, and obviously I’m working on my psych one right now.”

 “What are you, some kind of genius?”

Their conversation continued like this until their lattes were gone, and then some. Derek asked Spencer if he could walk him home. Spencer blushed and nodded. When they made it out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his.

“This okay, Pretty Boy?” Spencer nodded again and squeezed Derek’s hand. 

They walked the few blocks back to Spencer’s apartment building in silence, enjoying the company and the beautiful day, only stopping when they reached Spencer’s door. 

“I’d love to do this again sometime, Derek,” Spencer said, surprising himself. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote his phone number on Derek’s arm. 

When he was done writing, he looked back up at Derek and gave a big grin, proud of himself. Derek reached his hand up to Spencer’s face and cradled one cheek. 

Spencer leaned into the touch. Derek came a step closer. “Can I kiss you?” Instead of giving an answer, Spencer leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s, giving him a soft, chaste kiss. “No more until you call me,” Spencer said after he pulled away, slipping into his apartment and leaving a shocked Derek Morgan outside. 

Taglist: @peachpitfics @wheelsup @endingsbeginnings​ @ssa-kassidyhughes​ @criminalmindsfan13​ 

[mistymazzello]

Illicit Affairs | part one

Joe Mazzello x reader

summary- Y/N, a failing actress in New York City, is offered an internship as Joe Mazzello’s assistant on the set of a movie. Her seemingly small crush on her boss could get her into trouble, but what does she have to lose?

warnings- cussing

word count- 3.7

a/n- i’m sorry i promised this like 2 months ago and i’m just now posting it, but i’m so excited for you guys to read this!! please let me know what you think and if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

based on illicit affairs by taylor swift

You were finally starting to understand what people meant when they said “New York Minute”. It might seem like a silly phrase people use to describe when time is going fast, but now you’re sure that time is going faster than usual as you ran down the busy New York streets. You quickly wove through people as rain pounded on your hair and your brand new outfit, but you had no time to worry about your now drenched blouse. You were on the verge of tears as you ran down the steps to the subway, checking the time to see that you had 19 minutes.

You fished through your purse to retrieve your metrocard, shivering from the surprisingly freezing august rain. You swiped the card and the machine let out a loud beep at you. The card was declined. With only 18 minutes until your audition, tears finally began to well in your eyes.

“Please no. Please not now.” You groaned out loud, swiping the card again only to get the same result. “Please please please just work.” You whined.

“Havin’ some trouble there?” A man standing behind you observed.

You laughed sarcastically and tried the card again. “Yeah, seems like it. I think the universe just hates me today.”

“Maybe try swiping it the other way?” He wondered.

You tried. Nothing.

You groaned and put your face in your hands. “This isn’t happening.”

“Hey, sweetheart, calm down.” He reached forward and swiped his own card twice. “See? All good.”

The small gate opened and he gestured for you to walk through. Your eyes softened and you sighed lightly. “Thank you.” He nodded as you walked through. “You didn’t need to do that.” You said as he walked through to join you on the other side. You crossed your arms as your hair dripped onto your shoulders, causing you to shiver again.

“I think I did, you were holding up the line.” He joked with a smile on his face. “I’m Joe.”

You let out a small laugh as you turned towards him. “Y/N.” You stated.

“Well, Y/N, your fucking soaked.” He laughed.

You nodded and looked down at your clothes. “I’m gonna have to go into an audition looking like this.”

He looked your body up and down and then met your eyes again. You watched as he began to take his jacket off of his shoulders.

“You don’t have to do that, seriously.” You stated.

He pulled the jacket fully off of himself and held it out to you. “Well I’m going to. Here.”

You gave him a small smile and took it from his hands. Slowly putting the jacket on, you looked at him. “It’s weird meeting a nice New Yorker.”

“Rare, I know.” He laughed.

You pulled the jacket over your shoulders and wrapped it tightly around your waist.

“Better?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You hummed. “I’m like, never gonna see you again, are you sure you wanna give this to me?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Your train was announced over the loudspeaker and you screwed your eyes shut.

“Shit, I’m sorry I have to go!” You said, backing up quickly.

“Good luck!” He shouted back, watching you disappear into the distance, a small part of him wishing he was 10 years younger so he could ask you for your number without seeming like a creep.

The second you turned around, you wished you had just ditched the audition and taken the same train as him, giving yourself 15 extra minutes with him. New York is a big city, and you knew you’d never see him again, but you couldn’t help but hope that there was some kind of invisible string that will pull the two of you back together. A small smile rested on your lips as you boarded the train, trying to remember the exact details of his face. Taking a seat, you drew in a breath, subconsciously wrapping the jacket tighter around your waist. Usually, you would find it weird and uncomfortable if a random stranger paid for your train ride and gave you his jacket, but something about him made you feel comforted and safe.

You soon realized that skipping the audition to stay with him would have been a much better decision. The audition lasted maybe 90 seconds, ending with a blunt, “That’s all we need, thank you.” It wasn’t much different from any of your other auditions, nobody showing any real interest in you. There’s hundreds-maybe even thousands-of girls who are in your exact situation. An aspiring actress using money she doesn’t have to stay in New York, no real roles to your name, struggling to keep your head above water. After graduating from NYU the previous year, you thought that this would be your time, but it’s anything but that.

By the time you arrived back at your apartment it had stopped raining. You were relieved to be back to the comfort of your bed, ready to go straight back to sleep (maybe in Joe’s jacket) but the second you walked in the door, your phone began ringing. It was your dad. You didn’t even have to pick up the phone to know what he was going to say. “What are you doing today?” “Do you have a job yet?” “What are you gonna do with your life? I can’t pay for your apartment forever.”

You couldn’t even be mad, either. He paid for your share of the rent in your preppy uptown apartment. He also sent you money weekly, claiming it’s to help you until you’re able to “Get on your feet.” You didn’t think it’d be taking over a year long to get there. Despite being upset about your career choice, and the fact that he could get you a perfect, well paid job at his company in a few cities over, he wanted his little girl to be happy.

I mean, who else was gonna pay for you to live in the most expensive city in the country? Your failed auditions?

With an over-dramatic sigh, you answered the phone. “Hi dad.”

“Hello Y/N. Whatcha doing?” He said.

“I just got back from an audition.” You said, walking into the living room, the eyes of your roommates Cameron and Jessica immediately falling on you, perking up as you set your bag down on the table.

“How’d it go?” Jessica asked excitedly.

“Whose jacket is that?” Cameron shouted.

You furrowed your eyebrows and pointed to your phone, both of them sinking back down into their seats.

“And how was that?” He asked.

“It was… okay. Not exactly how I wanted it to go.”

“Seems like that’s how they’ve all been going.” He said. You just knew he had a disappointed frown on his face. It almost made you wince.

“I mean, I think I’m gonna get there, dad.” You stepped into your room and shut the door behind you.

There was a silence on the line. “I don’t know, Y/N. I hate to be the wet blanket on your big city dreams but I think you’re being unrealistic. You should come back home and I can get you a job here in 5 seconds. I just-”

“Dad, we’ve had this conversation. I’m staying here.” You said, stuffing your hands into the jacket pockets. You pulled out a gum wrapper and a few quarters. It almost made you giggle.

“On my dime?” He shot back.

Your shoulders slumped and you sighed. “Nobody’s forcing you to pay for me.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s gonna pay for you if I don’t? Certainly not yourself.”

Now you were embarrassed. “Dad… Can you please just trust me? I’ll get on my feet, I don’t know, soon, okay?”

He sighed. “6 more months.” He said.

“What?” You asked.

“I’ll pay for you for 6 more months. If you don’t have some source of income by then, you're coming home and working here.” He knew that paying for you to live in the city wasn’t a financial burden for him, he owned a company. But, he wanted you to learn how to do things yourself, and he knew if he kept spoon feeding you through life, that you would never get there.

A bit taken back, you registered that there were no other options. “Okay. That seems… fair.”

“It’s not what I want to do, honey, but I want you to be productive. To do something with yourself.”

That stung.

“Okay.” You closed your eyes.

“Alright. I’ve got a meeting, so I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, bye dad.”

You set your phone down on your bed and set your chin on your elbow. You had better think of a better plan than going to an audition every week if you wanted to stay here. “Shit.” You mumbled.

Cameron burst into your room and you looked up at her. “Whose jacket is that?” She asked again.

“Nice to see you too, Cam.” You raised your eyebrows.

Cameron was a bold person. You had met in college, and you immediately clinged to each other’s sides. You grounded her, and she pushed you out of your comfort zone. Cameron was also kind of scary. You had seen what she’d done to people she didn’t like, how she’ll step on people to get where she wants. You’re just glad she likes you.

“Sorry, how was the audition?” She said, pushing the door fully open and leaning on your door frame.

You sighed and set your forehead in your palm.

“Oh, well.” She said, getting the message.

She came and sat on the bed next to you. “So… Now can I ask about the jacket.” She asked softly.

“Some random guy on the subway. It was raining and I was cold, so he offered it to me.”

“Ew! What if it has a tracking device or something in it?” Jessica asked, walking in the room.

Jessica came into the picture Junior year of college. She fit in perfectly between the two of you, bringing some sort of responsibility to the group. She was the stereotypical mom friend, but you loved her for it.

“Was he hot?” Cam asked. The difference in reaction made you chuckle.

“It was just some nice guy. We talked for like 20 seconds.” You stated.

“Did you get his number?” Cam asked.

“No, Cam, he was way older than me.” You said.

“Why does that matter?”

You flopped back onto your bed and sighed, the other two girls exchanging looks as you covered your face with your arms.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica asked as she walked over to sit on the other side of you.

“Nothing, I just… My dad. He says I need a job or else he’s gonna cut me off.” You said, flopping your arms down by your sides.

“Yikes.” Cam said.

“What’re you gonna do?” Jess asked.

“Get a fucking job I guess. What other choice do I have?”

They were both silent as you checked the time on your phone. It was still way early in the morning. “Guys, I think I’m gonna go back to sleep.” You said.

“Alright, babe. I have an audition at 11, so I probably won’t be here when you wake up.” Cam patted your leg.

You nodded. Cameron had already established herself as an actress. She mostly does theatre, but she did do an episode of Law and Order and a few smaller parts in other tv shows. You tried not to be jealous, but in situations like this, you couldn’t really help it.

“I have work too. I’ll be back at 4 though.”  Jessica said. She worked as a journalist for a magazine, making way more money than either of you, so it made sense to be jealous.

“Ivy’s here though, don't know if she’s leaving or not.” Cameron said. Ivy was the fourth roommate, who wasn’t friends with any of you when she moved in. She needed a place to live and you guys needed one more roommate.

She was really reserved, and she didn’t talk to any of you much. This bothered Cameron, since she’s a chatter-box, but there wasn’t much anyone could do. She was going to business school in the city, so she was a few years younger than the three of you, but she didn’t start problems, so nobody paid too much mind to her. Coming up on a year of living with her, and you didn’t really know much about her.

You nodded and climbed under your comforter, still in the jacket and your audition clothes. The two girls stood up and walked out, Jessica turned off the light before she blew you a kiss and left.

Within minutes, you passed out. You woke up a few hours later to your phone ringing. Groaning, you picked it up.

“Y/N!” Cam shouted.

“What?” You said, sitting up in bed, all at once realizing how uncomfortable your pants and blouse were. Why did you sleep in these again?

“Okay, so I was at this audition right, and they’re like, ‘You’re so great but you just don’t have the look we’re going for for this role.’” She said. You could hear cars, horns, and the general bustle of the city in the background, so you assumed she was on her way home.

You ignored her subtle brag as you got out of bed to change. You put the phone on speaker and set it on your night stand as you slowly began to undress.

“And so then they were like ‘but, we love you so much, would you be interested in a paid internship as a film director assistant?’ And I would have done it except the 2 of the 5 months that it lasts for, I’m working on that off broadway production, you know the one wit-”

“Yes, I know the one.” You said.

“Okay, well I told them that I know a girl who would want it.” She smiled.

“Are you serious?” You said as you hung the jacket on the back of your door.

“Yes I’m serious! They said you’d have to apply though, so I have the application with me, but I put in a really good word for you, and pretend I didn’t tell you this, they basically said you have it in the bag.”

You smiled as you picked your phone up again and took a deep breath. “Cameron, thank you.” you said.

“Don’t mention it.” She said smugly. “And guess who the director is?”

“I don’t know, who?” You asked.

“Joe Mazzello.” She smiled.

“Remind me who that is?” You asked.

She groaned. “He’s an actor, Y/N, like a big one. This is gonna be a big movie.”

You let out a breath of happiness. “Thank you so much Cam.”

“I’ll see you when I get home.” She said “I’m about to get on the subway.”

“Ok,” You agreed. “See you.” You smiled.

The second she hung up, you had the overwhelming urge to call your dad. But you didn’t. It felt like he wouldn’t care, or he wouldn’t think that this was serious or that he would think you’re stupid for being excited about an internship.

But it didn’t matter. You had your source of income.

No one could have prepared you for how nerve-wracking your first day would be. You’re stomach had been churning all day, from when you woke up, to when Cam wished you luck and told you to mention her to the director, right up until you were walking into the large glass building that hopefully held your future as an actress.

