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gucciwins · 3 years

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Roses and Romeo

Harry and Y/N come back to their hometown after eight years to open up a time capsule they buried ten years ago as high school sophomores.

Word count: 20,534

A/N: Hello beautiful friends, hope you’ve been well. I’m really excited to share this story. It is a former high school sweethearts to lovers. Thank you to @havethetimeofyourstyles Jill for creating timetravelathon and allowing me to participate. I am very sorry it’s later but I finished!!! I do hope you all love it.

Also this story is my baby, because i’ve never hit 20k before so this was new and exciting. I just had so many ideas for the story.

please come and tell me your favorite part!

_____

DECEMBER 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

It's December, and all that is on her mind is how the grass would look covered in snow. The cold breeze, an extra jacket to stay warm, a blanket to bundle up with her favorite person. Safe to say, she can only imagine it because California, specifically Southern California, isn't so keen on giving her this one gift she asks for each year.

A huge smile spreads over her face as soon as she sees her house up ahead.

It's not huge, but it is perfect for Y/N. She has the best memories growing up in a house full of love and laughter and the most gorgeous flowers. The iris and tulips bloomed extra bright this year. There is never a day her mom isn't fixing the garden. Her mother always makes sure she has fresh flowers in her room; right now, for the week, she has purple tulips. Also makes a lovely gift to take to her boyfriend. Harry always blushes when she brings him flowers.

It also gets her extra kisses.

Harry parks right outside but doesn't rush out to open her door like always, so she turns to look at him. He's tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; she patiently waits for him to speak up.

She'd wait all day if she could; he has a beautiful face, one that she will never get tired of gazing at. She especially loves that curl that flops down over his forehead; as much as he pushes it away, it bounces back as if he never moved it.

"It's Friday, love." Harry begins, "I think you should consider coming with me to a party."

She pouts. "No, I want to listen to that new record my dad found, and I also have lots to study. Big exam on Monday."

"You're always studying." He groans.

She frowns. "Not true! Calculus is my biggest enemy. Mr. Leanza is not easy on us."

"Okay, Miss 101%." He pokes her cheek.

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"I'm not going to go just for you to tease me."

Harry leans over and steals a kiss before she can dodge him. "Let's play a game." He sees her roll her eyes but asks her to hear him out.

She gestures for him to go on. "I go in and quiz you. Zero wrong out of all the flashcards you have in that bag of yours, and I get to take you with me. I already have parent permission. I'll have you know."

She narrows her eyes at him. Not ever surprised that her parents agreed, they trust Harry. He's given them no reason not to. She's about to tell him, no, but he gives her a big smile. His dimples are on full display, and she finds herself agreeing.

She mutters a small "okay."

Harry smiles, knowing how she likes to make him work for it, but he really enjoys finding new ways to win her over. He might have cheated, flashing her his dimples that he knows she can't resist, but he never said he played fair. "Only if I get to drive Nessie."

Nessie is Harry's classy white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230 SL. She was never interested in cars, but Harry speaks so fondly of his car that she has come to learn so much about it and loves it just as much as Harry and her father together taught her how to change a tire and check the oil on Nessie. They want to prepare her for anything, and she is thankful because Harry likes to test her from time to time.

Harry smirked, knowing how much she loves driving. She loves it but does not cave in letting her parents get her a car. Her parents have wanted to get her a car since she got her license at sixteen, but Y/N claims it is too much money to spend.

Her parents tell her they have saved enough for her and her education. It's like raising an only child. They remind Y/N all the time since her brother has graduated university and now lives in San Francisco as an engineer in a growing company.

Harry has been meeting discreetly behind her back with her parents on gifting her a car this Christmas. Although he fears that having a car will mean less of him driving her around. Meaning they will spend less time together and fewer backseat make-out sessions, but on an upside also means he'd have to help her christen it.

"Darling, you dating me for my car?"

"Yes, dearie. I started dating you back in our first year because you had Nessie, not because of those dimples and lame jokes.

"You told me you love them!" Harry gasps, offended.

"Tell you what you want to hear." She shrugs, getting out of the car.

"Hurting my feelings, love." Harry now stands in front of her taking her bag from her hand and closing the door behind her.

"Let's get inside." She pushes him to walk in quickly, knowing her parents aren't home yet and her mom isn't due for another thirty minutes, and she would really love to squeeze in a make-out session.

"Compliment me, then we can go in." Harry stands firm in front of her, a teasing glimmer in his emerald eyes.

She reaches up and places her hands on his cheek, planting a small kiss on his nose.

"You're a dreamboat, Styles." She whispers.

Harry can't help the blush that seems to be taking over his entire face.

She pecks his lips and skips around him. "Let's get studying, then you can help me pick my outfit for later."

Harry shakes himself out of the trance she always seems to leave him in. "God knows you need it

JUNE 1998 - SUMMER HOME

Y/N had always known she was a bit crazy but honestly, deciding on making a 44-hour road trip from Massachusetts to California, where her hometown of Aurora takes the cake.

Yes, she knows how unsafe it is to be a woman on the road alone, but she saved up for the trip and would be spending the entire summer home for the first time since graduating high school. A plus was that she knows the map really well, having studied it hard like one of her anatomy books. Also, helped that her father quizzed her on what roads and exits she would be taking.

She's a good driver; her father always told her everyone else is who she had to watch out for. Honestly, she thanked her family for pushing her to drive more, and now she loves being behind the wheel.

The road was never-ending, taking her where she wanted, and currently, she was aiming for home.

It's four hours until she reaches home, a home she has not lived in for over eight years. A place that holds her most precious memories as well as most heartbreaking.

She's driving with the window down, enjoying the breeze, knowing the heat will only get worse the closer to home. A car passes next to her; she looks over briefly, taking in the vehicle's blue color. It does look a bit old; as the driver accelerates their speed, she notices that it's a Mercedes-Benz but can't make the model seeing as the driver must be eager to reach their destination now speeding off. If she's honest, those types of cars remind her of one person, and that's how she knows she'll never escape because she finds meaning for them in anything and everything life has to offer.

The last few hours on the road pass relatively quickly because the next thing she knows, she's parking her Jeep Cherokee in what she used to call her parking. This car has spent nine years with her and runs like a dream. It was a gift from her parents, and at the time, she was nervous about the gesture but really grew to love it. It also came in handy, seeing as she now lives far from home and visits as much as she can. She hopes to make more trips up now that she has residency but knows it will be harder to get holidays off.

Her parents understand; they do. She's following her dreams and achieving each one, and that is all they could ever ask for.

Y/N gets out and gets her suitcase; it has her essentials and anything she's missing; she can come out later to get it, well her father will most likely fight her and do it on his own.

Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open. Her mother doesn't give her any time to react and simply wraps her in a hug. A tight one full of love and happiness, an embrace she will never get tired of.

"Hi, momma," Y/N murmurs, not at all ready to let go.

"Hello, my sweet girl. It's good to have you home."

"It's good being here. Feel younger already."

"Ah, same here. Come inside; I have lemonade served up and muffins because they are your favorite."

Y/N smiles, knowing how much her mother made sure to have her well-fed always. No matter what she told her, she wanted her with meat on her bones. This also meant anyone who she brought home was given a big meal as well. Telling everyone and anyone they were too thin then proceeding to provide them with a second serving. This was her mother's way of getting into people's hearts through their stomachs.

Y/N walked into the kitchen and smiled at how nothing had changed. Hanging on the refrigerator were her three graduation photos: high school at seventeen, ready to take the world by storm, at twenty-one graduating with the highest honor from Columbia University, and the last was graduating Harvard Medical school this past spring. She knew the next to join would be a photo of her on the first day of her residency.

"Your father refuses to take any down; when your brother comes into town, he complains. Your dad shuts him up by telling him to go be a doctor, and then they could talk."

It warms Y/N's heart that her parents are proud of all the accomplishments she has made. It's been a tough road, but nothing stops her until she accomplishes her goals, and starting her residency is the next stop.

"Like dad's office is covered full of his accomplishments since entering that job in San Francisco." She jokes, transitioning the conversation away from herself.

"The oldest child always seems to be the most jealous." Her mother reminds her.

After eating a muffin or two, her mom sends her off on a walk, not wanting her to be cooped up in the house on her first day back. She has always loved walking around. It's something she did when her friends weren't able to offer her a ride. Also, her parents would walk her to the park every weekend growing up to run around in the grass and ruin more clothes with grass stains.

It's no surprise that she arrives at the entrance of the town's park. It looks like there is no one around until she really enters and finds a family seated on a picnic planet as their youngest tries feeding their oldest strawberries. It's a sweet sight.

She keeps going, not at all wanting to disturb; soon enough, she enters the part of the park no one really visits and finds the old park bench with lots of initials carved in the wood, hers included. It creaks as she sits on it; she smiles, knowing that it is something that has not changed.

There aren't many flowers in this corner, just a big willow tree offering her shade that she very much enjoys.

It's nice being home, she's missed it, but she has loved living in new places, making new friends and connections. She spent her first four years in New York, and she loved the environment. It was a university filled with thousands of people never seeing the same face twice in the halls. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere but not here, not at home. Everyone stops her for a conversation. They talk to her as if no time has happened, as if she was still the young girl who helped her mom tend the garden each weekend.

In a way, she always will be.