After a 32 floor elevator ride, one of the producers met you and another boy your age at the front desk. You gave him a weak smile, trying not to let your jaw chatter from nervousness. He looked away.

“So this is where business is done, basically. Everything that’s not done on the set is done in this building. You guys, of course, will be spending a lot of time on set and here. I’d suggest familiarizing yourself with the surroundings.” The producer explained. She was older than you by quite a bit, with silver hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a few days and a kind smile that eased your nervousness. She led you down a hallway that looked like it never ended, never mentioning where she was taking you. “The set is about 45 minutes out of town, and unfortunately, we can’t offer you on set living, like the director and actors get, so you’ll have to travel back home every night.” She never looked back at the two of you as she walked, but it didn’t matter because neither of you said anything.

She stopped outside of a door, with a small plaque on the front that read “Director; Joseph Mazzello”. Her smile faded quickly as she turned around to look at you both. “This is a serious job. As directors assistants, you are to do whatever he tells you. He calls all of the shots. Hundreds of people applied for this position, and we chose you two. I could replace both of you in 5 seconds.” You gulped and glanced over at the boy, who seemed to stand a little taller when he heard how competitive this was. “He’s in here, he’s going to discuss expectations, and he’ll let you know what this job will consist of. Address him as Mr. Mazzello and whatever you do, don’t mess up.”

You nodded and she scanned both of your faces. “Alrighty then.” She smiled again, as if she hadn’t just made two 22 year olds question every decision they’ve ever made.

She knocked on the door and then opened it to poke her head in. “Joe? You assistants are here.” She opened the door to reveal the two of you, stiff as boards.

“Great! I’ve been so excited to meet the two of you!” He exclaimed, standing up from his desk. The second that he made eye contact with you, you realized who he was. Joe from the subway. You’re mouth nearly dropped open at the realization. A deep blush covered your face as you begged the universe to not let him remember you, you could hardly bear the thought of your new boss knowing that you have one of his jackets hanging in your closet right now.

He smiled as he walked around his desk to shake both of your hands. “I’m Joe.” He said as he  took your hand. You smiled, keeping in mind that this wasn’t the first time he had introduced himself like this to you.

“Y/N.” He nodded, and as far as you could tell, he didn’t recognize you.

He moved on to the boy, who had neatly styled brown hair, light eyes, and broad shoulders. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Mazzello, I’m Beck.” He said hopefully, putting your mere ‘Y/N’ to shame.

Joe smiled. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Mazzello, seriously. That goes for both of you, call me Joe.” You promptly nodded as he looked between the two of you.

“Sit down, sit down.” He said.

The two of you sat down and he went back around behind his desk. “You look so nervous. I promise I’m not mean.” He pleaded with an awkward laugh.

He went on to tell you that you probably wouldn’t be doing much in the actual film production, which you were bummed to hear, but what did you expect? “So basically, directing is a big job, and I’ll need help with day to day things. Technical things, running stuff around for me, just random tasks that I don’t have time for.”

He explained more, and the whole time he spoke, you couldn’t help but think of meeting him on the subway. How sweet he’d been, how he had given his jacket to a complete stranger and paid for you to get on. You had let your mind wander to how handsome he was, how good his arms looked in his shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. Immediately, you scolded yourself. You weren’t going to mess up your first job by getting a stupid crush on your boss. Were you really that dumb?

“Mr. M-” He raised his eyebrows as you spoke “Joe. Sorry.” You laughed.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled. “What’s up, kid.”

“We haven’t gotten much information about scheduling, how is that gonna work?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, I guess you’ll need to know that. Do you guys have your phones with you?” He asked.

You both nodded and you pulled yours out of your purse.

“Ok, my number is 501 333, 7689.”

You were a bit taken back at the fact that he was giving you his phone number, he hardly knew the two of you and he’s a famous actor. But, you weren’t complaining.

“I’ll just text you where to be and when to be there, alright?” He asked.

“Ok.” You both agreed.

“Alright.” He clapped his hands together. “So, first, I need someone to take these to Alex in I.T. and-”

“I’ll do it.” Beck blurted out as he stood up.

“Oh, ok.” Joe said, just as startled as you were.

“Then I need you to tell him to email me a copy of the call sheet.” He said.

“Got it, Mr. Mazzello.” He said, starting towards the door.

“Come on, call me Joe.” He smiled.

“I prefer to keep things, you know, professional.” Beck sent you a nasty side glance as if to say you weren’t professional.

“Alright then, Mr. Beck.” Joe nodded.

Beck stepped out of his office and you turned back to Joe. “Who pissed in that kids cereal?” He said under his breath, sifting through a few papers on his desk

You giggled and Joe smiled, looking up at you to meet your eyes and then back down at his papers. “So you’re from New York?” He asked.

“Well, yeah. Rochester originally, but I went to college here and I plan on staying here.” He nodded.

“Do you wanna do film production or something else?” He questioned.

“Well, the goal is to become an actress.”

“So you’ve been auditioning for things then?” He looked up at you expectantly. You prayed that he wasn’t trying to figure out if you were the girl from the subway.

You were just opening your mouth to answer when Beck opened back up the door. You both turned to him.

“That was quick.” Joe said.

“What can I say.” He shrugged cockily.

Joe sent you a glance along with a small smile. You looked at your lap, trying to hide the grin that was threatening to show.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 22

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Harry didn’t think he wanted Melody behind the wheel when she seemed so upset, but she insisted. Only minutes after her last words with her father, Harry was packing their suitcases into the running car. He hadn’t even buckled his seatbelt before she was backing out of the driveway. Neither of them spoke until they reached the highway, and when Melody’s phone rang, both of them jumped.

“Fuck,” she muttered, trying to slow her racing pulse. “It should be in the front pocket of my suitcase.”

Harry unbuckled his seatbelt and swung around, reaching for her luggage. He made quick work of the zipper, fishing out her phone and turning back around in his seat. He sighed when he saw the screen.

“What?” Melody asked.

“‘S your mum.”

She shook her head slowly, biting into the corner of her lip. “Don’t answer it.”

“Wasn’ plannin’ on it,” Harry muttered, dropping the phone into a cupholder as it stopped ringing. He buckled himself back in and hesitated before turning down the volume on the radio. “So,” he began, “CJ.”

Melody exhaled between her teeth. “Do we have to do this?”

“How many times have yeh forced me to talk about shit I didn’ wanna talk about?”

She chewed on her lip again, glancing over her shoulder to switch lanes. Harry waited for her to speak, but she only shifted beneath his gaze.

“Melody.”

She groaned and mumbled, “I dated him in high school.”

Harry nodded. He’d been able to sort that much out for himself and he was trying not to be bothered. If CJ was going to show up at this party, couldn’t she have warned him? “Yeh loved him?” he asked instead. He wanted to swallow the words as soon as he spoke them. They sounded bitter and jealous.

“No.” Melody glanced briefly at him, shaking her head fervently. “No, I didn’t. I thought I did, but I was sixteen. He was my first serious boyfriend.”

Harry relaxed in his seat, peeling back the collar of his shirt. He wished he’d taken the time to change before they had rushed out of the house.

“Why’d yeh break up?”

Melody shifted her hands, carefully adjusting her swelling knuckles. “When we started looking into college, he wanted me to go to school with him. And he thought it was funny that I wanted to write. It was annoying. So, I dumped him.”

“And tha’s it?”

She frowned, checking the road around her, switching lanes again. “What do you mean? What else would there be?”

“Well, I dunno.” Harry shrugged. “But whatever just happened felt more personal than just an old relationship.”

“He was my first time,” Melody said, peering at him uncomfortably. “Is that what you wanna know?”

Harry groaned, pressing his palms to his forehead. He wished he could push those words right back out of his skull. “Jesus Christ, Melody,” he muttered. “No. No.”

“I’m sorry.” She pulled her right hand into her lap. Stretching her fingers around the wheel was growing increasingly uncomfortable. “Harry, his family is rich and he’s an asshole, okay?” she said. “He was an asshole when I dated him.”

“Sure know how to pick ‘em,” Harry muttered, dropping his hands. He still hadn’t forgotten about Cooper either, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like just another bad choice.

“Don’t.” Melody’s nose wrinkled as she frowned, her teeth back to worrying at her lip. Harry wondered how she hadn’t managed to bite through the skin yet. “Don’t do that.”

The voice of a radio host carried through the speakers as the song ended. Harry reached to turn the volume down further, but ended up clicking the radio off completely. The was nothing but the subtle hum of the engine, the sound of the car’s tires on the road. “Why’d yeh hit him?“

Melody’s lips parted, her face pinched in confusion. “What do you mean, why?” She looked over at him, too long for comfort when they were moving at such a high speed. “Harry, if someone had said something like that about me, I know for a fact that you wouldn’t think twice before swinging. You think I’m not gonna do the same thing?”

He swallowed, unnerved again by how easily she could predict his actions. If CJ had insulted her, he would have had a lot more to deal with than a bloody lip, but that was beside the point. “I mean,” he said softly, “was it because he was talkin’ shit to me? Or was it because yeh were embarrassed?”

Melody’s breath left her in a gust, as if she’d taken a blow to the stomach. She blinked rapidly into the sunlight reflecting off the car in front of them. “Embarrassed?” she murmured, trying to find sense in the word on her tongue. “You think I’m embarrassed of you?”

The seconds ticked by as she waited for him to deny it. But there wasn’t even music to fill the emptiness, the lack of words.

“Harry.” She huffed through her nose, trying to keep the overwhelming frustration out of her voice when she spoke to him. “God, you are not hearing me. I love you. I tell you that every day. There’s nothing about you for me to be embarrassed by.”

The space between them fell silent again. There was tension here and Melody didn’t understand why, when all she’d done was stick up for him. It was the exact same thing that he’d done for her so many times—with Cooper, with Brian all those months ago, with the random guy at Brute’s on New Year’s Eve. Could he not see that? Could he not understand her motivations as easily as she could sort through his?

“Can you say something?” she whispered, her chest aching in his prolonged silence. “Are you listening?”

“Yes.” He rested his head back against his seat, letting his eyes fall closed. This weekend felt like the longest weekend of his life. “Yes, Mel. I hear it.”

Melody reached over to turn the radio back on when it seemed that the conversation was over. Her phone rang again, but she rejected the call when she saw that it was her mom. Harry, despite the noise, could hear Melody’s breathing shift, air lodging in her throat, shaking as she exhaled through her nose. He peeled his eyes open to look at her and the sight of tears on her cheek knocked the breath from his lungs.

“I don’ understand why yeh’re cryin’ right now,” he whispered.

She swiped at the water trailing down her face, sighing. She didn’t want to be crying. But the events of the past hour had begun to catch up with her. “Because I didn’t want this fucking trip to end like this,” she said. “I kept trying to convince you that everything would be fine and then my dad kind of just kicked me out. Not that I wanted to be there in the first place, but—it’s fucked up. And I didn’t want to see CJ. And because I hit him now my parents have a bad impression of you. God, I’m sorry.”

Harry shook his head, watching her catch her wobbling lip in her teeth again as she finished speaking. “Melody, pull over.”

“What?”

“Yeh’re fuckin’ cryin’ on a four-lane highway,” he said. “Take the next exit. I’ll drive.”

Melody didn’t argue. Lifting her shoulder up to dry her cheek, she checked the next lane, shifting over only a few moments before another exit ramp appeared. They pulled into the empty lot of a gas station just off the exit, wasting no time in rounding the front of the car to switch seats. Melody pulled down the visor, looking at her reflection as she wiped mascara from beneath her eyes. Harry was still adjusting his seat when she spoke again.

“Harry?” she asked in her quiet, gravelly voice—the way she sounded when she was still choked with tears. It was a voice he knew better than he would have liked.

“What?”

“What CJ said about you—” She flipped the visor back up and looked out her window, busying her hands with the hem of her dress. “You know I don’t think that, right?”

Harry buckled his seatbelt, shifting the car into drive and pulling back onto the street, headed for the highway again. “Yeah.” He did know that. She didn’t think anything like that. Somehow, for reasons he didn’t understand, Melody seemed to find more to him than anyone else. But CJ and her parents—even Bea, in the beginning—saw their relationship differently. He was reminded of the way Melody’s classmates had watched him when he was leaving the art gallery, after he’d threatened Cooper, and he wondered how often people silently thought what CJ had actually had the nerve to say aloud.

“He doesn’t know you,” she continued. Harry had almost forgotten she was talking. “And my parents don’t know you. I think—”

“Melody, stop,” he snapped. There was a pause while he took a moment to reel himself back in, to stamp down his tone. He hadn’t meant to spit his words so fiercely. “I don’ need yeh to fuckin’ coddle me. Okay?”

He could feel her eyes on him as they merged back into traffic, but he didn’t look at her. “What?”

“You act like that little shit is gonna send me spiralin’ or somethin’. ‘M not havin’ a breakdown. ‘M fuckin’ fine. Stop.”

Melody watched Harry’s jaw lock as he finished speaking, like he was waiting for her to argue with him. She felt herself deflate. There wasn’t any energy left in her to carry an argument, and there wasn’t really anything to argue about in the first place. She’d only been trying to check where his head was at, and if he didn’t want reassurance, then she would leave him be.

“Okay,” she said softly, nodding. “I’m sorry.” Swallowing around the thick feeling in her throat, she tipped her head back against the headrest and tried to let her whirring mind rest for a moment.