She wanted this time to explore and travel because she knows this where she'll come back one day to lay her roots. She and her future husband will marry here, maybe at the botanical garden with the beautiful flower arch all year round. It's where she sees her children growing up and running around as she once did. She's got her residency to finish up, but she's looking forward to when she can call Aurora home again.

After sitting for a while, she decides she will come back with a book or two next time. If she's going to be here all summer might as well start by doing some reading on books she has not gotten around to reading. Y/N is thinking about leaving when her eyes spot a couple coming down a hidden path, a small daisy behind the girl's ear, her arm tight around her boyfriend's arm. He's got the biggest smile on his face. They look so lost in each other, one can feel their love.

It reminds her of when she used to do that. When she did that with Harry before they broke up and never spoke again. It breaks her heart, but it also brings back some of the best memories. He'd always bring her here just so they could talk for hours so that she'd tell him more about the flowers and to kiss in private.

One of her favorite memories is when they were in their third year of high school, and he asked to meet for a surprise. She stands up and shakes the memory away, not wanting to get lost in her thoughts. It's harder to do now that she's home and she can see him everywhere she looks.

With that last thought brushed away, she decides to walk back home. She's got a few days to herself before meeting with everyone; there was the big reason she was back in town.

It was time to open a box of memories.

APRIL 1989 - JUNIOR YEAR

Harry is up to something.

She suspects something because he made her walk to the park when he would always be quick to offer her a ride. Sure, it's only a ten-minute walk from her house, but he always says something along the lines that not everyone is as kind as they seem.

It's April, and the flowers are in full bloom. She hears the birds singing, and she swears they sing of the beauty of the flowers. It's also bee season, meaning lots will be around the park, and as much as she loves them, Harry has a big fear of them. Y/N has mentioned various times that they don't mean to harm him; it can just happen. Especially if they get startled.

Y/N takes note of a new flower; it's a small white four-petaled flower that grows in fragrant clusters. They smell divine, but she knows she has never seen them. She really wishes she had her father's polaroid on her to take a photo and show her mother. Any other day she would turn back to do just that, but Harry is waiting on her.

She walks to the back of the park where Harry has claimed their spot, their initials carved in the bench make sure of that. He's standing next to the viola's, and they stand dull next to Harry.

"Hiya, angel." Harry greets hands hiding behind his back.

"Hello." She greets softly; Harry can easily note she's nervous. Any other time she would have given him the biggest hug, but right now is keeping an appropriate distance.

"Are you nervous?" He teases, which honestly calms her down because if he's teasing her, it surely means he doesn't want to break up so she can toss that idea right out.

The last few ideas left are that it's an important anniversary and she's forgotten, or he just wanted to be romantic.

She hopes it's the latter.

"Not so much anymore." She replies truthfully, stepping closer, desperately wanting to give him a hug. He looks warm in his knitted baby blue sweater; she knows it was a Christmas gift from his grandmother, his new favorite.

If he's not wearing his cardigan, he's wearing his varsity jacket, but it's at the dry cleaners because when it's not in his possession, it's in hers. She likes the heaviness of it, how small it makes her look. Harry is the perfect height, standing at what she thinks is 6'0, but she can't be too sure. His broad shoulders only seem to grow stronger each summer after returning from two weeks of football camp. At this point, she wears his varsity jacket more than he does. Sure, she can get an academic one she has more than enough patches to choose from, but it just isn't the same; besides, she rather spend her money on books and records.

Harry tells her his favorite thing about her wearing his jacket is that it has his last name. He knows marriage is long down the line, but he does hope to share the same last name one day.

It's his most prominent dream.

But currently, his big dream at the age of seventeen is asking the prettiest girl to prom.

Harry brings his hands forward to reveal a dozen lavender roses in his hand. Y/N gasps at their beauty, not at all expecting this. They are gorgeous, and she can't wait to show them off to her mom as soon as she gets home.

"My love," Harry starts closing the gap between them and bringing her left hand to his lips to place a soft kiss before setting it back down to rest close to his heart that is beating just for her. "Will you do me the honor of being my date to prom?"

She smiles wide, not at all expecting him to ask, let alone for it to be this romantic and intimate.

"Yes, of course." She wraps her arms around his neck, and Harry spins her around, letting out a small holler of excitement.

"The roses are beautiful; they must have cost you a pretty penny," Y/N tells him as soon as he sets her down so she can admire them again.

"Well, darling. You're worth every one. It also pays that your mom gets on well with the town's florist."

She giggles, nodding.

"Now, how about we walk over to my car and celebrate with a make-out." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her, knowing he needs very little to convince her.

"Harry!" She chastises, looking around to see if anyone heard, but the park is empty, not a soul in sight. "How about we take a stroll around the park, then we'll see afterward."

"You're a little tease, love." She leans in and pecks his lips two times. He tries for a third, but she hurries off.

"Come on, dove. We've got to see the rest of the flowers that are blooming." Y/N's voice is full of excitement at the chance of walking around the park for the next hour, hand in hand with her boyfriend.

Harry grins happily, following after her, he may be young, but he knows he will do whatever is in his power to always see her happy and smiling.

JUNE 1998 - HOME

"Dad!" She yells as soon as she walks in the door; she sees him stand quickly from his seat on the couch and embraces her in a big hug.

"My baby is home." He whispers.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

"How was work?"

"Awful, when I knew I had my two favorite girls at home waiting for me."

Y/N laughs. "Always a sap, dad."

Her mother makes her presence known. "This is a lovely sight. I've missed it."

"Yes, as have I." Her father gives her one last kiss to her head and lets her go.

"Any plans?" Her mother questions walking back from the kitchen, placing a cup of tea for Y/N on an old family coaster.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, as do both her parents wanting to carry on the conversation.

"I'm meeting Sarah and Sydney for breakfast one of these days, most likely going to spend the entire day together. Then, everyone else won't be coming around until the week after. Think it will be on Friday, seeing as that is what worked for everyone's schedule.

"Happy to see your friends." Her mom states, the wide smile on Y/N’s face confirming her statement.

"Yes, chatting isn't as easy as when we were in high school seeing each other that day. There are lots of emails sent back and forth between us."

"Glad you girls stayed closed. Was worried you would all drift away." She reaches forward to squeeze Y/N's knee.

Y/N knew she meant it about Harry. How no one thought anything would come between them that they would make it through university and settle down soon after. Oh, how wrong they all were. As much as they hoped for the best, they were each other's downfall.

"It's a bit late; I'm going to shower and head to bed instead."

"Before you go, can I say something?"

Y/N recognizes the gleam in her mother's eye and nods, knowing she has to get this off her chest.

"It's sadly a man's world out there, but you have managed to make it your own." She reaches forward and takes Y/N's hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss before settling it in her lap. Y/N smiles. "I know you long to love and share it with someone, and I want you to remember that the person for you is out there. As a mother, I know these things, and I wish you nothing but the greatest things in life, but they all come when we are ready for it."

Tears well up in Y/N's eyes, she nods. Not replying to her mother's words because she knows if she speaks, she will cry.

"Lorelai, you made her cry." He whispers, pulling both women into a squished hug.

"I've always had your father, and I hope you find that someone for yourself."

She pulls back and wipes her tears away. "Thank you." Y/N leaves her parents with a final hug.

She heads up the stairs to the room that holds all the memories she has kept locked away. In her home, there are no longer any photos of her friends or of him. Not like before, where they were spotted on every wall displayed for all to see. Her mother took them off after she left for university. It broke her mother's heart to see her suffer such a big heartbreak. Harry had become like another son to her parents, so they were all sharing the heartbreak. She missed everything about him, but it has been years since they last spoke.

It's been eight years since they last talked, last kissed but not the last she's thought of him. He's coming for the time capsule opening, and as much as she tries to convince herself she's going to be alright, she knows she's not. Yes, she's moved on. She has built a life without him in it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

All she can do is count the days until she leaves Aurora and goes back to the comfort of her apartment in Massachusetts.

____

It's been a week since she's been home, and she knows everyone will show up in two days. The friends she was sure she'd never lose touch with but slowly did with time no matter how each tried, but life moves on.

Y/N is nervous to see everyone. She's changed in the last eight years, but so has everyone else. She misses what they used to have in high school but honestly, getting to hear what everyone has been up to will be fun. Who knows, it might feel as if not time has passed at all?

She met up with Sarah and Sydney earlier for breakfast at the old dinner. The girls spent a good five minutes embraced in a hug before they took their seats. They ordered too much to eat but, to no surprise, finished it all by the end of their conversation.

The time together was spent mostly catching up and jumping from topic to topic. She did feel she was asked one too many questions about starting her residency and how they will be addressing her as a "doctor."

Y/N brought up Sarah's love life wanting to hear how they were doing. Sarah and Mitch did not start dating until after graduating high school, finding out they were going to the same university just an hour away from their hometown. Everyone was aware of Mitch's heart eyes for Sarah, but she was too focused on her internship, always wanting to do good. One can imagine how happy everyone was when news spread that Sarah asked Mitch out and was quick to say yes. Now eight years later, were happily moved in together. Sarah is a music engineer, and Mitch a music teacher at the local high school; as mellow as Mitch is, he gets on well with the teens.

Having focused on love and Sydney quickly saying nothing new was going on with her, just that she was more in love than she could have ever imagined, it was time to hound Y/N, it seems. They asked about her love life and how good-looking the boys in Massachusetts are.