***

When Harry pulled up to the curb in front of Melody’s apartment, he found her asleep in the passenger seat, head propped against the door. Strands of hair were stuck to her cheek, a bit of dried mascara smudging her jaw. He reached for her thigh, shaking her gently, and she woke with a start. She blinked at him in a daze.

“We’re here,” he murmured, cutting the engine. He watched her shift as she woke up, rubbing her eyes before remembering that she’d been wearing makeup, then trying to clean the smears from her skin. He didn’t know what he was waiting for—perhaps another question, more talking—but she got out of the car without a word, tucking her phone back into her suitcase and dragging it from the back seat.

The trip up to the apartment was just as silent. Melody checked the door, then fished for her keys. When they stepped inside, there were no lights on, and the clouds outside set the living room in shadows.

Melody lingered in the kitchen while Harry dragged his things into the bedroom. She heard him rifling through his bag, slamming drawers as he put away clothes. The noise seemed to split whatever tension had been lingering between them.

“Mel!” Harry called. “Where the fuck did I put my phone?”

Melody sighed, letting her bag slide away from her and collapse to the floor. She opened her mouth to tell him that she didn’t know, but before she could speak a hand clamped down over the lower half of her face, pulling her backwards so roughly that her ankle twisted.

A sharp bubble of panic expanded in her gut, twisting her insides. She scrambled to find purchase on the floor, grasping the wrist at her throat. She knew who it was before he spoke, but the whispered “Shh” at her ear still sent an agonizing chill down her spin. Hairs rose along the back of her neck.

“C’mon,” said Harry with a groan from the bedroom. “Yeh’re ignorin’ me? ‘M sor—”

He froze at the doorway, a sweatshirt dangling from one hand. His jaw tightened and he took two heavy steps forward before freezing again, breath held in his lungs.

“What’re yeh wearin’?” Colton asked with a snort. His hand slid down to Melody’s shoulder, forearm tight across her chest. She could hear the smile in his voice and, against her back, she could feel him breathing. It made her stomach churn again.

“What d’yeh want?” Harry growled.

“Just to chat.” Colton’s grip tightened as Harry took another step forward. “Stay where yeh are for now.”

It was then that Melody felt the kiss of cold metal at the side of her neck, just below her ear. She lurched away from it, but Colton yanked her even closer.

“Melody,” Harry said, his voice urgent, yet somehow controlled. “Yeh’re okay. ‘S okay. Mel, look at me.”

Her eyes, wide and panicked and already wet with pooling tears, found his. She felt more caged than ever before, although Colton’s arm loosened around her neck, and his fingers were curled into her dress, not even touching her skin. His forearm might as well have been crushing her throat.

“‘M not gonna let him hurt yeh,” Harry murmured. “I promise.”

“C’mon, mate. Yeh can’ promise her that.” Colton lifted Melody off her feet as she tried to pull away from him again, tearing a strangled gasp from her throat, swinging her right back in front of him. “Can’ even protect yourself, can yeh?”

Melody had prepared for this. When she’d first started training with Sean, she’d been more concerned with protecting herself than with anything else. He’d drilled into her mind so many different ways to break out of a grip like this, but now that it was actually happening, she felt like her mind had emptied, clean as a blank sheet of paper, the unused canvases sitting in her studio. And the harder she tried to remember what she knew, the more panicked she became.

Melody’s next breath caught audibly in her throat and Harry took a step forward before he could think about it. Colton clicked his tongue. Melody’s fingers tightened around his arm as it pressed into her collar. She choked on a ragged sob.

“Told yeh not to move, Haz,” Colton reminded him.

Harry froze, but barely spared a glance. His gaze remained fixed on Melody’s face. “Okay,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay, yeh wanna talk? Let’s talk. What d’yeh wanna talk about?”

“Where yeh been?” Colton asked. It was strange how much his voice dripped with the sound of Harry’s. But Harry’s calmed Melody, and this varying cadence only made bile rise in her throat. “Been hangin’ around for a couple days and only saw a couple other girls. Thought I had the wrong place.”

“We went to stay with Melody’s parents,” Harry answered.

“Yeah? That why yeh’re all dressed up?” The sneer in his voice was almost palpable. “They like you?”

“No.”

Colton chuckled into Melody’s ear and leaned forward to get a clearer view of her profile. “Yeah, I didn’ think they would. We’re a bit much, huh?”

Melody trembled as Colton’s face leaked into her periphery. Her muscles seized, tight and useless, and when the tip of the knife slipped across her skin, breaking the surface, she grew hot and dizzy. Her feet slipped.

Harry took one faltering step forward.

“Just breathe, Melody. No, no, don’ look at him,” he rushed as she twitched in Colton’s hold. Harry shook his head quickly and patted his chest. “Look at me. Keep watchin’ me. We’re both gonna be just fine, baby.”

“Christ,” Colton said, shaking his head in disbelief, “she’s got yeh absolutely whipped, hasn’ she?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as they met Colton’s. “Have yeh been fuckin’ followin’ her?”

“Me? You trail after her like a lost fuckin’ puppy, mate.”

“‘M not stalking anybody, Colton.”

Colton rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Harry. Somehow I thought she’d put up more of a fight than this. A lot less scarier out of a ring, huh?”

“If yeh want a fight, ‘m right here. Just let her go.”

Melody was trying to keep from holding her breath, but inhaling took effort. The spell of dizziness hadn’t yet faded. She couldn’t remember ever needing space and air more in her life. “Harry,” she managed to mumble, and his eyes snapped back to her face.

“Tha’s right. ‘M right here,” he said, his voice firm. She looked on the verge of passing out. “Not gonna let anythin’ happen to yeh, Mel.”

“Okay, tha’s enough,” Colton snapped, standing upright. He took a step backward, dragging Melody with him. “Melody here is gonna come with me, actually.” He grinned and the stretch of his jaw settled his chin into the top of her hair.

“No.” Harry took a measured step forward, lifting his hands out, and he found them shaking.

Melody could tell he was trying to stay calm for her, but that hint of panic that widened his eyes broke something deep within her. She shrieked. The sound left her throat raw and when Colton’s arm pressed down on her neck, she fell into hysterical, flowing tears.

“Stop!” Harry shouted. He looked fully at Colton for the first time, his glare murderous, and his outstretched hands closed into fists. “Colton, if yeh don’ get your fuckin’ hands off of her... Hurt her again and it’ll be the last thing yeh do. I swear to fuckin’ God.”

“What’re yeh gonna do? Glare at me to death?”

“Let her go!”

“Nah.”

Harry, helpless, could think of nothing else but to stall him. “What d’yeh even want with her?”

Colton’s wicked grin faded. “Harry, d’yeh know what ‘s like to be a wanted criminal? Anythin’ you’ve done has been covered up. Yeh’re protected by the cops. Me? They found me I would’ve been locked up. And ‘m not gettin’ locked up. So, ‘m just gonna take your girl as payment for the worst year of my life.”

“Worst year of your life?” Harry scoffed. “You fuckin’ shot me. In the head.”

“Oh, like yeh weren’ gonna shoot me. Yeh’re fine now, anyway. No harm done.”

“‘M fine?” Harry demanded. “Fuck off.” His eyes flickered back to Melody, his anger softening as a newfound desperation climbed up his throat. “Let her go. Please.”

“Jesus Christ, are yeh really gonna beg me?”

The sound of sirens split through the night, so distant that Melody thought she might have imagined it. Harry glanced at the open apartment door. Colton fell silent, stiff at Melody’s back. “When the fuck did yeh call the cops?”

“I didn’,” Harry hissed. His eyes flitted back and forth between Colton and Melody, trying to find a way he could separate them without her getting hurt. “I didn’ call anyone.”

“Well,” Colton murmured, “‘s time for us to leave.” He drew Melody toward the hall and she dug her nails into his arm.

“Colton!” Harry yelled. He chanced a few steps forward before restraining himself. “Leave her here. Yeh’re not gonna get very far draggin’ her around.”

“As if yeh want me to—”

Melody fell, at first only because she was dizzy, but soon with purpose as she began to slip beneath Colton’s arm in his distraction. She felt the tip of his knife slice her neck before she reached the floor, and then the blade went skittering across the floorboards. Everything seemed to erupt. Harry dove and Colton met him in the air, slamming a fist into Harry’s jaw. They rolled until Harry sat on Colton’s stomach. Melody watched punches fall like hail. Blood spilled around them. It felt like a film reel.

A hand shot across the floor for the knife and it whipped through the air. The butt of the handle smashed into the side of Harry’s head, throwing him from atop Colton, who scrambled toward the door on his hands and knees, blood pouring from his nose.

Melody heard footsteps pounding down the stairwell after he disappeared. The sirens were so much closer, now. But it felt like there was cotton in her ears, a layer detaching her from her surroundings.

“Melody.” Harry sat up, a hand pressed to his head, wincing. “C’mere, baby. He’s gone.”

“Oh, my God.” Bea had appeared in the doorway to her room at the sound of Colton fleeing. “Are you okay? Melody? You guys are okay?”

Harry nodded quickly, dismissively. “You called?”

“Yeah, I called.” Her eyes swept the kitchen, lingering on the spray of blood that surrounded Harry like a salt circle. “Is she okay?” she repeated, nodding to Melody, who still hadn’t moved.

Harry nodded, wincing again as the tender spot on his scalp throbbed. He shuffled across the floor toward Melody as Bea rushed toward the apartment door, clicking the locks into place.

“Okay?” Harry whispered. He let go of his head, pulling Melody toward him when he reached her, feeling her shake beneath his hands. “I’ve got yeh. Tell me yeh’re okay, baby.”

Melody wasn’t processing a word he was speaking to her. “I’m sorry,” she was chanting beneath her breath. It seemed to be all that she could get out. “I’m sorry, sorry.” Her mind felt like it was lagging by entire minutes. She had trouble making sense of Bea’s presence, that she’d been in the apartment the whole time, that she had called the police.

It took Harry a minute to decipher her mumbling. “Why the fuck are yeh apologizin’ to me, Mel?”

“I clammed up,” she stammered out. “Sean taught me to—”

“No. No, ‘s not the same as real life, love. Not when yeh’re face to face with somethin’ that scares yeh like that. Sean will be damn proud of you.” He pulled her even closer, his voice quiet. “I am so proud of you. Yeh’re fuckin’ incredible.”

A fresh wave of tears welled up along her lashes. Harry grasped her face, thumbing strands of hair from her cheeks. His eyes roamed her features and then he hissed, clapping a hand to the side of her neck. “Fuck’s sake, yeh’re bleedin’.”

“I’m—I’m okay.” She inhaled, shaky, and it felt like the first breath she’d ever taken. “Are you okay?”

“Mel,” he said, exasperated, “‘m fine.”

Melody swiped at her eyes and reached for Harry’s chin. His lip was bleeding. “He hit you.”

“‘M used to gettin’ hit, love.”

“But your head,” she pressed.

“It hurts, but ‘s not the worst ‘s been.” He pulled her hands back down when she tried to turn his head, keeping them clasped tight between his, her blood smearing between them. “Baby, I swear to yeh, ‘m okay. We’re fine. Right?”

Melody nodded, finally glancing at Bea, tears beginning to slip over her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Bea glanced toward the locked door and wrapped her arms around herself, clutching the sides of her sweater. “I was trying to take a nap,” she explained. “And then I heard Harry and...”

Melody flinched as Harry touched her face again, this time wiping her tears with his knuckles to avoid staining her skin with more blood. She watched a deep groove settle into the space between his brows.

“Is he gonna come back?” she whispered.

“No.” Harry shook his head fervently, then winced. He pressed a fist to his forehead, grumbling out, “No, they’ll find him.”

“Harry,” Melody breathed, “are you okay?”

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, falling from his crouch, onto his knees, his palms clapped to his head. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth ground together, and a moment later he had tipped forward, pressing his forehead into the kitchen floor.

“Harry,” Melody said again. A sound like she’d never heard before ripped from his throat, loud and raw, debilitatingly agonized. She slid an arm beneath his shoulders, hauling his torso across her lap.

“Bea. Bea, his pain pills,” she pleaded, looking up at her friend. “They’re on my dresser. Please.”

“Mel,” Bea said quietly, shaking her head in dismay, “they’re not gonna work right away.”

“I know, I know.” Melody drew a hand down Harry’s back, watching his body shift. “Shit.”

Harry ripped out of her hold a moment later, like space might help the pain. When there was no relief, his forehead crashed against her shoulder, one arm bent up around her neck, both hands clutching wildly at his head again. She locked her arms around his waist.

“Please, go get them,” she begged Bea, who darted across the room.

“Melody,” Harry grunted against her skin. “I can’—”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered when his voice cut off. She wanted to fix him. She wanted to press her lips to his head and take the pain away, and her inability to make it better had her sick to the stomach. “I’m sorry. Harry, you’re gonna be okay.”

“Oh, God.” Bea was crying when she returned. Melody stared at her helplessly. She’d seen Bea cry only once in the years that she’d known her, and it was when she was so drunk out of her mind she couldn’t even figure out why she was crying in the first place. Was she crying from the stress of the past few minutes? Because Harry was in pain?