Y/N told them how nonexistent her love life has been since she graduated high school. It's not something she ever made time for, and her friends understand as much as they hate that for her. Sydney did not stop herself from making a joke on what seems to be Y/N's long dry spell. She shrugged it off, not at all bothered. Y/N assured them she knows how to take care of her own needs until the right person comes along. They all knew who she hoped would be the right person, but they knew better than to bring him up.

Once again, there was a change of pace. Sarah surprised them with tickets to Spice Girls at a sold-out Madison Square Garden concert on July first. Six tickets, a perfect number for their friend group. It was perfect, honestly. Sarah figured they'd road trip up the last week of June and could stay in Y/N's shared apartment with her roommate, who would not be home yet. Then take a train up to New York for the show. Also, told them they'd have hotel rooms for the night already, having an idea there would be an after-party. Y/N was all for it as was Sydney.

Y/N has always loved concerts; it's something she saves for not bothered to spend some money to enjoy a great show for one of her favorite artists, especially in good company. The long queues were a downfall, but not everything is perfect. She has gone to concerts and knows that one can make the best experience out of floor seats and nosebleeds. Artists never fail to amaze.

It reminds her of the first concert she ever went to that Harry took her to their senior year. The ticket stub she has pinned next to a polaroid that a stranger offered to take for them. It was before the show, and they had matching grins. It's still one of her favorites, and the reason she doesn't take it down is too good of a memory to keep hidden away.

While seeing Sarah and Sydney was good and everything she hoped it would be, it did not prepare her to see the others. She had not talked to Zac in a long while, having no idea what he was up to. Mitch is quiet and only says hello when she has called with Sarah and Harry; well, it's like she doesn't exist to him. Not since their last day together.

Y/N has two days to prepare.

Two days to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to see Harry.

AUGUST 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

Many people told her to enjoy her high school years because they would fly by, and she accepted the advice and made memories to last a lifetime in the three years leading up to her senior year. Her friends and family have made each year memorial. Still, there is something about senior year, and knowing that it is their last year before university has her excited and anxious.

Harry repeatedly told her how he wanted it to be their best year yet and promised to do just that. She has no doubt in her mind he will accomplish that in whatever way. He's managed to do so year after year.

Harry made sure to pick her up each morning, never wanting her to worry about walking alone to school or arriving late. He made sure he knocked on her door every morning.

Depending on the time he showed up, he was ushered in for a homemade breakfast, or sometimes he said a quick hello before grabbing her hand and rushing out the door because they were running behind schedule, and Harry knew he could not make her arrive late.

One thing that was always constant was how he carried her bag to his car and opened her door. He made sure she was settled before reaching down for his morning kiss. Sometimes, he went as far as putting on her seatbelt, just wanting to be close to her.

Today was Monday, and he usually comes in, but today he selfishly told her to grab him a slice of toast because he was in a hurry. She didn't question him and sent her apologies. Her mom kissed her cheek and told her not to worry about it. A true angel, her mother was.

Harry slipped her bag over his shoulder before ushering her in. She felt a little flustered with his urgency but let him be. He stole a quick kiss before going to the driver's seat.

"What's got you in a rush today?" She asks, genuinely worried.

He smirks, looking over at her. He seems calm, not that they've driven away from her house. "Thought we could use the extra time for some kisses. You deprived me this Sunday." He pouts at her, waiting for the light to turn green.

"H, you know I have dinner with my grandparents one Sunday a month." She chastises him.

"I know, darling, doesn't mean I like it." He tells her. "Had to suffer a Sunday alone."

"Well, at least I know how I can make it up to you." She teases.

Arriving at school, Harry parks toward the back under a shady tree, one far away from everyone.

"Want to sit on my lap, baby?" He asks, spreading his thighs, and as much as she wants to, she shouldn't knowing very well what he can convince her to do when in his lap.

"Later, H." She promises.

"I'm holding you to that, angel." He unclips her seatbelt, quickly placing his lips on hers.

She feels how smooth his lips are and knows he stole her cherry lip balm again. "Harry, that's the third lip balm you've taken in two weeks." She pulls away, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip that he juts out. He gives her thumb a soft kiss.

"Swear I was going to put it back this time." He moves closer, placing a kiss on her neck, slowly trailing down, pushing his varsity jacket down her shoulder, exposing more of her neck. Her black corduroy pants and white acrylic sweater, and her favorite worn-out Mary Jane's mother have been begging her to change out. She likes to think it adds an extra flair to her outfit. "You drive me crazy when you wear my jacket," He whispers in her ear.

"Does that mean you're always going crazy?" She whispers back, knowing he mostly wears the jacket during game days.

"Always make me lose my mind."

After a fun half-hour of making out, Y/N pushes him back, knowing she has matching bruised lips. She loves that everyone can see what she did to him. She also may have sucked a little too hard on the skin right below his collar, the love bite just barely visible. She pulls down the sun visor, looking in the mirror to straighten out her hair, that Harry just loves digging his fingers into.

"Baby, what did you do?" Harry says, looking at the fresh mark just by his collar bone.

She smirks, knowing very well that Harry loves when she marks him. Not doing it very often in fear of getting caught by their parents.

"Got to remind those girls that stare at you who you belong to." She reapplies her lip balm before layering the new lip gloss her mom got for her the other day.

"You know I've only got eyes for you, love." He says, caressing her cheek softly.

His gentle tone of voice always makes her soft, but it also might be that his accent seems to stand out even more.

"I know, H." She leans in to give him one more kiss but pulls back quick enough to not let him deepen it.

"Sneaky, baby." He clicks his tongue at her, rushing out and rounding the car to open her door, offering her his hand.

She gladly accepts it, placing a kiss on both cheeks before landing on his lips.

"I love you, Styles." She whispers against his lips, eyes closed as she tries to catch her breath.

"And I love you, my darling angel." He softly nuzzles her nose, causing her to let out a small giggle.

"Let's get you to class." He says, throwing his arm over her shoulder pulling her in close.

Harry is smiling wide; she takes notice as she looks up. He looks extra giddy.

Too giddy, and it has nothing to do with their steamy make-out.

She narrows her eyes at him, "what's got you extra smiley?"

"Nothing, happy all the time."

"Nuh, uh. Styles. I know you. Fess up!" She stops walking, wanting him to answer her.

"It's because my girl marked me up today for all to see. Makes me feel special." He answers smoothly.

Y/N looks at him in suspicion, not buying a single word he's saying, "I'm onto you, Styles."

Harry lets out a deep breath before stepping close to her. "Let me surprise you, darling."

She instantly relaxes. "Okay, only because you know I like surprises."

"Thank you." He rests his forehead against her, happy to be in her space, forgetting all around him until he hears a shout of his name.

Moment over, it seems.

"Let's get you to English Literature," Harry murmurs, intertwining his hand with hers making sure she's close by as Sarah greets her.

_____

It's lunchtime when they walk hand in hand to the lunch tables where Mitch and Sarah sit, stalling their conversion to greet them. Before she can take a seat next to Sarah, Harry pulls her in his lap. He leans in close to her ear and whispers that he'll give her his chocolate chip cookies Anne had baked. She silently agrees, grabbing the bag Harry was offering her. What he didn't disclose is that his mum had sent them specifically for her. They have three empty seats, but she can see Zac and Sydney approaching, carrying food trays. Meaning, neither had lunch prepared for the day.

Y/N leans back against Harry getting comfortable, knowing that he wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. The chatter begins with how their weekend went and what this week's activities are. She knows she doesn't have much to do this week; her club meetings don't meet until next week. Harry has football practice all week, meaning she either visits the library or finds a ride home. She doesn't mind staying and watching his training, but Harry hates knowing she sits there alone for so long. He rather have her be home warm and cozy than on the cold bleachers.

Harry asks for her attention by placing a kiss on her neck, his tell sign that he's feeling left out.

"Yes, H," She whispers for only him to hear.

"Need your attention. Don't like sharing."

"You're extra needy this Monday, dove." Y/N has his hands in her lap as she begins to trace circles on his palm; it's something that soothes him instantly.

"I just want to know our plans this weekend." He kisses her cheek, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Rather you get parent permission early on than last-minute giving them a chance to say no."

Harry's right; there are occasions where her parents have said no, and Y/N finds herself sneaking out from her window that conveniently has an old tree that makes it all the easier.

Her parents trust them together, but if they really knew what happened behind locked doors, they would think otherwise.

"Do you want to go kiss a little?" He wants her to say yes.

"At your car or in the abandoned hallway?"

"What's quieter?"

"The hallway, and it's closer."

Harry nods, gently grabbing her waist and helping her stand. "We'll see you later," Harry says, interrupting their conversations.

"Oh, Styles, you've corrupted her." Zac teases very well, grasping what they were about to go do.

"Think she's corrupted me. Who knew angels could be so dangerous?" Harry teases in front of their friends.

Y/N feels her face warm, bidding them all a quiet goodbye. Harry, having rendered her a bit speechless. She swears she never knows what is going to come out of his mouth.

Harry all but drags her to the hallway. He gently pushes her back against the wall next to an older poster for the school play. Y/n glances down at his lips before looking into his eyes.

"Did you really bring me here to kiss, or are you spilling the surprise?" Her eyes are big and filled with hope.

"Sorry, baby. Really did want some kisses from you." He pulls her closer wanting no space in between them. "Really missed you. Can't believe we only have one class together."

"It's like they know you wouldn't pay attention to me in a class with you." She teases.

"Kissy." He pouts his lips, feeling like they've talked enough.

Who is she to deny him when he asks so sweetly.

Y/N always felt like time stopped when she kissed Harry. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her knees grew weak, and as if Harry knew, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her up. Harry pulls away slowly, a smile growing on his face. He would never tire of kissing her.

Harry leans in and nuzzles his head in the crook of her necks, slowly beginning to place kiss after kiss before he finds his favorite spot and begins to suck lightly, pulling a surprised moan from her.

She pushes him back. "No love bites that high. It will keep us locked up in the house all weekend supervised.

Harry tenses at the thought, knowing fully well her parents would do that, having done it before when they first started dating, and he thought more with the thing in his pants than his brain. "I guess I'll just have to bruise these pretty lips."

Never one to tell him no, a small nod is enough to make Harry lean in and take her breath away. He'd kiss her forever if he could, but the last fifteen minutes of lunch break would have to do for now.

_____

Monday's always drag on; she goes home, does homework, reads a book, and waits for dinner to be ready. Most days, she joins her mother in cooking; both like conversing about their days. More than ever, they have lots to talk about, from holiday plans to the universities she is applying for. She has saved up allowance allowing her to use it for more universities than the average three. If it was up to her, she'd send one to all the universities because that is how confident she is not only about her grades but how she comes off as a student on paper.

Dumping most of her books in her locker, she keeps Calculus in her bag, knowing the sooner that homework gets done, the less stress she'll have. Just as she shuts her locker, she hears footsteps approaching her.

"Is my girl ready to go?"

"She is."

Harry swings his arm over her shoulder, and they begin to walk out the school doors that are kept wide open. There are groups of students lingering talking to another, and in the distance can hear cars driving away eager to get away.

Y/N smiles at a girl who sends her a wave, recognizing her from her English course. Harry walks them under a tree, a reasonable distance away from everyone because, as she has come to know, he likes kissing her in private.

"Our first game is in two weeks." Harry reminds her.

"Yes, exciting."

"Will you be there, or is there a test to study for?" He teases.

She frowns and takes him by the lapels of his varsity jacket that she gave back to him at the end of lunch because she claimed it was losing his smell.

"Don't start, Harry. You know I've never missed a game, and I won't start now."

"Was only teasing, love."

"Didn't like it."

"Sorry, love. Forgive me? He pouts, wanting her to smile at him instead of frown.

"You know my price." Y/N shrugs.

He sighs, nodding his head three times before moving to get on his knees, toying with unbuttoning her pants.

She gasps and jumps away. "Harry!"

Harry can't help but smirk, "Isn't that always the price."

"I just wanted a kiss; no need to make a scene." He shrugs. "Now, don't you have a practice to get to?"

"Ugh, I do." Harry groans, dreading practice knowing the coach likes to run them twice as much for not working out on the weekends.

"Give me a kiss, please. Then you'll come by later, right?"

"That is correct." He leans in, giving her three consecutive pecks on her lips.

"Who's taking you home again?" He asks, wanting to make sure she's safe.

"Sarah and Mitch."

"Right, good. Well, off I go, poppet."

"Bye."

Harry turns and heads toward the field, where he can see the freshman already setting up drills and getting the water jug out to the bench. He's only taken a few steps when his angel's voice stops him.

"Dove,"

Harry can feel his cheeks turn bright red at the term of endearment. He turns and takes two steps back to her. "Yes, lovie."

"Will you give me one more kiss?" Her voice soft and innocent but the gleam in her eye is anything but that.

Harry takes the last step towards her and holds her face with both hands reaching down and kissing her passionately. He pulls away after what feels like a lifetime, slowly as he tries to steady his breathing.

"I love you," she whispers.

He presses a final kiss to her forehead. "And I love you." Harry turns and begins to jog away, recognizing he's got a limited time to get dressed and out on the field to warm up. He's a few feet away but turns his head to see her watching him still. "Tell your mom I'll be joining you for dinner."

She nods, letting him know she heard him before he turns a corner and out of her eyesight. Only then does she go in search of her waiting friends who will bring her home.

______

After Y/N informed her mother that Harry was going to join them for dinner, she got up to cook, wanting everything to be ready for when her father and Harry arrived, seeing it would be around the same time.

Y/N made herself scarce as her mother was in no mood to converse. Instead, she wanted to cook, and maybe if she planned her time accordingly, she would do dessert.

Dinner time came around quickly, meaning she was lost in homework for a good few hours. She walked downstairs wanting to help her mom set the table when the front door swung open.

"Hello, father!" Y/N bounced over to him, giving him a big hug and a peck on his cheek, one that he happily returned.

"Hi, my sweet girl."

"Mom cooked a delicious dinner. We're just waiting on Harry." Y/N told him, knowing he's hungry from a long day at work.

"Won't have to wait long; Harry was just parking when I was on the steps."

Y/N's eyes lit up at hearing that he arrived. Her father chuckled, "I'll go say hello to my wife, dinner in ten, okay."

Y/N walks out to see Harry coming up the stairs in a cozy blue emblem sweater with denim Levi jeans and paired with his old white Chuck All-Stars. She smiled because he went home to shower, not wanting to wear his clothes from earlier or come over smelling like sweat, not that she minded.

"You know we don't mind the sweat, H," She tells him as he's climbing up the last few steps.

He shrugs. "I know, but I am a guest in your home and would never dare disrespect your parents and you, of course."

Y/N grins. "Four years dating, and you continue to prove to be the most perfect boyfriend."

Harry looks away, feeling bashful. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I would, dove." Y/N closes the gap between them. "Now, I say you kiss me before mom calls us in for dinner."

"It would be my greatest pleasure."

____

Dinner was a success, conversation always flowing well. Y/N likes to sit back and listen to her parents talk with Harry as if they hadn't seen him in forever when he is more than likely to be here every other day. Her father is a big fan of football; he too was once a player. No, he wasn't quarterback; he was right-wing and helped his team make it to state championships.

The high school team has won three state championships since Harry's first year as a freshman. They counted on making it the fourth year; no doubt in anybody's mind it would happen. Y/N picked up on her father's excitement going on and on about the first game and how it was the most important one now that scouts would be coming out more and more. Without a second thought, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing, reassuring Harry she was there for him. He slowly turned the hand on his thigh palm up and intertwined them together.

"Thank you so much for dinner, Lorelai. Luke, thank you for the great conversation. I can't wait to see you both at the game."

"We wouldn't dare miss it, Harry," Lorelai tells him, a wide grin on her face as she picks up the dishes.

"Now go on; I'll help your mother with the dishes tonight." Luke gestures to them to get up and get their privacy. Y/N thanks him and takes Harry's hand, leading the way up the stairs.

Now they are lying on her bed, it's got enough space for them to be spread out, but she prefers to lay across Harry, her head on his chest as he rests his head on her pillows.

Harry had his hand in her hair, always calming for her and for him. Allows them to sit in comfortable silence, basking in the joy of being together.

Many people ask them if they ever get sick of seeing each other every day and never giving each other space after dating for so long. That isn't entirely true because when they aren't at their respective extracurricular activities, they are found together. Harry's response is always, "she's my favorite person." Y/N just shrugs and smiles, "he's my best friend."

Believe it or not, they spent around in her room listening to music or in his house watching movies from their grand VHS collection. Most thought they spent it making it out, not that they don't do that because they are just as in love as when they got together four years ago. When they walked into any room, her parents were sure they would be kissing, which is why the open door policy exists. Well, half-open is the agreement now.

Harry looks around her room, his eyes settling on the polaroid photo on her bedside table, one of them smiling at each other, lost in their own worlds. It's dated 06-18-1989<i<, it was from one of their many summer days spent together. He decided now was as good as time to bring up what he had been hiding.

"You know how we were making plans for the weekend, sweetheart."

"Yes, you didn't let us decide on anything."

"Well, what if I did?"

She sits up and moves to sit in front of him. "Okay, I'm all ears.

"You up for a drive?"

"Always, so drive me to the moon, please."

Harry laughs. "Serious for a sec, baby."

"Sorry, yes, go on then." She interrupts him once more. "How far is the drive? You're not always the best driver."

"Ouch" Harry has his hand over his heart, feigning as if her words had pierced him. "Guess I won't tell you."

"That's fine."

"Yeah. Is it?"

"Yup."

"Why's that?" He's confused; she's usually begging to know by now.

"Simple, because I just won't give you any kisses."

"That's cruel."

"Oh well. I don't play fair."

"Think you can resist me, sweetheart?"

"Oh, I know I can."

Harry shakes his head, response ready, but she stops him. "Remember who asked who out five different times."

"That's because you were playing hard to get. Claiming you just wanted to be friends for a little longer."

"That was tru-" It's his turn to stop her.

"Ah, yes, I know. I was getting impatient. Don't know if you know this or not, darling, but I had to scare off a lot of boys.

"Trust me, H. I knew"

"You did?"

"Yes, I think it was because everyone knew sooner or later I was going to put you out of your misery."

"Yeah, by saying yes."

"Oh no, I was going to say no."

"What changed?" Clearly, something had, and he just had to know.

"You decided to show up at school wearing your Sunday best and brought me sunflowers. Told me they reminded you how much light I brought into your life. There I decided yes, he'll make a fine boyfriend."

Harry's smile is big, dimples on display just for her. Always for her. "You tease too much."

"But you love it."

"I do." He leans in and smiles as she lets him lead the kiss. It's slow and full of love. A love that only continues to grow each moment they are together. "I really do."