There was a pounding on the door not a moment after they’d forced a couple of pills down Harry’s throat. Bea and Melody flinched but Harry just yelled in his cracked, broken voice. Melody clutched him closer.

“Police.” The voice was familiar, but for once it didn’t send Melody’s heart into her gut. “Open up.”

Bea waited for Melody’s nod of approval before unlocking the door, allowing Brian and his partner into the apartment. Melody’s mind was no longer lagging. If anything, it was working double speed. She didn’t wait for anyone else to speak before words were spilling from her mouth.

“Colton was here two minutes ago,” she rushed. “I heard him leave the building. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. But Harry needs to go to the hospital. Please.”

Brian nodded along as she spoke. He looked down at Harry, still clinging to her, his face mostly hidden but his teeth grinding in agony.

“Would you believe me if I said we found him already?”

Bea exhaled in a huff. Melody’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Did you arrest him? Are you taking him in?”

Brian’s eyes wandered across the apartment, through the living room and to the window. The city was growing even darker as the limited sunlight withdrew for the evening. Melody’s nerves felt further fried with every passing moment without a response.

“Brian.”

“Well, it wasn’t us personally who found him,” he murmured. “It was a few other officers in the area on patrol.”

“Okay,” she pressed. “They lost him?”

“No. Uh...” He took a deep breath before looking at her again. “He came at them with a knife. He’s dead.”

Melody reeled backward, nearly yanking Harry off of his knees. He hissed at the movement. The sound caught everyone’s attention again and despite the strange feeling in her gut, the shock that Brian’s words dredged back up, Melody shook her head and pushed this new knowledge to the back of her mind.

“Can you take us to the hospital?” she asked.

Brian nodded, stepping forward to grasp one of Harry’s arms and pull him to his feet. “What’s wrong with him?”

Melody watched Harry slump into Brian’s side. She dragged herself up from the floor. “Colton hit him in the head.”

Brian’s partner—Melody had never learned his name, though she’d pictured his face countless times in her mind when she thought back to being kidnapped—supported Harry from the other side. Melody glanced at Bea before she followed them.

“I’ll meet you there,” Bea assured her, waving her on. “I’ll pack you each a bag just in case.”

Melody felt like she could have cried again. She crossed the kitchen in a few strides and threw her arms around Bea, resting her neck on Bea’s shoulder. “I love you. Thank you.”

Bea nodded in agreement. “I love you, too.” She could hear the cops and Harry making their ways down the staircase, their shoes squeaking, and she squeezed Melody once more before patting her shoulder blade. “Go,” she breathed, and Melody flew out the door. Bea locked it behind her.

Chapter 23

[nxrthmizu]

| me and you | Sugawara Koushi

»»——⍟——««

song | Night Changes - One Direction

pairing | Sugawara Koushi x Reader

words | 2.9k 

author’s note | Hi yes I am late but,,, Oh wait I have no excuses. Anyway, please reblog and comment if you enjoyed reading! Not sure if I’m still being shadowbanned :/ Not proofread so let me know it there are any mistakes! 

»»——⍟——««

cadowly’s songfic december mlist

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Goin' out tonight, changes into something red

His mouth dropped at the sight of you, a gentle smile on your lips as you walked into the room. You were dressed in a black cloak, a dark green scarf wrapped around your neck like a snake. The kids’ attention instantly gravitated towards you, a whole bunch of them swarming towards you, a walking clump of excited chatters and ‘Merry Christmas, L/N-sensei!’. 

Her mother doesn't like that kind of dress

“Hello everyone,” You replied with a laugh, tugging off your cloak and your scarf as you walked into the classroom of the pre-school where both you and Sugawara Koushi worked as teachers at. “Merry Christmas!” 

A blush crept up his cheeks when you undressed, proudly showing off a bright red sweater with what seemed to be Rudolph on it. The pre-school had organised a secret gift event, where everyone would buy a gift, wrap it, and leave it under the tree. Later on, everyone would get a chance to pick out one gift for themselves, and since the teachers were required to participate, Sugawara had picked out a sweater, wrapped it in a cute box, and left it under the tree in the teachers’ staffroom. He had never anticipated the fact that you would choose his gift, giving your reason for the choice as ‘It looks really nicely wrapped, whoever bought this must’ve put a lot of effort into it!’.

Everything she never had she's showin' off

“L/N-sensei, your sweater’s really cute!” One of your kids said with a beam. 

“Thank you!” A soft smile graced your lips as you glanced down at the sweater with a fond expression. “It’s from my secret santa!” 

The kids continued to chatter excitedly around you as you set down your cloak and your bag in Sugawara’s classroom, where both of your classes were having a joint Christmas party. 

“Merry Christmas, Suga-san.” You greeted with a smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Your sweater’s really cute.” 

He glanced down in surprise, remembering with sudden shock that the sweater he was wearing came as a set with the one that he had wrapped. His was dark green, and also had Rudolph on it- Except Rudolph was standing in a different pose, of course. 

“Ah.” He coughed awkwardly. “Thank you. I like yours, too.” He knew without a doubt by the glint in your eyes, you were aware that the sweater you were wearing was from him. 

“Thanks! I really need to thank the person who got me this sweater.” At this point you were just teasing him, and boy was it working. Red flushed across Koushi’s cheeks, and it wasn’t because it was snowing outside. 

“Suga-sensei, you’re blushing!” One of the girls pointed out with a giggle. This caused a chain reaction throughout the classroom, the forty-or-so kids you had packed in Suga’s classroom rushing to the front, where he was sitting cross-legged on the carpet while wrapping some last-minute gifts. 

“Suga-sensei’s blushing!” Came the chorus of the kids’ exclamations. The red on his cheeks only darkened as he tried to laugh it off, but unfortunately for him, the red around his cheek, neck, and ears did not recede. 

You laughed softly. “Alright, alright. That’s enough. Who’s excited for the gift exchange?” 

The kids raised their hands and jumped around enthusiastically, some bragging loudly that they got amazing gifts for their classmates. Sugawara breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you had redirected the kids attention. 

“We still have a few students who aren’t here yet, so why don’t everyone leave their gifts under the tree first and we can play some small games while waiting for the rest of your friends, okay?” You suggested with a smile, the kids instantly rushing to grab their gifts from their bags to stash under the tree that both your classes had decorated together. 

“Thanks.” He smiled thankfully at you, praying that his blush had lightened up. 

Your eyes twinkled in amusement. “No problem.” 

»»——⍟——««

“Suga-sensei!” One of the girls approached him, pushing past his arms to settle into his lap. He chuckled, patting her hair as he gave her a questioning look. “I have a question!” 

“Well, go ahead.” He smiled. 

“Are you and L/N-sensei dating?” The kid whispered, looking up at him with saucer-sized, curious eyes. 

Sugawara coughed loudly, trying not to choke on his own embarrassment. “No! I mean... No. No we’re not.” 

“But she’s so pretty!” The girl scrunched up her eyebrows, not understanding why her teacher wouldn’t want to date the pretty teacher from the neighbouring class. “And she’s really nice!” 

“Well, yes, but...” He struggled with his words, trying to remember that you were across the room and that he couldn’t let the conversation get out of hand or he was done for. 

Little did he know, across the room, seated with your own kids, you were being confronted with the same question. “L/N-sensei, are you dating Suga-sensei?” One of your boys, who was cuddled up against your side while he munched on a piece of cake asked you, the rest of the kids tuning in to listen in interest. 

“No, but what made you think that?” A light blush painted your cheeks but you kept your cool, entertaining your kids with the conversation. 

One of the kids who were seated in a semi circle around you piped up. “Because he’s really nice to you!” 

“Because mommy said you two look nice together!” 

“Because his sweater looks a little like yours!” 

You smiled, your eyes flicking up to spot a flushed Sugawara across the classroom. “Well, we’re not dating. If we are I’ll let you guys know, okay?” 

It wasn’t just the kids, though. 

“How was the Christmas party?” One of Suga’s kid’s mother asked as she engulfed her child in a hug. The boy broke into a grin and begin ranting about the cake and the gift that he had picked out from under the tree. “That sounds great!” 

“I met new friends from L/N-sensei’s class!” The boy continued to say excitedly. 

“Ah, L/N-sensei?” The middle-aged woman glanced across the entrance of the pre-school, spotting you, also talking to one of your kids’ mother. “Wow, she’s really pretty!” (Suga had to stop himself from nodding vigorously in agreement.)

The boy agreed without holding back. “Yeah! Suga-sensei blushed when he talked to her!” The grey-haired teacher spluttered, not expecting his own student to betray him. 

“Is that so?” The mother instantly piped up, wiggling her eyebrows at Suga, whose face flushed again. “Suga-san, I think the both of you would look great together! Is she single?” 

“I-” He fumbled around with his words. “I think?” 

The mother shot him a smirk, walking away with her excited child as Sugawara blushed, drowning further in his growing affection for you. There you were, across the entrance, waving goodbye to one of your kids. “See you after Christmas break!” You smiled so brightly he was sure you could outshine Hinata, the literal sunshine child. 

The both of you sighed in relief as the last kid was picked up by his mother. At that rate, the both of you were ready to collapse from exhaustion- Dealing with kids during Christmas eve was one of the most draining things you had ever done, and the two of you were incredibly grateful that you had combined the class celebration- Because it meant only one classroom to clean up. 

“I’m exhausted already, and there’s still the staff celebration tonight.” You complained with a tired whine as you picked up all the trash left behind. 

He shot you a knowing smile, feeling his mental fatigue start to settle in. God, he loved kids, but they could be a handful at times. 

“L/N!” One of your female coworkers burst into Suga’s classroom, startling the two of you. Her expression turned sheepish as she apologised quickly. “I’m really sorry but- I can’t send you to the staff party tonight!” 

Your face dropped as you groaned. You couldn’t drive, and the party location was a reasonable distance from the nearest train station, and you didn’t feel like walking... 

“My mom suddenly told me she wanted me home for Christmas eve, so...” She winced. “I’m really sorry. Maybe you could get another teacher to send you?” 

“I could.” 

The both of you turned to look at Suga, who had paused halfway through sweeping the floor. “I’m going to the party. I could drive you.” 

“Perfect!” Your coworker clapped her hands a little too enthusiastically. Your eyes narrowed at her suspiciously as she very conveniently ignored your questioning gaze. “You can go with Suga-san, then. Sorry and thanks again!”

 »»——⍟——««

Drivin' too fast, moon is breakin' through her hair

“Wow.” Sugawara couldn’t help the way his jaw unhinged at the sight of you, clad in a tight-fitting red dress that hugged your curves in a way that left little to his imagination. “I mean. Um. You look great.” He offered, trying to fix his composure, heat bursting in blossoms across his neck, cheeks, and ears. 

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You replied gracefully, your heels clicking as you walked down the steps of your apartment. 

Sugawara had cleaned up from his sweater-dressed pre-school teacher look into a well-groomed man with soft grey locks, a dark-green dress-shirt with a Christmas tree patterning and black jeans. “T- Thanks.” He stuttered, rushing over to hold the door open for you, quite like the gentleman he had a reputation of being. 

She's headin' for somethin' that she won't forget

The ride started off a little tense until you started humming along to the song on the radio, enticing him into joining you. He could barely keep his eyes on the road- How could he, when he had an angel like you in his passenger seat, eyes blinking under the stars and your heavenly voice tickling his ears?

Havin' no regrets is all that she really wants

“Suga! Oh, hi L/N-san.” A male teacher greeted the two of you with wiggling eyebrows that instantly made the two of you look away from each other. “Well, get yourself some drinks, we’ve got quite the night ahead of us!” 

We're only gettin' older, baby

“Come on, the two of you have been sitting here for the whole night! Get on the dance floor!” 

The two of you were seated by the bar, nursing your respective drinks (Suga had a glass of carbonated water- He wasn’t allowed to get drunk and he’d be darned if he forgot his responsibility of driving you home) while sharing small-talk, primarily about your classes and what you do outside of work. Koushi enjoyed your presence; Conversation just seemed to flow when he was with you, and awkwardness a foreign concept that he had forgotten. The twinkle of your laugh was imprinted in his mind, your eyes curved into crescents and a giggle vibrating down your throat. 

“I don’t... Know how to dance.” You admitted shyly. 

Your coworker rolled her eyes. “Just get out there!” 

“I’ll go with.” Koushi laughed, setting his drink down. His hand found yours, in the maze of coloured strobe lights and the next thing you knew you were laughing, smiling, giggling as he brought you the centre of the dance floor, like he wanted to show off to the world just how special you were. 

You flushed in embarrassment, feeling multiple sets of eyes on you- Your coworkers’. “What do I do?” The whisper was shot to the grey-haired man, who was already moving to the music like he was born to dance. 

“Just listen to the music and focus on the beat.” He laughed, taking both of your hands into his, jerking you onto the beat and directing your movements until you got a hang of it. “There you go!” 

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

Everyone in the room must’ve been able to see how in love with you he was, Suga mused with a tiny groan. There were literal hearts in his eyes when he looked at you, your red dress dancing in the air alongside you, a slightly-drunk smile on your lips. The pounding music faded away from him, the only sound he heard being your angelic laugh. At that point he was sure your laugh could cure the world’s deadliest diseases. 

Does it ever drive you crazy

“I’ve never had that much fun.” Breathless, you smiled widely at him, both of you (Well, mostly you) stumbling back to the bar. 

His eyes softened at the sight of your tousled hair, your gleaming eyes, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin. You looked like you hadn’t went to a club to dance in ten years- Which, judging from how stiff you were when you were first dragged onto the floor- Was probably true. 

Just how fast the night changes?

“Hey... Can we get out of here?” You asked after a while, giving him a mini-heart-attack when you turned to look at him. “It’s getting too loud for me.” 

“Sure,” He replied easily. Heck, you could ask him to get on a plane to anywhere on the planet and he’d probably still say sure. Koushi knew he had fallen for you, and when he fell, he fell hard. 

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

The two of you grabbed a couple of rental bikes a little away from the club, scanning the barcodes with your phones before pedalling away. Your red dress fluttered in the wind from under your coat, your hair loosened and a couple strands waving at him with a laugh while they flew behind you. 

Disappearing when you wake up

He wished he could continue pedalling behind you forever; God, what he would give to have Christmas eve last forever. Your laugh played on loop inside his mind, the ring of your giggle warming him, insuring his body against the cold winter. 

But there's nothing to be afraid of

By the time morning came, would you remember? Would you remember the park that the two of you stopped at because you wanted to stargaze? Would you remember the love-struck way he stared at you while your eyes were fixated on the dots of white up in the sky, just out of your reach? Would you remember the way he took a breath of courage and intertwined your fingers together just as the clock struck 12? 

Even when the night changes

“Merry Christmas, Suga-san!” You smiled, looking at the time on your watch. 

It will never change me and you

“Merry Christmas, L/N-san.” He replied, an identical smile on his lips. You leaned closer, your lips connected with his as sparks exploded as loudly as the fireworks up above in his heart. 

“W- Wait!” Koushi pushed you away, cheeks flushed and painted a visible scarlet despite the dim lightning of the park. “You- You’re drunk. I’m not going to take advantage of you like this, you’ll regret this when you wake up.” 

A pout crossed your lips, but you figured he had a point. Even you knew that you were slightly drunk- It was the boldness of your actions, the way stars seemed to litter the air around your silver-haired coworker, the shine in his eyes that were a little brighter than usual. 

“I won’t.” You pursed your lips. “I probably won’t dare to do it again if I’m fully sober.” 

»»——⍟——««

“Suga-san?” 

He swore he almost had a heart attack when he woke up at 8am and his phone was ringing, your caller ID staring him in the face, urging him to pick up. “Yeah? Do you need anything, L/N-san?” 

“No, uh, can I- Can I come over?” 

If he didn’t have a heart attack at seeing your caller ID, he had a heart attack at your request. “Uh- Sure? Why?” 

“I... I’m not too sure either. I’ll explain when I get there.” 

Christmas morning was a wonderland of white falling from the sky, your window sill covered with an inch-thick of cold, powdered sugar. There was a faint throb in your head- You had drunk a little bit more after returning to the party with Sugawara. Fumbling around, reaching for your phone, you turned it on, blinking in surprise as you stared at the three words etched on your lockscreen wallpaper. 

‘Kiss’. ‘Sugawara’. ‘Koushi’. 

“What did I do last night?” You mumbled, sitting up. Flashes of a park, a sparkling night sky, and a silver-haired coworker flipped through your mind like a flipbook with a dozen pages missing. At last, you figured you might as well call the man in question- Surely he knew what you did last night. 

»»——⍟——««

“I... Woke up to this on my lockscreen.” You explained, showing him your phone. Red burst across Koushi’s cheeks like cherry blossoms, and for a moment you wondered if spring had come early. “I figured there was no harm if I came over.” 

“So... Are you going to do it?” He eyed you, a mixture of shy and curiosity. 

In one swift movement, you jerked the front of his shirt, pulling him to you for a kiss. When you pulled back, Sugawara Koushi was a stuttering, blushing mess who had apparently forgot how to use his words. 

“No harm in trying.” You shrugged with a tint of a smile across your lips. “So... Did you forget how to use words or...?” 

“Dammit, you can’t just do that to me like this!” 

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taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady ​@drippinginhoneyandgold ​@shoyosun​@aka-a-shii ​@shibayamasbae ​@churochuu​ @seijohlogy​ @dearsukuna 

send an ask to either @owlywrites or @cadenceh2o to be a part of Cadowly’s Songfic December’s taglist!

hello sorry for how late it is but uhhh yeah 

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[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

MASTERLIST

PREV | DATE 1 - THE CLUELESS ASSHOLE | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106 @kasandrafaye @veggytaled @svtbitch @stinkyobeymerat@hollypastl @differentballooncollection @o51oc @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper @kaisemieita

~

Your date stepped into the restaurant with a smile. Glasses. Neat hair. Handsome enough to avoid any major roasts from your family. Perfect.

“Hi, it’s great to finally meet you! I’m y/n”, you tried to make your voice sound demure. Stay cool y/n. Stay cool. Don’t even think about what the lemon head jerk said.

“Hi. I’m Hanate. You look…great” Another snicker from the direction of the bar.

“Thanks for coming all the way here to meet me. So, let’s go sit over there”, You threw a warning look at Atsumu and guided Hanate towards a table as far away from the bar as possible, making sure Atsumu was out of his line of sight. Osamu soon followed, placing two glasses of water on the table.

He pulled out a little notepad. “What’ll you be havin’ today?”

Hanate looked at you. “What’s good at this place?”

“I love the minced tuna and spring onion rice ball.” You thought you saw Atsumu’s head perk up in your direction.

“Cool.” He turned to Osamu, I’ll get one of those too.”

“Two minced tuna and spring onion rice balls comin’ right up”, Osamu repeated the order and went back to the prep station. You turned to your date.

“So, how’s your day going?”

“I’m so glad it’s the weekend.”

“Yeah! Totally!”, you picked up your glass of water to take a sip.

“I’ll never understand those try hard workaholics. It’s like, who do they think they are acting all high and mighty”. Cough. Some water went down the wrong pipe. Okay, that was unexpected, but it’s fine he doesn’t have to know about your work habits right away. You could always warm him up to it later. First you’d get him to fall for you and everything could fall into place later.

“Uh…yeah…”, you tried your best to make your response sound enthusiastic.

“But it is nice to be making good money. You know, my uncle hooked me up with this sweet job. I barely do anything, and I’m still making stacks.”  He gave you little side eye that he probably thought made him look cool. It didn’t. “You never know, if things work between us maybe he can work something out for you too”

You started to scoff but remembered that you were supposed to be getting this guy to like you, so you played it off as clearing your throat.

“Well…I don’t know about that”, You tried changing the topic. “So, what kinds of things are you interested in?”

“Ah my hobbies are pretty spread out. I don’t like to spend too much time on one thing. I can’t be tied down y’know. What about you?”

“I’m pretty interested in technology, especially applications that make education more accessible”

“Oh have you heard of the app GO”

“Ah, yeah I actually know a lot about it-”

“Well, did you know that the app won at the design awards last year. The creators must’ve spent ages coming up with it”

“Actually, It was a fairly simple concept rooted in values of co-creation”

“Uh…I’m pretty sure it was a minimal design where people work together toward the final result.”

Your eyebrow twitched. Isn’t that exactly what you just said but using different words?

“Well”, You started with a sly smile. “I think I would know the app I designed”

That shut him up. Haha.

But the satisfying moment was quickly interrupted by some loud guffaws coming from the blondie at the bar. Somehow you knew it wasn’t because he stumbled upon a funny meme. Sure, it felt great to flex on your clueless date, but that was none of his business. You made a sly glance in Atsumu’s direction. He was looking directly at you with a shit eating grin.

“Uh…Well…”, Hanate still looked like he was struggling coming up something to say after your little roast. He frowned turning to look in Atsumu’s direction “Wow that guy is really loud. Wait is he looking this way-“

“Oh!”, you exclaimed.

Oh hell no. You were not about to let some rando dye job jerk get in the way of your plans to conquer romance. You needed him to shut up. Now. But you weren’t going to be able to do that while trying to look like a lady for you date. Quickly, you formulated a plan. You lifted your arm as if you were going to pick up your glass of water, but made a sweeping motion knocking your phone off Hanate’s side of the table. Bingo.

“Oh I’m so sorry about that. My hand slipped. Could you grab it for me?”

“Uh sure no problem”

The moment his head dipped below the table, you made eye contact with Atsumu and made a quick motion dragging your thumb across your neck. Keep that up and you’re dead. He smirked and shrugged. Like I care. Bastard.

“Two minced tuna and spring onion rice balls”, Osamu was back at the table with your onigiri. Steam was billowing off the rice and the smell of the tuna wafted in the air.

“Wow it looks great! Thank you!”

The rice balls were delicious as always, but once you two started eating the conversation died. No matter what you asked Hanate’s responses were short. “Do you like the food?”, “Yeah…”, “Did you see that new movie?”, “Yeah…”. You took another bite resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Did getting roasted hurt his ego that much?

Once you finished eating you two split the bill and prepared to go your separate ways.

You turned to Hanate. “Well, I’m going to run to the bathroom before I head out, but today was nice.” It actually sucked but in case a second date was still an option you kept the thought to yourself. Even if this guy was clueless you could always dump him after you brought him to a family brunch.

“Yeah…”

~

Atsumu took another satisfying bite out of his onigiri. He’d been having a pretty shitty day, but watching y/n’s date crash and burn was the best thing he’d seen all week. Atsumu had no respect for useless, clueless people, so watching y/n roast this guy had been fucking hilarious. He did wonder why it seemed like she was trying to make this guy like her when she obviously didn’t like him. She was definitely out of this lame guy’s league, not that it was any of his business.

Atsumu watched as the guy in question picked up his phone, taking a call.

“Yeah…the date finished…yeah…not gonna lie though, she was kind of a stuck up bitch”

Atsumu scoffed and turned to tell the guy off, but before he could say anything the bathroom door swung open.

“At least I’m not a lazy asshole”, Y/n stepped out, looked at her date, and rolled her eyes. She flipped the guy off and walked right out the door.

Atsumu burst out laughing as the door slammed shut.

“She beat ya to it ‘Tsumu”, Osamu piped in from the cashier.

“Shut up ‘Samu”

~

Ugh what a waste of time. You were currently trying to forget about the stupid date by having a self care night. The candles were lit. Face mask was on. Wine glass was filled. You were about to turn on that new rom com movie that came out when your phone buzzed.

Mom:

I heard from Haru. You called him an asshole?? Y/n I can’t believe this

Lovely Daughter:

he called me a bitch first

Mom:

Okay fine we’ll just think of it as a test run but please try and be on your best behavior next week.

Lovely Daughter:

Next week?

Mom:

I ran into Rika at the farmers market and she told me her son is single. I already sent him the address to Onigiri Miya. You’ll meet him there next Sunday at 11.

Lovely Daughter:

!!!

You put your phone down. That was faster than you’d expected, but actually this worked in your favor. So the first date didn’t go so well, but that’s okay. This guy had just been especially bad, not to mention the banana head jerk who kept interfering. You sipped your drink with a sly smile. Next week you’d conquer romance for sure.

[siancore]

Title: Baked With Love

A/N: This is a SamBucky Bakery AU based on the graphic novel Bloom

Summary: Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.  

Words: 3,073

AO3 Link

The joyful laughter and chatter rose high above the music as the guests of the backyard wedding danced gleefully. Bucky sat over near the wall and lifted his head to see his sister’s smiling face. Becca looked so happy as she threw her head back and then twirled around the dancefloor. He was pleased for her, and glad that she was finally getting away from their small town, but somewhere deep inside he knew what it meant for him: More time at his family’s Bakery and less of a chance of him actually leaving as well. He frowned to himself and placed his drink down on the empty chair beside him. He watched the smiling partygoers a moment longer until his vision was impeded by a man’s figure.

“Bucky, why aren’t you out there enjoying yourself?” asked his father, George. “It’s your sister’s big day and you’re sat here with a face like a cat’s ass.”

The young man rolled his eyes and said, “I just don’t feel like dancing, Dad. Kinda wanna be alone right now.”

“At a celebration?”

“Yeah.”

George shook his head and said, “I’ll never understand you young people. Today isn’t about you, but you’re making it about you.”

“I’m not doin’ anything, Dad,” Bucky retorted, feeling annoyed. “You’re makin’ it about me. Why can’t you just let me be?”

Before his father could reply, Becca was standing next to George with her hand held out to her brother.

“C’mon,” she said as Bucky took hold of her hand and then stood.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“I just need to talk to you a minute,” she said, before kissing their father on the cheek. “We’ll be back in a sec.”

Becca led Bucky up the stairs into her old bedroom and closed the door. She walked to her closet and pulled out her sneakers before sitting down, kicking off her heels, and pulling the comfortable shoes on.

“Ugh, my feet are so sore,” she sighed as she laced the sneakers. “Glad to get these off.”

“Bec, you wanted to talk?” asked Bucky as he ran his fingers through his hair.

She patted the spot on the bed beside her and Bucky took a seat.

“Can you believe it, Buck?” she asked as she nudged his shoulder with hers. “I’m a married woman.”

He smiled a genuine smile and nudged her back before saying, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know, but you couldn’t tell that from the way you were moping around down there,” she proffered. “That moody musician thing really doesn’t suit you.”