Y/N leans in, wanting to give him more kisses, wanting to be connected to him, wanting him to always feel her love. She's not sure how much time has passed when Harry pulls away.

"You do realize we got sidetracked."

"Yes, worth it if you ask me." She looks pleased. "Now you have to tell me, I gave you kisses."

Harry runs his thumb over her bottom lip, asking for another. She puckers her lips leaning forward, and connects their lips in a short soft kiss.

"Friday night, the Forum."

Y/N's eyes go wide; she was not expecting to hear that.

"No."

"Yes."

She sits there taking it in.

"Say it, baby." Harry likes that he managed to surprise her.

"You got us tickets for Elton John." She whispers out, her eyes now locked with his needing him to confirm it.

"Yes, I did."

"A sold-out show."

"Think it's going to be a fun night."

"How?" Although Y/N has an idea.

"Well, I called in on a favor with our dear friend Sarah and the radio station she's interning at."

"I love her." She breathes out.

"Hey," Harry knocks her out of her gaze. "And me."

"Of course, I love you." She moves forward, seating herself in his lap. "I love you. I can't believe you did this for me."

"Yes, can't let you go off to uni without experiencing a concert."

"You are perfect, Styles."

"Perfect for you."

There's so much love in between them; if anyone walked into the room, they'd be able to feel it.

"Wait." Her hands now resting on his chest, a frown taking over her face. "How are we going to convince my parents."

"Already done. Told them the plan and the itinerary, and your parents have agreed."

"Perfect, I'm telling."

"Is this why we're walking to school tomorrow?" She remembers him telling her he won't have his car.

"Yes, taking it to the mechanic. I just want to make sure all is okay."

"Marry me?"

Harry can feel his cheeks warming up; she always makes him blush. He takes hold of her left hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her ring finger.

"All in good time, my love."

_____

The week had dragged on, but it was finally Friday. She had been excited all week, and everyone could tell. Told her how she was jumpier, a lot more smiley, and twice as affectionate with Harry. She was happy.

She's at home getting ready; they would be leaving soon. Seeing as it was still a bit of a drive and no doubt would get stuck in traffic, seeing as they aren't the only ones attending the show.

Y/N had gone over outfit after outfit until she finally decided on what she is wearing now. She's wearing a deep red power shoulder tucked into her favorite high-waist denim that makes her waist and butt look extra good.

As she walks down the stairs, she hears the door and knows Harry is here to take her away. No matter what, he always stepped up to the door to pick her up; it still made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy.

Her father is at the door speaking with Harry going over her extended rules and what numbers to call for an emergency.

"Well, aren't you a dream," Harry looks her up and down; she does a slow spin for him on the heel of her black boots to give him the full look. "I'm a lucky man."

"Glad you know it, H."

She grabs hold of his brown leather jacket and runs her finger down it, it's an old one, but he takes such good care of it; one would think he just got it today.

"Think you just took my breath away, H." She swears there are hearts in her eyes as she takes him in.

"That's exactly what I was going for."

Harry and Y/N bid her parents goodbye; they wish them a safe journey. Her mother was excited to send her off; her father was a bit more worried but trusted Harry to keep her safe.

The drive to the arena is filled with conversation over the upcoming year, Harry's final football season, and her volunteering hours how she was hoping to be accepted into the NICU's internship at their hospital. Also, lots of singing on the radio as well as Harry's CDs. From ABBA to Shania Twain, he had, but they settled on Elton John for the ride.

In what feels like no time, they had arrived. Y/N is amazed at how big it is; she doesn't know much about the place just from what Sarah told her that it was large and no matter where she sat, she was going to have the best time of her life. Already having Harry at her side, she had no doubt about it. She can't stop smiling, and neither can Harry.

Harry grabs her hand as they both stare at the arena, where hundreds of people are lining up to enter.

"Ready, love."

"Yes, gosh. I might throw up from the excitement."

"Oh no, let's get you a pop. It'll help."

"That sounds nice." Y/N leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "Thank you, H."

"Angel, I am more than happy to do this for you."

Hand in hand, they walked into the arena, ready to sing their hearts out together.

_____

Two hours of singing and dancing her heart off, and yet it still wasn't enough to tire Y/N out. Harry was sure she'd be clinging to his arm as he pulled her out of the arena, but she had asked him to wait out the crowd, and they stood in the emptying arena, arms around each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and it was still pumping hard. He kissed her lips one final time before swinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding them out to the chilly Los Angeles air.

Y/N was all smiles, and she thinks it has to do with the man whose curls have fallen flat from all the sweating they did inside the arena. Being in a room packed around thousands of people will do that. She has never been in such a happy and united environment.

It's a memory she's going to cherish forever.

The drive home is full of retelling of their favorite parts of the night. Harry decided his was when Y/N turned to kiss him during "Your Song." He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It's a feeling he never wants to end.

Y/N's had to have been each outfit change. There were so many that she lost track, but she loved how unique each outfit was. It's something she knew she could never pull off, but she admired the beauty of each one. It was over the top and full of colors; it kept her mesmerized. It reminded her of life and how filled with color it really is. Also, when Harry sang his heart out during "Tiny Dancer." How he knew every lyric and didn't miss a beat, if she's honest, she didn't bother looking at the stage for the entire song too entranced in Harry.

The smile does not leave their face, not during the traffic of getting on the freeway, not when they stopped by McDonald's and got burgers and decided to share a coke, and not even when they saw the sign welcoming back into Aurora.

Y/N's smile didn't drop until Harry parked his car right in front of her house. She sits back against the seat and turns her head to already find a bashful Harry smiling at her.

"Come here." He whispers.

She unbuckles and sits in his lap, it may have been a few hours, but she missed being this close to him.

Y/N didn't wait for Harry to ask; she simply leaned in and connected his strawberry lips with hers. She loved how soft they always were, and she knew she'd keep letting him steal her lip balms if they did such an excellent job keeping them soft and tasting sweet; then again, that could be all Harry. She lets out a small moan when Harry swipes his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she happily grants it.

She wishes she can stay here forever, in his arms, kissing his lips, never having to stop.

"Baby," Harry breathes against her lips.

Y/N knows what he's going to say; she's not ready to say goodnight. Instead, she keeps kissing him. "Just a little longer." She mutters against his lips.

Harry can't bring himself to pull away again and nods, allowing her to take control. He has a tight grip on her thigh, he wishes to move it higher, but he knows if he does, she won't be going inside tonight. She moves her lips down his jaw pressing gentle kisses.

"You drive me crazy."

"Feelings mutual, darling."

Harry pulls her back up and kisses her plush mouth. She tastes sweet, something he never pinpoints; all he knows is that it's intoxicating. He presses one final kiss on her lips and pulls back. She's breathing heavy, a large grin on her face. He knows he looks just as dazed.

"Think you got to get inside now."

"Don't want to leave you." She grabs a fist of his jacket, pulling herself closer.

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

She pouts. "Why so late?"

"Because you're going to want to sleep in." He brushes a bit of her hair away, she leans into his touch; she loves how delicate each touch is.

"What if you come early and then cuddle me? Mom won't turn you away."

"She might."

"Not after I walk in and tell her how amazing the night was." She cups his cheeks, rubbing her thumb affectionately on his smooth skin. "She's got a sweet spot for you."

"And you." He reminds her.

"Well, of course. I'm her daughter." She laughs but knows she hasn't convinced him. "Please," she whispers. She flashes him her best puppy dog look, knowing he won't be able to resist.

"Fine. I'll be here at eight, darling."

"Perfect." She gloats.

"Let me walk you up."

Harry helps her back into the passenger seat so they can both head out. He grabs her hand, pulling her in close, not wanting her far for the last moments he has her.

"You want to know something, H." She whispers, keys in her hand.

"What is it, angel?"

"I want to travel the world with you."

"The world." He gasps. "It's a big place, baby. Where would we start?"

"London got to see the place you grew up before moving here. Of, course we'll save up and just spend the year traveling wherever life takes us."

"That sounds perfect."

She hums, deep in thought, picturing visiting all these places she's only dreamed of with him by her side. To see the Eiffel tower, walk the streets of Scotland, and swim in the Amalfi Coast waters.

"Dove," He hums, playing with a loose string of her jeans. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere you want. I'll make sure to take you wherever you want to go."

"Take me to the stars, dovie."

"As you wish, my sweet angel."

Harry brings his right hand up to her face and gently cups her cheek; she sighs, knowing precisely what he's going to do. She tilts her head up and feels his lips against her. It's the softest kiss of the night; it's gentle. It's her favorite kiss, the goodnight kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow.

She breaks away the first time tonight, knowing if he kept going a moment longer, she wouldn't let him go. "Goodnight, H," She whispers as she begins to open the door.

"Goodnight, love."

Harry turns and walks to his car as he hears the door shut and hears her turn the lock. Once in his car, he takes a look up at her window, sends a final smile as he sees her waving him off.

He feels so much joy always being around her, but tonight it seems to have multiplied by a hundred. He knew tonight was perfect, but his favorite part wasn't even at the concert; it was standing outside her door as they spoke of their future together.

Happiness isn't always about the big moments but also about these small moments that make them feel invincible.

JUNE 1998

Y/N grabs a book from her bookshelf, not bother glancing at which one knowing if she stopped to read each title, she would be there all day. She heads to the yard, a picnic blanket tucked under her arm, so she can lay on it and soak in a bit of the sun.