“Sorry. I was just in my own head. I’m gonna miss havin’ you around.”

“Aww, I’m gonna miss you too, Buck.”

“And Dad’s gonna be on my case a lot more now.”

“Hey, he means well, you know?”

“I know, but it’s like he doesn’t support my dreams with the band.”

“He just doesn’t understand,” said Becca as she rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. “All he’s ever known is baking and taking care of his family. He wants what’s best for us.”

“I know, I just want to get outta here so bad, y’know?”

“Yeah, but Mom and Dad are gonna need your help around here for a while,” Becca explained. “Especially with me leaving.”

“You sound like Dad.”

“Well, he’s not always wrong about everything, Buck.”

“He told you to break up with Scott like five times or whatever, and now you’re married, so he’s definitely wrong sometimes.”

“Okay, smartass,” Becca said with a laugh. “All I’m sayin’ is, I’m moving out. The Bakery isn’t doin’ that great, and Mom and Dad are gonna need some help.”

“I get it, and I am helping,” said Bucky. “At least for a little while longer.”

One thing that Sam Wilson really loved about being back in the town where his father grew up was the abundance of fresh food. The fish markets were a literal five-minute stroll from his Gramma’s house, and the grocery stores stocked a lot of fresh, local produce. As someone who loved to cook, Sam was enjoying taking a languid walk through the store, with his shopping basket, while perusing the goods.

While it was only him staying in his family’s old house, his friends were making the trip to come and see him. He had made the decision to take time off from school to pack up his Gramma’s house after she had passed. He needed to get away from it all for a little while, so being in the town that held so many fond childhood memories for him was nice, even though it felt different without his Gramma there.

Sam was drawn from his thoughts by a loud squeal. He turned to see a woman, around his mother’s age, rushing toward him with a wide smile on her face. He did not recognize her, but she seemed to know him.

“Oh my god, Sam Wilson!” she said as she stepped into his personal space and went for a hug.

Sam stood frozen and offered a small smile.

“Hi,” he replied, not knowing what else to say.

The woman stepped back and let her eyes roam up and down Sam’s body before saying, “Look at you, all grown up.”

Her tone was quite suggestive, and Sam immediately felt uncomfortable. She reached her hand over and placed it to Sam’s bicep.

“My word, you look just like your father when we went to high school together,” said the woman as she gave Sam’s arm a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, I –”

“You don’t remember me?” she asked, with a pout and a flutter of her eye lids. “You were just a boy the last time I saw you, now look at you, looking every bit a man. Looking just like your father; goodness me, you’re built like him, too.”

Sam blinked a few times and didn’t say anything.

“What’re you doing here in town? Is your father here, too?”

“No, umm, Dad’s not uh, he’s not here. Just me. I’m packin’ Gramma’s house up.”

“Oh, so you’re here in that big house all on your own?”

“Y-yeah?”

“And you’re buying food to cook for yourself?”

“Yes, ma’am. Gotta eat.”

She dragged her eyes over his form once again and said, “Hmm, you do to keep a body like that well-fed.”

Sam did not know what else to say except to excuse himself.

“I really have to go now, but it was nice seein’ you.”

“Now hold on a minute,” she said, talking hold of his upper arm once more. “A fine-looking young man like you shouldn’t have to cook his own dinner. Why don’t I grab a bottle of wine and join you?”

“Oh, no thank you, ma’am,” said Sam as he began to back away. “That really isn��t necessary. But, uh, thanks for the offer? You have a good night.”

She looked disappointed, but ogled Sam one more time before saying, “Alright, say hello to that handsome father of yours.”

The alarm on Bucky’s phone sounded and he let out a groan. He did not usually have to do the early morning shifts, but since Becca had left, it was up to him. He rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. A quick shower would liven him up. He got ready and then made his way to the kitchen. His father was already there finishing his coffee. Father and son greeted one another, and Bucky made a beeline straight to the coffee pot.

“Ready for the day?” asked George with a smile.

“Ugh, how can you be so chipper at this ungodly hour?”

George shrugged and said, “I love what I do.”

Bucky didn’t say anything in reply. He wasn’t in the mood to bicker with his father, especially at that hour of the morning.

“Come on,” said George, taking his son’s silence as a hint that the conversation was over. “Let’s get to work.”

….

By the time a few customers started coming into the Bakery, Bucky was tired and covered in flour. They were not going to be baking anything else at that point because sales weren’t particularly great in recent times. Hardly anyone came into the shop anymore. Most of their profits were made from customers who still paid for deliveries.

“You’re back here sitting on your phone, James?” asked George. He only called Bucky James when he was annoyed with him.

Bucky removed his earbuds, lifted his gaze from his screen, and said, “Uh?”

“Your phone, you’re always on it.”

“I’m waiting for Steve to text me back,” Bucky explained. “He’s looking at apartments in the city today. Was gonna send me pics.”

“You’re still going on about moving when we need you here?” “What about what I need?” asked Bucky as he paused the video of his band’s rehearsal. “Look at this.”

He held the phone out for his father to see, put the earbud in his ear, and then pressed play. The music started and George knit his brow as he removed the earbud and handed the device back.

“Son, what is this?”

“It’s my band, Dad.”

“You’re not even the singer.”

Bucky sighed and placed the phone back in his pocket.

“That doesn’t matter. I love music, you know that. Playing in this band with Steve, T’Challa, and Okoye is important to me. We’re gonna get an apartment and move away, Dad.”

“What about helping me and your mother?”

“I am helping.”

“But you’re leaving, also.”

Bucky sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t like being at odds with his father, but he wanted to do what he loved.

“You used to love helping me out in the Bakery when you were younger. Do remember how much fun we used to have?”

“Yeah, Dad, I do. But things change. I just don’t love it like I used to. I love music. When we couldn’t afford for me to go to school to study music, I didn’t make a fuss about it. I stayed here and helped out. Playing in the band with the guys has been good for me.”

“Bucky,” said George as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Me and your mother wanted you to go to college. It broke our hearts when we didn’t have the money to send you. We do want you to do what you love, we’re just having a tough time ourselves with the Bakery.”

Bucky and George stood a moment in the quiet until Bucky spoke again.

“Dad, I get it, and I’m not upset about it. I know we didn’t have the money and I know things have been tough, but I’m still leaving when Steve finds an apartment for us.”

George let out a loud sigh and then began to walk away.

“Wait,” said Bucky, as he reached out took hold of his father’s arm gently. “What if I find someone?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“If I find someone to replace me to help you out at the Bakery,” said Bucky, his eyes lighting up at his idea. “I could find someone really good, and then you’d get the help you need, and I can still leave.”

George sighed and said, “Let’s talk about it later. You should go make your deliveries now.”

Bucky placed the orders to the back of the Moped and then went to do his rounds. He enjoyed this part of working at the Bakery. He enjoyed getting out and about; feeling the wind in his hair; letting his mind go blank a moment in a welcome departure from all of the stress and worry. When he was scooting around town, he felt like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Having made the rounds, Bucky decided to take a shortcut on his way home. He rode up the small street of a residential neighborhood and some movement just ahead caught his eye. A guy, maybe a year or so older than him, was walking down a garden path carrying some trash. It was the day before the trash was to be collected, so there was nothing particularly interesting about it. Except the guy was drop-dead gorgeous.

Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the stranger, who was now looking right back at him. He didn’t know whether to smile or wave. He should have done something, other than stare at the dude like a creep. Perhaps watch where he was going, because just ahead were two trashcans full of smelly, discarded things.

Just before he was about to collide with the trashcans, Bucky regained composure and control, and straightened up. That could have been very embarrassing, he thought to himself, as he sped along home hoping the hot guy didn’t see his near-accident.

Misty Knight was rolling on her bed laughing as Sam shook his head and watched her through Skype. She was absolutely amused by Sam’s retelling of meeting the strange lady in the grocery store the previous evening.

“It’s not funny, Misty,” said Sam, even though he did miss his friend’s laughter.

“Sorry, Sammy,” she said while trying to recover. “It’s just typical, isn’t it? No matter where you go, someone’s hittin’ on you. Even old ass ladies in the grocery store.”

“I can’t believe my Dad knew her.”

“Can’t believe she was so shameless.”

“I know right,” said Sam as he ran his hand over his brow. “And offering to cook for me? Please, I know my way around a kitchen.”

“Oh, no, baby boy,” said Misty with a chuckle. “She wasn’t tryna cook for you, she was tryna eat you.”

“God, Misty, don’t say nasty things.”

“Sorry Sammy.”

“I wouldn’t have been in that situation if you didn’t put in a request for all the things you want me to cook while you’re here.”

“True, but you know I love your cooking,” she said with a smile. “Also, Riley’s comin’.”

“What?”

“He asked if I was going to see you, and I said yes, and he asked if he could come. Is that okay?”

“You should’ve asked first, Misty. But it’s cool. We’re friends and this’ll be a good reminder for him.”

“Plus, he’s got competition from the local thirsty-over-forty-crowd.”

Sam groaned and said, “Ugh. Why do I tell you anything? Change the subject please.”

“Alright. Alright. So, does it feel weird bein’ in the house on your own?”

“Yeah, kinda,” said Sam as he rubbed his hand over the back of his head. “It’s quiet. And feels sad.”

“I’m sorry, baby boy.”

“Thanks, pretty girl,” Sam proffered with a sigh. “It’s just that the last good memory I had was at Christmas time. The house was full of family and great food. Gramma was laughin’ and smiling so much you couldn’t even tell she was sick. She let me help her in the kitchen, and she never let anybody in her kitchen.”

Sam smiled a little sadly and Misty nodded her head before saying, “It’s nice that you got your love of cooking from her.”

Sam nodded his head and then said, “Oh, that reminds me, I found Gramma’s recipe book.”

“Oh my god, Sam, really? You looked for it everywhere after the funeral. Where was it?”

“Was right there on the shelf near her spice rack, Mist, I swear.”

“You looked there!”

“I know, right!” said Sam with an excitable look on his face. “It’s like it was just sittin’ there waiting for me.”

“Did you go through it?”

“Yeah, it’s still the most gorgeous book I’ve ever seen,” said Sam nostalgically. “All of our family’s recipes handwritten by Gramma and her Mama. Then it’s got my pancake recipe she let me write down. It’s so special.”

Sam felt the tears well in his eyes as he spoke; his voice cracked a little. Misty noticed.

“Hey, so you know what you should do?” she asked.

“What?”

“You should cook one of your Gramma’s recipes,” said Misty with a smile. “It’ll make you feel better, Sammy. I know it will.”

Misty was right. Sam had made a small, simple dish from his grandmother’s book. He immediately felt better. A tummy full of his Gramma’s mac and cheese always felt like a warm hug. He was going to be alright. He was.

After Sam cleaned his dishes and tidied up, he went to take the trash out front. He noticed someone flying along on a scooter. It was a young guy, probably around his age. The guy made eye contact and just kept staring at Sam, so Sam stared back, kind of entranced by the way the wind swept through his dark brown tresses.

Sam should have done something, other than stare back at the guy like some kind of creep. A wave or a smile would have done the trick. Instead, Sam was at a loss for words and actions. He almost called out when the guy nearly hit a couple of trashcans a few doors down, but he was gone before Sam could do anything. He walked back to the house wondering if he would ever see the stranger again.

After Bucky returned home, he parked the Moped near the Bakery and then went inside to clean up. After he was done, he locked up he made his way inside his family’s home. Dinner was already on the table and his mother, Winnie, asked if he was going to have something to eat.

“Sorry, Ma,” said Bucky with an apologetic smile. “I’m off to band practice now.”

“You can’t have a meal with your family?” George asked as he stepped into the room and sat down.

Bucky let out a sigh and said, “Music is important to me. I don’t wanna roll dough for the rest of my life.”

He knew his words hurt his father as soon as he had spoken them.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a baker,” was George’s reply. “I know,” Bucky said when he saw the hurt in his father’s eyes. “And I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that music is what I wanna do, and practice will make sure I’m good at it. I gotta go.”

“At least take a bread roll with you,” said Winnie softly.

“Thanks, Ma,” said Bucky as he inched toward the door before stopping. “I’ll make the flyers up later to advertise the position and get them posted tomorrow. It’s gonna be okay, Dad.”

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Seventy-One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“Harry!” You call for him from the bathroom. Saturday morning, the day of your house warming party. “Harry Edward Styles!”

He comes running in from the kitchen, almost slipping since he had socks on his feet. You were looking at yourself in the mirror.

“What? What is it?”

“You just haaaaad to fuck my neck up last night, right? You couldn’t have taken your fucking rings off?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining while I was doin’ it.” He says with a smirk.

“Couldn’t exactly talk, could I?”

“I never choke you hard enough that you can’t speak, come on.” He steps into the bathroom to look at the bruises on your neck. “Shit.”

“See!” You groan. “I wouldn’t care, but it’s too hot to wear a scarf, and you know, my entire fucking family is coming later. I can put some makeup on, but it’ll only help so much.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No…” You look at him. “Ugh, why do we have to be into such hard shit, why can’t we just like do it and be dainty?” Harry starts laughing.

“Wouldn’t be very satisfying would it?” He gives your bum a smack and leaves you in the bathroom.