Her mother is trimming the leaves of the roses, wanting the flower to pop out more. Her father usually helps her, but he's finishing up last-minute work before coming out to join them. He has a good view of them from his office window. When she was young, he told her he chose this room because it's where her mom spends all her time, and he likes having his eye on her as she joins the beauty of her flowers. Y/N's known love all her life, and she's happy her parents have each other, but she can't help but feel like she let that one-of-a-kind love go years ago and fears she'll never find it again.

As she settles down on her blanket, she decides to rid herself of all thoughts and instead get lost in the words of Stephen King. She picked up a psychological horror. She remembers her father mentioning it was a good read and that she'd enjoyed it. Two pages in, and she knows she's hooked; it looks like she will be laying out here all day.

At least that's what she thought when her mother interrupted her.

"When are you meeting everyone?"

Y/N puts the book down on her chest and looks over at her mom, who's still got her eyes on her roses. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"When are you meeting everyone?" Her mother repeats herself.

"Tomorrow."

"Time, darling?"

"At one."

She hums in response. "I leave you in charge, and please be watchful over my roses."

"Of course, I would never think of damaging your roses. Well, my roses, really." Y/N corrects.

"Just because they were planted in your honor does not mean they are yours. You've cared for them for such little time."

"Excuse me, mother. I went off to university, but once I'm done and ready to settle down, I will be doing all the caring."

"Yes, because you will have time as a doctor." Her mother responds sarcastically.

"I will be able to."

Her mother decided to move on, knowing how stubborn Y/N can be. "Your father and I have lunch and dinner plans out of town, so you'll have the house to yourself for most of the day and night."

"You're treating me like I'm sixteen again, and it's my first time having friends over."

Her mom laughs, and Y/N can't help but join. "You're forever, my little girl."

"Cheesy." Y/N teases.

Y/N leans back and gets comfortable, all thoughts of tomorrow pushed away and instead gets lost in the town of Bridgton, Maine.

_____

It's time; everyone is making their way over. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, thankful there's a nice breeze outside to keep her cool. Y/N and her mom cooked pasta with grilled chicken and strawberry lemonade wanting to be ready for after the digging. Y/N would feel bad making them dig a hole, open a box, then head on out. These people are her friends, and she wishes to spend time with them, and what better than with food.

She's got ten minutes before everyone is due to arrive when she hears a car pull up and turn off right in front of her house. Y/N knows of only one person who shows up early.

Harry.

Y/N thought he would be the last to arrive, but she's guessing old habits die hard. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door and walking out.

Harry would be lying if he wasn't nervous. He's about to see Y/N for the first time after years. He's seen her in photos; he knows she only continued to become more beautiful as the years passed. It's not the same as, no, because he knows what's separating them is a walk up to the door.

He feels precisely as he did the moment he asked her out and, if he's truthful, how she made him feel their entire relationship. Harry's 26, but his heart feels 18, and at that age, he was deeply in love with the woman inside that house. He loves her just the same.

Harry takes a long deep breath before slowly letting it out. He could do this; he got out of his car and made his way up the path, where she was already standing waiting for him. It felt like no time had passed as if he was coming over to take her on a date--except they weren't even close enough to say they were friends.

"Harry," She breathes out as he reaches the first step.

"Hi" He sends her a small smile. "You look great."

Y/N feels her cheek flush, and knows he can notice now that he's right in front of her. She takes in her outfit; it's simple, just a cropped red long-sleeved tee and black pants, with an old pair of black sneakers.

"Thank you, Harry. As do you." And he really does. He's wearing loose green denim joggers with a matching jacket. He has left it open, showing a brown button-up, a silver cross necklace peeking out from the space he left unbuttoned. "Always on time still."

"Better early than late."

She nods, not sure if she should continue the conversation or not. Are they going to stand out here in silence? It was never this hard; she hates this. Y/N rather keep talking than let themselves stand there in silence for another eight minutes.

She clears her throat. "How'd med school go? Have you decided on a residency yet? Anne told me you were weighing your options."

Harry doesn't try to hide his shock. "You spoke to my mum?" He asks in disbelief.

Y/N grins as much as his English accent is fading; it always comes back when saying 'mum,' or well, when he's nervous.

She nods. "I visit her when I visit my family. Recently passed when I came to see my mother who was feeling down and lonely as she put it even though she has dad to keep her company."

Harry smiles, knowing what weekend she was talking about because he had come the week after, and Lorelai had told him she was no longer as lonely. He thought it might have been because of his company, but it was because her daughter was home for a weekend.

When he's about to tell her where he decided, she waits patiently, staring up at him, a shy smile on her face but stops when Sydney comes and tackles Y/N in a hug.

"Of course, Styles got first dibs on you." Sydney fakes her exasperation.

"He knows how to be punctual." Y/N teases. "Looks like you bring the others as always." She signals seeing two more cars park; they park in the empty driveway.

"Just like old times," Zac screams out two bottles of wines in his hands. Mitch and Sarah walk up behind him, agreeing.

Y/N looks around, and it's almost like old times. Just one small difference that makes her heartache.

Everyone greets each other, sharing long hugs, and it's not long after that she invites everyone in and into the backyard.

"Mom says if we mess up her roses, we are dead meat," Y/N informs them all as they all stand in a semi-circle under the spot they buried their time capsule.

Mitch steps and pats Harry on the back. "If anything does happen, just say it was Harold. Lorelai has a soft spot for him."

Sarah approaches water in her hand. "Y/N is her golden child who does no wrong, easy to forgive."

Y/N laughs. "Enough. No roses will be damaged. Are we clear?"

She gets a chorus of "yes."

"Great, there are clear instructions that only Zac and Harry are allowed to shovel. Sorry, Mitch, mom said we've got to take care of your musical hands."

Mitch nods in appreciation.

"What about the doctor? No care for him." Harry mutters a small smile on his face.

"Quiet Styles, you're a favorite still," Zac tells him, pushing a shovel into his chest.

Y/N's happy watching the banter; it's like she's sixteen again, and they are trying to see who could dig their side of the hole faster.

SEPTEMBER 1988 - TIME CAPSULE

"High school friendships aren't known to last," Zac speaks out randomly, breaking everyone out of their conversations.

Harry sighs, "You're a downer."

"I'm a realist."

Y/N takes this in; she hasn't thought years down the line. She just assumed they would always be in her life. She can't see herself without them.

"What if we aren't friends ten years down the road?" Y/N voices.

Harry instantly picks up the concern in her voice. "I promise I won't let that happen, lovie." He assures her.

"H, I know."

"It's not uncommon for others to drift, especially when everyone has a different path after high school." Sydney comments. "My sister went through it."

"Let's write a letter, and we can bury it, open it ten years, but we have to do it together," Sarah suggests.

"Not a bad idea." Everyone nods in agreement.

"Let's do a letter and something important to us." Y/N proposes already having an idea of what to put.

"It's settled. We're burying a time capsule." Harry states.

"One problem."

"What now, Zac?" Sarah groans.

"Where do we bury it?"

Slowly everyone turns their gaze on to Y/N.

"Your house," Sydney tells her.

"You all agree?" Y/n is surprised.

"Your mom will never leave her house. It's gorgeous."

"Also," Zac chimes in, "You love it and tell us how it's going to be yours one day."

Y/N sighs and nods. "I will ask and will let you know."

_____

It took a lot to convince her mother, but her father liked the idea and supported her. Two against one, Y/N knew her mom was in a losing fight. After lots of hugs and kisses and promises of doing the dishes for two weeks straight, she got permission.

They had decided on a Saturday, wanting to do it early in the morning, unsure how long they would take digging the hole. Her mom designated an area for them to open.

Her mom allowed her to have the house to themselves, trusting them not to do anything but dig a hole. Y/N had everyone promise they would be on their best behavior.

Harry and Zac volunteered to dig, and no one argued. It took over an hour for them to get a decent-sized hole. It looked tiring, but Y/N enjoyed watching Harry's muscle flex as he threw out dirt. Finally, being satisfied with the hole size, mainly Sydney, made them go longer; it was time to place their items inside.

Y/N rewrote her letter a few times, never knowing the right thing to say. It wasn't until she was lying on the floor of her room with Harry's head in her lap did she know what she wanted to tell her future self.

Mitch went first, putting in his first-ever guitar pic, Sarah her Walkman, Harry followed with a copy of Romeo and Juliet, Y/N a chained rose ring, she put it in but not before giving it a small kiss knowing she'd miss it. Zac decided on his baseball mitt, and Sydney threw in a signed polaroid of herself, knowing it'd be worth a lot more once she became famous for her art.

Harry locked it shut with the final object in the box and lowered it down with Mitch's help. It fit well, and they sat around as it began to fill with dirt.

"Ten years, we'll come back and open it up."

"Yeah, but like summertime. I'm sure we'll have more time during the summer than other months." Zac might be right for once.

"June 1998," Sarah suggests.

Everyone thinks about it for a second, it feels so far away, a lifetime, really, but yes, they all agree.

Ten years' time, they will all be digging it up and will relive these moments.

JUNE 1998

Harry removes his jacket half an hour in, and there is nothing to complain about. He tosses it close to her side, and Y/N knows if things were different, he would have gently thrown it at her, and without a second thought, she would have put it on. She missed the times when he loved her. Because as much as she can't admit it out loud, she still loves him.

Now she'll fake conversation with Sydney when her real focus is on Harry and how his muscles seem to grow every time he scoops some dirt out and adds to the pile. He's grown buff over the years, he was always tall and firm in high school due to football, but now he's more defined. The most significant change was in his face, more stern. Not as smiley; it might just be due to being around her. He must hate being in her presence after she broke his heart.

Y/N lets herself get lost in thought when Zac cheers. She looks down, and peeking out in the corner is brown wood.

"We've hit gold."

In the next five minutes, Zac and Harry dig as much of the sides as they can, and soon enough, they are lifting it out before settling it down with a big "thump."

Y/N can't stop eyeing it; it's got dirt in every spot that meets her eye, but she knows what's waiting for her inside of that box, and she can't wait to have it with her once more.

"Who's going to do the honors?" Mitch asks the bolt cutters in his hand, ready to hand them over.

Everyone looks around at each other; no one says a thing until Harry steps forward and reaches to take them from his hand. Mitch hands them to Harry, no question asked. Harry heads straight to Y/N; he stretches his arm out, waiting for her to accept the cutters.

"Think it's only fair Y/N does the honors, seeing as we made her do a lot of groveling to Lorelai ten or so years ago just for us to bury this; not that she let any of us know." Harry smiles, urging her to take it. Y/N fingers brush his rather quickly, but in that small second, she felt her heart rate pick up and fears he might hear it, although that is almost impossible.

"Thank you." He nods, urging her forward.

"Take your time, doll." Zac says sarcastically."

Y/N is too busy getting down on her knees in front to see the glare Harry sent Zac's way. Everyone else catches the look; believe it or not, they all hope this is the moment that brings these two once lovers back again.

"Here goes nothing."

Y/N places the bolt cutters between the lock and counts down to three; it breaks right off the first try.

"You've got some strength!" Sydney exclaims; she was expecting it to take much longer.

Y/N lets the lock fall before reaching up and pulling the single latch. She scans everyone circling around her before opening the crate hating the creaking sound it releases.

There on top are their most prized items from when they were sixteen.

Sydney reaches in first, pulling out a polaroid and pink envelope. She flips it over and lets out the biggest laugh. Sydney turns the photo around, letting everyone see her in the photo wearing her then boyfriend's varsity jacket. It has her signature on the page. "I swore I was going to be famous for my art and would sell this for thousands."

"One day." Harry offers.

Sydney shrugs. "My boyfriend will appreciate this the most if I'm honest."

"He's that crazy for you?" Sarah asks.

Sydney nods, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fortunate." She laughs, letting the moment pass. "Enough, Zac, please, you're next."

Zac, for the first time the whole evening, has fallen silent, almost looks nervous to reach inside. He takes a deep breath to go to the corner of the box and pull out a beat-up baseball mitt. Y/N can see his eyes well up with tears. He chuckles, "I swore I was going to go pro, but that senior injury year changed everything. In a way, Zac felt free; he got to pursue a career in travel journalism. "Enough sap, I volunteer, Harry."

Harry nods, moving forward, sitting next to Y/N thighs touching; she feels her breath hitch; she doesn't dare move. He reaches in for the only book it's resting on the bottom, a white envelope with a scribbled 'H' on top. He sets the envelope aside but keeps the book in hand.

Harry smiles at the book in hand, Romeo and Juliet. It was not his favorite by any means, but it held a special place in his heart because it was the first book Y/N read to him when they first started dating. He remembers telling her he hated how she ignored him for words on paper, so he proposed she read to him aloud, and that way, they could bond. Y/N was thrilled at the idea; the first book was Shakespeare because it was a reading assignment, and she wanted it done that weekend.

Harry hated the ending; he remembers ranting to Y/N as she ran her fingers through his hair to calm him down. He didn't understand why Shakespeare made these two people who were star-crossed lovers fall in love in a week only to have them die.

Safe to say, it took a while to let Y/N read another one of Shakespeare's works.

Y/N's eyes were on the book, and she watched as Harry carefully opened it to the first page, moving it back so that only they could read what was written on the cover page.

It read: I've loved you for six months. I'll love you for six more. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to love you for life. Love, Y/N xxx

Y/N felt tears behind her eyes; she had to look away. She was so naïve at the age, but oh how she loved him, and she knew he loved her just the same. Y/N was so grateful to know she was loved, even if it was years ago.

She doesn't want to go next; instead, Sarah reaches in to save her. Sarah pulls out her folded half of paper and her blue Walkman player. "Oh my goodness, this is going to have some golden tunes."

Mitch chuckles, "You suffered without it. Think was the first time I ever heard you complain about something."

Sarah sends him a playful glare. "Shut it! Why don't you go next, Mr. Sentimental."

Mitch is one to never say no to Sarah, so he shrugs and makes his way forward. Patting Harry on the shoulder causing Harry to shift closer to Y/N. Both Harry and Y/N don't say anything but don't bother to move away either.

Sarah smiled as she watches Mitch pick up a guitar pick. It was the first one he received from his father. "Dad always said I had a guitar in hand."

"Mitch, you've voiced your thoughts out loud." Harry jokes.

"Funny Styles." That's the last of what Mitch says as he moves back to read his letter, and Sarah follows close behind.

Y/N feels everyone staring, but really it's only just Harry. Everyone focused on their own letters but also waiting for a reaction. She slowly reaches in, first pulling out the pink envelope with her initial on the front; Harry wrote it for her, saying she needed a way to identify it years later.

She sets it in her lap before reaching in and getting the item she's been thinking about all day.

A silver rose ring.

It was a gift from Harry; Y/N always spoke of roses and how much her mother loved them. Leading to Harry finding out she loved them just as much. He wore this ring for a long time; he found it in a store in London before they made the move here permanently. It's his last real piece of home, but Aurora had become home, and so had Y/N. It felt right to give to her. She cried, receiving it, and knew it wouldn't fit but told him not to get it resized. She surprised him by wearing it around her neck; she put it on a chain she had. There wasn't a day she wasn't seen without it.

She holds it tightly in her hand as if Harry might rip it out of her hand, wanting it back, but it's hers, and it's special. Y/N never wants to forget her memories with Harry, no matter how much it hurts, thinking back on them.

"I've missed it." She whispers.

Y/N slips it over her head, letting it rest outside her shirt for all to see. She missed the look on Harry's face, but this might be the motivation he needs to speak with her. To talk about where they are now in life.

Except Y/N stands up, brushing the dirt that was on her pants to head somewhere more private to read her letter she wrote to herself. She walks a few feet away and flips open the pink tab, pulls out a folded paper. Her eyes immediately go to the bottom of the page, wherein black ink, it says, "I love Harry (PS: he made you write that, but it doesn't make it any less true."

Everything surrounded him; her love for him was just that large. She reads over her letter taking in the words of how her sixteen-year-old self said she was proud of her and that no matter what happens, it was all for a reason.

It's exactly what she needed to hear.

Harry is watching Y/N stand there read her letter, and he feels the gaze of everyone else to go approach her. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would have been at her side holding her hand or rubbing her back, but now he doesn't even know if they are even friends. Mitch nudges him, and he knows he should check on her, but she surprises everyone by turning around, a grin on her face.

"Mom and I cooked lunch, so let's wash up and eat. All this sure has built up my appetite."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Zac smiles, walking inside heading straight to the kitchen sink.

The others begin to follow Zac inside when Y/N stops hearing her name being called. It's Harry standing by the hole, shovel in hand.

"Should I cover it up?"

Y/N can't help the smile, Harry was always so eager to help, and she's glad his kind helping sport hasn't changed. "No, dad is going to cover it. Mom told him he needs to do more yard work. She called it bonding time."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am."

"Let's head in then."

As Harry is about to walk past her, she reaches her hand out, grabbing his bicep, surprising him. "Thank you."

He nods his head. "Of course."

Y/N sighs; there's so much left unsaid. Their breakup fresh on her mind seeing him walk away from her, bringing it all back. Oh, how she wishes things were different.

She doesn't regret leaving for New York, but she does wonder if there was a way to have made their relationship work; would it have survived or crashed and burned.

In a way, she's glad she never had to find out.

Y/N puts her brave face on; she's surrounded by friends who love her and who she hasn't spoken to for longer than half an hour. She's going to soak in this time and enjoy it.

There are other times to be sad.

MARCH 1990 - ACCEPTANCES

Y/N and Harry were both lost in thought as Harry drove them to their destination. There was a lot to think about

Harry was proud to get a full-ride football scholarship to UCLA and a partial for USC. They were close to home, and he got to play a sport he was good at. These universities were tough to get into, but he impressed the recruits. He didn't bother applying outside the state, knowing he couldn't be far from home. It felt wrong for him; he knew that wasn't the case for Y/N.

Y/N always spoke about leaving the state. She had dreamed about it from a young age especially seeing her brother do it. Gabriel's stories only make her more excited for her future. She loved to travel, no matter the distance.

Harry, of course, knew this; he just thought he could convince her to stay.

Applying to schools was hard for Y/N; there were many universities she wanted to apply to, but she feared rejection, so she set a limit of six. Still, a high number; she just needed options.

When acceptances came in, each application welcomed her. Two east coast universities offered full-ride scholarships, USC offered partial and others only half. She had the money for tuition, her parents saved for her, which she is forever thankful for but knowing she could move across the country like she always dreamed of was calling her name.

The one thing that stopped her was Harry.

Y/N had never known love until Harry, and she knows her leaving will jeopardize that. She also knows if she stays, she might not be happy, always stuck on the "what if?"