You sigh heavily and go out to the kitchen where Harry was making banana pancakes. You sit up on the counter next to him. You were only wearing one of his white t-shirts and a pair of his black boxers.

“You should get dressed.” He says as he flips a pancake.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you look too sexy in my clothes and I’m gonna have to fuck you, and we just don’t have the time. We have to eat, get dressed, and then go to the store to pick up all the food we ordered for the party.” He looks you up and down. “So go change.”

“Harry…you’re standing there in a pair of boxers, and you’re telling me I need to change?”

“You have more self control than I do.” He flips another pancake.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” He gets all the pancakes onto a plate and turns the stove off.You hop off from the counter and stand in front of him.

“See, I really don’t think I do. I think you have way more self control than I do.” You start palming him through his boxers.

“We really don’t have time.”

“Oh honey, I only need five minutes.”

You kneel in front of him and tug his boxers down slightly. You don’t waste anytime licking up and down his shaft. He grips the handle on the oven when you wrap your lips around his tip and suckle on it. You grip his thighs and take him deeper down your throat.

“Ah!” He moans. “Y/N.”

You swallow and he bucks his hips forward. You bob up and down on him quickly. You groan against him and cradle his balls.

“Fuck!”

He comes in your mouth, and you take all of it. You swallow with him in your mouth, and suck on him still.”

“Please.” He breathes.

You come off him and stand up. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach around him to grab a pancake, biting into it.

“Mm, so good Harry, you’re such a good cook.” His mouth hangs open. “Well don’t just stand there, we need to eat, get dressed, and then go pick up all the food.”

//

Buster was being such a good boy while you and Harry ran around getting everything together. People would start showing up in an hour or so. You were in the bathroom pressing concealer to your neck.

“Okay, how’s it look? I think with my hair down it should be fine.”

“I don’t think anyone will notice, especially since you look so cute.”

You were wearing a cute light blue sundress with small white polka dots. Harry was wearing a pair of pastel purple slacks with a white shirt tucked in. Top buttons undone so you could just see the top of his butterfly tattoo.

“God, you look handsome.”

“You don’t think I should button up a bit?”

“No the whole outfit works better this way. And your pearls look so nice with it too.”

You both walk out to the living room and wait for people to show up.

//

Niall and Sarah came over first so you’d have a buffer. The boys were talking about their upcoming trip while the two of you were outside on the balcony.

“I’m gonna say it, Harry looks really hot.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” You both giggle. “He had his glasses on earlier with the entire ensemble, and oh my god, he looked like a really sexy teacher or something.”

“What is it about a man in glasses? I love when Niall wears his.”

“Hey babe?” Harry says coming out to you both.

“Yeah?”

“Erica and her boyfriend just got here.”

“Oh! Okay.” You stand up and Sarah follows you in.

You greet the two of them and start showing them around. Buster follows close next to you. Your mom and Bridget show up next, followed by your Aunt and Uncle. Kyle, Lora, and Michael are the last of your family to show up. Mariah and Rachel, Louis and Eleanor, and a few other friends all show up around the same time.

Your great uncle, his wife, and your cousins all show up as well. It was definitely a packed house. You were having a great time showing everyone around, and grateful that Buster was being so well behaved.

Erica can’t help but keep squinting at your neck. She could tell you had makeup on, but she couldn’t really understand why you would need it on your neck. She comes over closer to you to join the conversation you were in, just so she could get a better look.

“I got it for him in Aruba, isn’t it beautiful.” You were showing Louis and Eleanor the sunflower ring you had gotten for Harry.

Erica’s eyebrows raise when she looks at Harry’s rings, and then your neck. She walks away and goes to talk with Kyle. Most of the people were in the living area and balcony. Many of the kids around were playing with Buster.

“Harry, could you grab me another seltzer from the fridge?” You ask him.

“Sure! Be right back.”

There weren’t any people in the kitchen, so Erica and Kyle follow Harry in. He jumps when he sees them behind him.

“Um, hey, you guys havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s a great party.” She squints at him.

“Can, I get either of you anything? The coolers should be full of drinks, Y/N just wanted hers in here.”

“Harry, we need to ask you something.” Kyle says, stepping closer to him.

“Sure, anythin’.”

“Are you hurting our sister?” Erica asks.

“What?” He looks at the two of them in complete shock. “No, why would either of you think that?”

“She has makeup all over her neck, and the spots look like where your rings would be.”

“Listen, uh-“

You walk into the kitchen.

“Babe, what’s…what’s going on in here?” You walk over to the fridge and grab your seltzer. You crack it open and take a sip.

“They asked me if I’ve been hurtin’ you cause your sister saw the makeup on your neck.” Your cheeks heat up.

“Oh my god.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you two stupid? Why would we invite you all hear if he was abusing me?”

“I’ve read before that people who have been abused in the past tend to-“

“Erica, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Harry says. “I am not, and would never hurt your sister in any way.”

“Then why’s her neck look like that?” Kyle asks. You more your hair to over it more.

“Are you sure you wanna know the answer to that?” You ask with red cheeks.

“What possible other explanation could there be?” Erica asks.

“Harry, leave the room, I can’t tell them with you standing here.”

“Oh my god.” He says and leaves through the other door. You take a deep breath.

“Sometimes…when we’re intimate…Harry and I…lightly…choke each other.”

“What?!” They say in unison.

“It doesn’t happen all the time, just sometimes. And we do it to each other, he doesn’t always do it to me. It just sort of happened last night, and he forgot to take his rings off so it looks worse than it is. It doesn’t hurt, I promise.”

“Who are you?!” Erica asks. “You like that sort of thing?”

“It’s really not that weird, a lot of people do it.” Harry comes back in to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, this is such a weird conversation. I don’t think we need to explain what goes on between us. Like she said, no one’s gettin’ hurt.”

“It doesn’t trigger you?” She asks.

“No.” You look over at Kyle who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. You both burst out laughing.

“You know what, I don’t care what the fuck you two do.” Kyle says. “Just glad you’re not beating on my sister.” Kyle says and walks out of the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go see if anyone needs anything.” Harry says and leaves again.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me instead of confronting him.”

“I panicked! I feel like I don’t even know you sometimes.” She sighs.

“Erica, we’re two very different people. I’m sure there are things you do with your boyfriend…”

“How does that even come up? Like, hey babe let’s try choking each other.” You can’t help but giggle.

“It’s a heat of the moment type of thing. We talk through it, make sure the other is okay.”

“And you do it to him too?”

“Yup.”

“Jesus.”

“We like what we like, and that’s okay.” You put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t like it? Don’t have someone choke you.” She rolls her eyes at you and you both laugh.

Luckily, that was the only hitch in the party. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. There was plenty of food, and plenty to drink. Eventually your family starts to trickle out and it ends up just being the core eight of you. You were all sitting on the floor in a circle.

“Hey! Let’s play truth or dare or something.” Sarah suggests.

“Do we have a bottle to use?” Rachel asks.

“A bottle?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, it keeps it fair. Put it in the middle and spin it.”

“I’ll grab one of the empty wine bottles.” You say, getting up to grab one from the kitchen.

“We did this at kickbacks all the time in school.” Sarah explains. You come back with the bottle and place it in the middle.

“Everyone have a drink?” You ask. “Good, this game’s more fun when you’re drunk…sorry El.”

“No worries, totally don’t mind bein’ sober.”

“Okay everyone, let’s keep it lighthearted.” Rachel says. “Fun truths only. And we play a little differently. It’s not really a dare. If you choose not to answer the question, you have to take a sip of your drink, or a shot.”

“We do have a bottle of tequila.” Harry says. “Should I just get that and we can take turns swiggin’ from it?”

“Think that’s brilliant, mate.” Louis says. Harry gets up and gets the alcohol.

“Y/N, you spin first.” Mariah says.

You tip the bottle on its side and spin it, it lands on Rachel and you smile.

“Okay, Rach, tell the story of your first kiss.” She raises her middle finger to you.

“Fine. I was twelve, it was at summer camp, and it was with a boy named Joel. We both had braces and they got locked together, so we had to walk all the way to the medical tent like idiots, and wait for the nurse to try to figure out how to get us unstuck.” The group laughs.

“When was your first kiss with a girl?” Niall asks.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not your turn yet.” She says with a smirk. She spins the bottle and it lands on Louis. “Hmmm.” She taps her chin to think of something. Harry leans over to her and whispers in her ear.

“Oi! No helpin’.”

Rachel giggles and Harry leans back to his spot.

“Louis, where is your most embarrassing tattoo located?”

Louis flips off Harry and takes a swig of the tequila. Louis spins the bottle and it lands on Sarah.

“Did you hook up with Niall the night you met?” Her jaw drops.

“That’s no secret, of course I did.” She looks at him. “Couldn’t resist.” She looks back at everyone else. “He was so charming, and such a good dancer.”

She spins the bottle and it lands on you.

“Alright, there’s a question I’ve been dying to ask since I got here.” She giggles. “What’s with all the makeup on your neck?”

You look at Harry, then the bottle of tequila. You grab it and take a swig. You were not having this conversation again. The group makes a noise and everyone laughs. You spin the bottle and it lands on Niall.

“Have you ever ripped your pants in public?”

“You suck.” He groans. “Yes, at last year’s work holiday party, I ripped my pants on the dance floor.” Everyone laughs. “I dropped it low and my pants split.” Harry bursts out laughing. “Least my pants didn’t rip so bad that my underwear ripped too and my dick popped out.” Harry shuts up immediately and Louis starts laughing.

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask.

“S’not my turn.”

Niall takes the bottle and points it towards Harry.

“Elaborate.”

“Cheatin’.”

“Tell the story.”

“Oh my god, we were havin’ a party, was it undergrad or grad?” He looks at Louis.

“I can’t fuckin’ remember.” He laughs.

“Right, well, I was wearin’ a tight pair of black jeans and I opted to go commando, don’t ask me why, so no my boxer’s didn’t rip. I think I squatted and my pants ripped open and everything just fell out.” He starts laughing. “It was pretty funny, I’m just glad we were at our own place so I could change.”

“Did everyone see?”

“Just Lou and Niall.” Harry takes the bottle and spins it. It lands on Mariah.

“Oh god.”

“Did you ever have sex in the office at Plant Geo?” She glares at him and takes a swig of the tequila.

“You’re evil.”

As the rounds go on, everyone, besides Eleanor, gets pretty drunk.  The bottle lands on you again.

“Okay,” Rachel asks. “Talk about your first kiss.” You scrunch your nose.

“I was fourteen, and it was at the freshman/sophomore semi. I was nervous all night because it was also my first date. I asked him to go with me through a note.” You laugh. “It was during Stairway to Heaven, naturally. I remember we both looked each other, smiled, and Erica had told me before we left that I should never let a boy shove his tongue down my throat, so when I looked right before we made eye-contact and saw the tip of his tongue peak out, I made sure my lips were super tight. It was essentially a lip touch.” You laugh again. “And that was it, and we kept dancing.”

“That’s so cute!” Harry slurs.

“Can we just tell cute stories and take turns drinking the tequila?” Rachel asks.

“Oh, I think that’s a great idea.”

Everyone else tells the story of their first kiss, and then it gets to Harry.

“Took her out to this park, and we went behind a tree. It was pretty steamy.” Everyone laughs.

When it starts to get really late, everyone decides to call it a night. Louis and Eleanor were staying over with you guys.

“So.” You hiccup. “Everything you should need is in the bathroom. Help yourself to anything in the fridge if you get hungry, and we’ll see you in the morning. Oh, Buster shouldn’t bother you either, he usually stays in his bed all night.”

“Thanks again.” Eleanor says. “Goodnight.”

“Night, mate.” Harry says to Louis.

“Night.” He smiles.

The two of you go into your room. You wash your face and neck. The bruises were starting to fade. You get into bed with him, and kiss for a bit. He moves his leg between yours.

“Harry.” You whisper.

“What?”

“We have guests.”

“And?”

“We can’t.”

“C’mon, I’ve been dyin’ to get in there all day. They won’t hear anythin’.”

“I don’t like having to be quiet.”

“Y/N.” He whines.

“Okay fine, but we have to stay on our sides the bed won’t creak as much.”

You flip over so your back is against his chest. He slips in effortlessly.

“You’re such a little liar, you were already wet.” He says into your ear.

“You looked so sexy today, I’m sure I’ve been wet for a while.”

He starts to rock in and out of you, his hand rubbing your clit and his other on your breast, twisting your piercing. You gasp and bite down on your palm.

“You feel so fuckin’ good.” He says into your ear, and you feel tears prick at your eyes from the pleasure. “Always so tight and wet f’me.” You groan as he drive in deeper. “Ever been so wet for someone before?” You groan your response. “Use your words, babe.”

“No, never. Only, fuck, only you.”

You start panting and push back against him, you cup your mouth over your hand as you come and his release comes shortly after. You feel his breath on the back of your neck as his breathing slows back down.

//

The next morning Harry gets up to take Buster out. Louis was in the kitchen making himself a coffee.

“Hey mate, sleep well?” Harry asks coming back with Buster.

“Yeah, bed’s super comfy. El’s still sleepin’.”

“So is Y/N, she’s real tired.” Harry winks at him.

“You slept with her while we were in the next room?”

“Uh…yeah?”

“Must be nice.”

“You and El aren’t…”

“Not in a while. She’s felt…not so attractive now that her bump’s growing. Everything else is growin’ too so she just feels gross. I think she looks fantastic, but she’s super emotional from the hormones.”

“Aw man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

“She rarely let’s me touch her. I’m hopin’ once she levels out a bit she’ll feel more up to it.”

“I thought pregnant women were like always horny.”

“So did I…” He laughs. “Maybe that’ll come in the third trimester.”

“I’ll prey for you.” He makes himself a cup of coffee. “There was like two weeks once where Y/N went without doin’ it and I thought I was going to explode.”

“Two weeks? Try two months and then talk to me.”

“Two months?!”

“Shhh, do you wanna wake them up?”

“Sorry, two months?”

“Yeah, I told yeh, she’s not feelin’ great. I’ve tried everything. She’s just starting to let me cuddle her again. I’m not pushin’ it.”

“I literally don’t know how I would survive.”

“How you’d survive what?” You say coming into the kitchen with your robe on and some pj’s underneath. “Morning, Lou.”

“Mornin’, love.” You smile at each other and you go to make yourself some coffee.

“Where’s my baby?”

“I’m-“

“There he is, good morning Buster.” You rub his tummy as your coffee brews. “So, what would you need to survive?”

“Nothin’.” Harry smiles at you and kisses the top of you head.

“Where’s El?”

“Sleepin’ still…she’s been really tired lately. I’m actually gonna bring her tea into her.” He walks out of the kitchen and back to the guest room.

“This is so nice for you two, three weekends in a row you get to hang out.”

“Yeah, it’s great. I’m glad they stayed with us.”

“Me too.” You yawn. You warp your arms around his waist. “You okay?”

“Yeah, perfectly fine.” He smiles.

Harry was not fine. He was suddenly terrified. He needed the camping’ trip stat. Two entire months of no contact? What if that happened to him and you when you get pregnant? Had he spent most of his adult life romanticizing the entire thing?

[leah-halliwell92]

Happy Birthday Freddie

Summary: Just something short I wanted to write.

Mom and Granny had been telling me the same thing for years now.

“He’d have doted on you as if you were his own,” mom said quickly followed by granny with, “Especially with that no good father of yours Mercy.”

I rolled my eyes as I kept on walking to where mom had told me about for as long as I could remember. I felt my heart skip beats the closer I got to this special place, especially considering what it meant to mom. He’d been close to mom for years and became the support she needed after my dad left us even when he got sick. I remember uncle Jim being an ever present fixture in my life. Supporting what my grandfather believed to be a pipe dream of becoming a singer. How he backed me fully when he introduced me to Uncles Bri and Rog and through them the enormous family I have now.

I remember the devastation that came with his passing, how raw and numb I felt knowing I’d lost my biggest support. But I kept going, I had to beg uncle Bri not to put a word in for me unless it was truly necessary to do so. I wanted to at least get noticed on my own. And I did, I got my big break and then only then did I agree that it was finally time for a collaborative project with my uncles. 

Now a week before said project is due to start, I found myself here...to tell that one uncle I always wished I had that I'd made it. I was a champion in my own right and I was going to ride this as long as I could. I saw the almost ethereally tall tree and gasped at the sheer height of it. It was no wonder mom and uncle Fred loved this place. It’s isolated without feeling empty or desolate. I sat at the base in a naturally shaped space carved out by the roots of the tree and settled in. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply feeling both jittery and stupid for what I was about to do.

“Hi,” I began just going for it, “I know you probably don’t know me but my mom said you were the best man in her life and has been saying so for all of mine. If it wasn’t for the photos and uncle Jim I’d have never believed mom and gran knew you as personally as I know uncles Bri and Rog. Phoebe likes to tell me stories of you too! Of how funny you were and all the stunts you pulled. But most importantly, they told me of your spirit, your heart and kindness, of how you were with friends and family, and I can’t help but think that I missed out on one hell of an uncle.”

You stopped and dabbed away at the tear that fell before clearing your throat and continuing, “Is it horrible of me for wishing you were here? Uncle Jim used to say that it was and wasn’t at the same time. He used to say that things happened for a reason and that that reason is often not known by anyone. I didn’t understand then but I seemed to as I grew older and he got sicker.”

You gave a watery chuckle at all those conversations. 

“I’d always say I didn’t care and that the one who got you sick should get his ass handed to him for depriving me of my other uncle, of taking away my uncle’s brother and uncle Jim’s husband. I was so angry and sad and lonely because I felt alone in what I wanted to do,” I stopped for a moment and took several deep breaths. I can’t break now, I needed him to know.

“Uncle Jim told me once that mom, him and you would have been the best set of parents anyone could ask for. Grandpa got so angry for calling uncle Jim ‘Dad’ once despite my gran and mom having no problem with it and the pride in their eyes. How could I not? He raised me, he was the only dad I had,” you said, “Anyway, I hadn't come here to make anyone sad. I came here because well because I wanted to feel close to you in a way. And coming here seemed to be the closest and most obvious place considering how mom feels about it. And uncle Bri says that he talks to you a lot too. I also figured that your birthday would be an obvious day to do it too. So...instead of singing happy birthday I’m going to do the next best thing.”

I wiped my tears away and stood clearing my throat once I was on my feet.

“Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time I feel alive and the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah And floating around in ecstasy So don't stop me now don't stop me 'Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time

I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva I'm gonna go, go, go

There's no stopping meI'm burnin' through the sky, yeah Two hundred degrees That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit I'm traveling at the speed of light I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time I'm having a ball Don't stop me now If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call Don't stop me now ('cause I'm having a good time) Don't stop me now (yes, I'm havin' a good time) I don't want to stop at all...”

I breathed a sigh of relief as a weighted seemed to lift and an unexpected warmth bloomed. As I walked out, I swore I heard humming but chucked it on it being the wind through the trees. I passed by the florist and picked up some yellow roses for the vase at home and some lunch feeling so much lighter than I did earlier. 

Walking to the door passed the gate of my home I found a cat hiding behind the flower pot of daffodils mom insisted on keeping around. He looked spooked and cold so I decided to get him inside warm and fed.

The rest of the day was spent nursing this kitty back to health before having to go to Uncle Bri’s to work. The cat seemed adamant to sleep on the mantle above the hearth where a picture of uncle Jim stood. I found odd but not unlikely, granny always said to be open to all sorts of possibilities growing up. 

I grinned knowingly at the cat and put the roses in the vase that stood beside Uncle Jim’s photograph. The sparkle in his eye was unmistakeable and strangely familiar, as if he knew something I didn’t. I walked up to him and pet him behind his ears. 

“I guess tomorrow we’re going to the vet then huh?” I asked a smirk on my face, “I guess a name tag will be good too...I’ve always been fond of the name Freddie.”

00//00//00

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[kylo-hen]

Saturday Morning

A/N: I started this little blurb last night at like 3 AM and then I decided I would just finish it up and post it this morning. This is a product of extreme baby fever and love for Clyde “big bear” Logan. I’m a whore for Clyde just in case anyone wanted to know

Dad!Clyde Logan X Mom! Reader

Summary: Clyde lets you sleep in while he takes care of your son for the morning. 

Warnings: FLUFF, Babies/being a mother, more fluff, a baby wrap/baby bjorn, breakfast.

     There is something to be said about sleeping in when you’re exhausted. When the weight of your eyelids slips away with each waking minute you spend in the throws of a subconscious wasteland. The sun streaming in through the window in the bedroom, long having risen and now streamed in through the thick weathered branches of the tree that twisted over the house. The bird’s song has come and gone; the worm already been stolen by those awake to take it. And through all that there was peace.

     Waking up for the first time past the suns rise was not something I was ever expecting, not with a seven-month-old baby. As I lay, still steeping in the sleep induced haze, in the sunlight cozied up in the layers of blankets I insisted on pulling out every winter I couldn’t help but feel an absolute sense of joy rush though me.

    Clyde logan was the best man I could have ever asked to spend my life with. He was uncharacteristically smooth when it came to the turbulence, I threw his way. The bad days always met with a slow and solid response of care, the worse days with gentle reminders that he would always love me, fights always ended in a calm discussion, and hardships were fought together.

    We had both wandered so long through life without a partner, spent days wondering if love was something, we would be able to treasure or if it was a distant memory we would have to forfeit to some greater and higher purpose. When I found him, I knew almost instantly that if he wasn’t the one for me there was no one out there. His tall and broad frame matched with a deep and husky southern twang made my heart flutter a million miles an hour. We married within the year.

    We wasted no time after getting married, knowing both of us were getting well into our thirties, it was time for our family to grow, and grow it did. Five months after we were officially married, we found out we were expecting, and the love only grew from there.

    I was pulled from my thoughts by the lingering smell of breakfast being made in the kitchen. Stretching out and realizing I had slept in until ten AM, an unspeakable feat for anyone who had a young child, and Clyde was letting me. My heart swelled with unspeakable appreciation for the man I loved, and with no other contemplation I rolled out of bed to greet my husband.

     Clyde was a sight to be seen, donning a pair of comfortable sweats and no shirt, with a baby wrap keeping our son pressed to his chest. The joy in my heart elevated with a deep carnal lust seeing the back muscles of the man I loved plating up some breakfast in the light of the peaceful morning. He was humming some old Elvis song as he rocked our son back to sleep. I crept up behind the pair of boys wrapping my hands around Clyde’s waist, resting my head in the divot between his sturdy shoulder blades.

    He tensed for a moment before realizing it was only me. “Scared me Darlin’” he chuckled, turning in my grasp to look at me. He leant over and gave me a quick kiss, the baby noticing his mom and beginning to squirm around in his wrap. “How’d ya sleep?”

     His iron gaze softened in my direction, waiting my response, “I slept great bubba,” His cheeks flushing at his favorite nickname, “Thank you for letting me sleep in so late.” I pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and changed my attention to the baby kicking his legs around for attention.

    “Woah there little man,” Clyde laughed at his son about to turn a big fuss if he isn’t in his mother’s arms in the next few seconds. “Looks like little Ollie missed his Mama, Huh? Me too.” He addressed leaning down so I could pull him from the front wrap. Oliver reaching for my hair as soon as I was in his reach. Clyde watching with affection in his eyes as Ollie snuggled into my neck with a happy smile and a fistful of my hair.

     “It’s amazing how much I can sleep when I don’t have to breast feed every couple hours.” I commented in a high baby voice so Ollie thought I was talking to him. The features of his face reminiscent of his fathers above us, a striking comparison in almost every way.

    “I’m glad you got some rest Darlin, lord knows you’ve been needin’ it.” He replied, Clyde had been worrying himself sick for the last month over my rest. Making sure I was sleeping as much as we could allow while I was still breast feeding but as soon as Ollie could cut back Clyde wanted me to take it easy. His worry extending to all avenues of his life but he never seemed to worry about anything as much as he worried about Oliver and I.

     “Didn’t even hear Ollie boy wake up!” I spoke in to the boy directly, him giving me a babble in response, excited his Mama was up and ready to play this morning. “Did you wake daddy this morning? Did Ollie boy wake daddy?” I performed for Oliver.

     “Nah, Daddy wanted to have a little bit of a boy mornin’ so Mama could rest.” Clyde played along with the performative baby talk for the sake of his son. “Made breakfast for ya’ Darlin’, I’ll go get him washed up while ya eat.” He took the boy back in his arm and up the stairs of our little farmhouse leaving me to eat.

     Breakfast passed with the same peace as before but I missed the coos and conversation my boys brought. Thankfully Clyde worked diligently despite his one-armed challenge and emerged with our son donning a new onesie his aunt had dropped by with just a few days ago.

    “Look at my handsome boys!” I exclaimed as they walked into the kitchen. Clyde laughing down at his son basking in the praise of his mother. “Ollie is so handsome, just like his Daddy!” I continued on, kissing Oliver all over his face and giving the same sentiment to his father.

    “Ollie’s been makin’ a big ol’ fuss that Mama didn’t join us.” Clyde huffed out, exploring the same sentiment as his son even if he did ask for me to relax downstairs while he took care of it. I always picked out Ollie’s outfits, Clyde claiming I was the ‘fashion expert’ of the house, and Clyde preferred to take a backseat to my ‘expertise’. “He’s a Mama’s boy, that’s for damn sure.” Clyde joked.

     “Oh, I don’t think so,” I argued bringing Oliver back into my grasp and rocking him around on my hip, “He just likes havin’ his Mama and Daddy’s attention all at once.” I explained while Clyde watched with glee at his two favorite people dancing around on a Saturday morning.

     “Oh, I don’t blame ‘im for bein’ so attatched to his Mama.” Clyde explained, wrapping his arm around my waist, bringing me and Oliver to nestle on his chest. “Not when his Mama’s so cute.” He commented.

      Clydes words only served to make my heart burst more. If there was a moment I wished I could frame, a singular moment in time where everything was just right, It would be that morning in the kitchen. The same kitchen that every rushed morning out the door for work, late returns and dinners eaten in the early mornings, the hushed arguments, the cherished reconciliation, and the life that happened within those four walls. There was a little nugget of perfect that morning and no amount of life could come around and change that.

A/N: Thanks for reading another complete self indulgent piece of work lmao. Come swing by my inbox and let me know what you thought! I also take requests for your self indulgent ideas!