She was distraught as soon as she heard the news. Her mom saw her pace outside, then sit, pour herself tea then began the cycle again. Y/N dreamed of Columbia. It was her dream university, and to give that up, but also having to give up Harry, she couldn't pick; she didn't want to.

Harry parks the car; he drove them to an abandoned cliffside that's full of wildflowers. Y/N didn't rush out of the vehicle as she once would have wanted to feel the cold breeze. Now, she stares ahead, letting the car fill with silence—neither one wanting to be the one to begin the conversation that would change everything.

"Is this the end?" Y/N asks her voice, betraying her, as she feels her throat tighten up.

Harry doesn't answer; he reaches for her hand and holds it tight.

"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be." She's barely holding herself together. Y/N's staring at the side of his head, silently begging for him to meet her gaze.

"Life isn't always as easy as the last four years have been for us," Harry tells her, finally meeting her eyes.

"I love you. You know that, right."

"I know." He whispers.

Y/N shuts her eyes, repeats the words in her head she hasn't been able to voice out, knowing she's going to be breaking more than one heart right now.

"I can't stay, Harry." Y/N blinks her tears away, but they come right back, seeing Harry holding back tears. "As much as I want to, as much as I can't let you go. I also can't stay."

"Don't let me go then." He whispers. He reaches forward, cradling her cheek in his hand. It's the softest touch he's given her. It's as if he's trying to remember how she feels.

"It's not fair."

"I don't care." Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tear away that managed to escape.

"But I do."

"I don't care." He tries again, Harry can't let her go. She's his life, he's too young to know about forever, but he doesn't want to live a life without her. "I'll go with you."

Y/N lets her tears begin to fall at his words. "No." Her voice firm. "It's over if you leave."

Harry pulls back, hurt by her words but Y/N's just as upset.

She lets go of her hold on him and hurries out of the car. Harry yells her name, begging her to come back, but she's too busy crying to listen to him. Soon enough, she's surrounded by trees, and there are two trails to follow, but she can't pick; it is faith mocking her in the smallest of ways. Instead, she settles for sitting right in the center on a patch of grass.

Y/N sits hunched over, crying; that's how Harry finds her. He doesn't say a word. He sits next to her and pulls her into his lap.

"I'm sorry. So sorry, darling."

Harry begins to rock her back and forward, letting his tears all as he rests his chin on top of her head. Begins to whisper sweet nothings, just wanting her close. He hates that they are causing each other this hurt.

Y/N's cries have stopped; she sniffles from time to time. The holds she has on Harry is iron tight as if he'd vanish if she let go for even a second."

"Summer." She whispers, breaking the silence.

"What?" Harry is not sure what she can mean.

"We have Summer."

"Yeah, we do."

"We have to let each other go at the end of Summer." Her tone is final.

"Y/N-"

Y/N stops him, "Harry, I'm not letting you give up your dreams for me, and I know you won't let me do the same."

"I can't say goodbye," He confesses.

"Then we won't. We'll kiss goodnight and pretend like we'll see each other in the morning."

"That's heartbreaking, love." He chuckles bitterly.

"I love you, Harry Styles."

"And I love you, my angel."

Harry is done crying, instead leans in and kisses her like he should have done earlier as soon as he had parked the car. The kiss is fast, not soft like all the kisses he's used to giving her, no he wants her to remember this kiss. He wants her to feel everything he isn't saying.

I love you. You're mine. You're my best friend. I will love you forever. He wants her to feel it all.

"Show me you love me." Y/N pulls back breathless, lips plush begging to be kissed again. Harry knows what she's asking, and he's not one to deny her.

He stands up, confusing her, but he comes prepared. Harry walks for the blanket he dumped a few feet away from them, grabbing it and spreading it out. Y/N is quick to lay back on the soft blanket. It warms her instantly. She smiles, reaching her hand up as Harry leans over her, his bottom half straddling her waist, her hand intertwining in his soft curls. Y/N brings him down for a kiss needing his touch to be close.

Harry and Y/N are wrapped in their own world, lost in their kiss; it's always been them against the world, but soon they are going to venture off separately. It's something that neither of them wants to wrap their head around, and they won't not until they have to.

They will enjoy graduation together, hand in hand receiving diplomas. Y/N will deliver a beautiful valedictorian speech. The joint graduation party will be a joy and one they sneak away from to spend watching the moon reflect over the ocean. It's the one place they feel at peace, the sea being a favorite of both of theirs. The Summer will bring endless days out, travels up the coast of California even as far as making it to San Francisco for a trip. There is not a second where they don't spend time together, and their parents understand; it breaks their heart, but it's their future, and all they can do is support them. Their love will only grow this Summer which makes it more heartbreaking when they say goodbye in August.

But none of that matters because, for now, they have each other, and that is enough.

Harry pulls back, leaning his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing together.

"I love you."

"I love you so much; it's not going away just because--" Harry stops, not being able to voice the words out loud. He can't say it, or he'll start crying.

"I know, dove." She trails her finger up his chest until they right over his heart. Y/N can feel how fast it's beating; it beats for her. "Maybe a day will come where we can be together again, that's if you don't find someone else, which I understand if you do."

"It's not going to happen."

"You don't know that," She mutters.

"Hey, I love you. No one is going to love me like you do. I'd be a fool to love someone else." Y/N settles her chin on his chest. She's staring into his eyes, trying to find a hint of a lie, but there is none. There's only love and sadness in his green orbs.

"I love you too."

Harry sighs; there's not much they can do to brighten the mood. "You know what we can do?"

"What?"

"Make a summer bucket list. First on my list is to kiss the prettiest girl I know every day." She laughs, making Harry break out in a big grin. "Lucky for you, that happens to be you." He tells her, booping her nose with his index finger.

Y/N laughs; it's only March. She has the rest of Spring and all of Summer to love Harry. To love him with every bone and cell in her body because that last day will come sooner than she likes.

_____

The end of Summer arrived, and she bid Harry goodnight with a kiss at the door like normal, like he was going to show up tomorrow bright and early for breakfast and kisses, but that wasn't the case. It was goodbye, even though neither of them could admit it.

Y/N and Harry walked away from each other; they didn't say no contact, but it was like they both silently agreed on it because there was no letters or calls to each other, no visits to each other's homes, no visiting each other parents, at least not in the beginning

The love was there, but life goes on.

JUNE 1998

After a delicious meal and second servings, everyone sits back stuffed. Everyone enjoyed a lovely home-cooked meal with entertaining conversation. Y/N enjoyed watching it happen, not participating much in conversation. She never was that interesting, she felt, always let her friends carry the conversation. She could feel Harry glance at her from time to time, but Y/N still hasn't recovered, knowing that Harry's most prized possession at sixteen was a book she wrote a note in.

Y/N wonders if he's regretting that now.

"Have we overstayed our welcome?" Zac asks, taking Y/N's silence as something terrible.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're fine. I like listening, fascinating conversations going on."

"Come on, share something with us." Zac urges her.

"Uhh… med school has been going well. Have all of the Summer off, might do some sightseeing before going home."

"Yeah, driving home to Massachusetts instead of taking a plane like a normal person." Sydney winces at the thought, not at all wanting to think about the pit stops she had to make.

"Maybe not the smartest idea, but I encountered zero troubles; my baby, Twila, runs smoothly."

"Should get her checked out again before leaving." Harry comments.

Y/N nods. "Dad's been on my ass about that as well, but I've got no rush, especially since all I ever do here is walk around town."

"Enough car talk, let's talk about the time Zac got his clothes stolen after gym class sophomore year." Sarah sets them off on a never-ending conversation of memories.

As soon as one story is finished, a new one is being shared. Y/N forgot most of these, but as her friends tell them, she feels each memory unlock and surfacing. The conversation goes on forever, with no end in sight because that's how friendship is; it's never-ending. Especially when all they did for four years was hanging out together, creating these memories they now are so fond of.

It's around seven o'clock, the sun begins to set when everyone decides to head home. She walks them out, giving them hugs and promises of seeing each other again before everyone leaves town. Y/N notices Harry lingering by, but she doesn't say anything.

Y/N waves goodbye to Sarah and Mitch when Harry comes to stand by her. She waits for him to say goodbye, not going to rush him, which is why what he says next surprised her.

"Do you want help cleaning up?"

Harry looks shy, asking, and Y/N knows he's about to take it back, so she nods. "That'd be great."

She walks back in, and Harry follows close behind, making sure to lock the door, just in case. "I'll rinse, and you put it in the dishwasher. Okay?"

"Okay, yes."

They begin to work in silence, the only sound of the running water. Y/N wonders if he's going to stay longer or if he's going to leave right after.

God, she could really go for a glass of wine.

As Y/N hands him the last plate, she dries her hand with the red dish towel before handing a white one over to Harry, who thanks her quietly.

She leans back against the counter, debating asking him to stay for a drink or not. Harry catches her staring and smiles, unleashing the dimples. It seems he made the decision for her.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Y/N turns around, reaching up for a glass for herself, not wanting to face him just in case he rejects her.

"Wine sounds great."

Y/N grabs two stemmed wine glasses and opens the bottle of red wine rather quickly; she's surprised her hands aren't shaking because she's so nervous. She fills both glasses halfway before stepping forward to hand Harry his cup.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Harry takes a sip, humming at the taste. Y/N isn't sure where Zac got the bottle. She's just happy it tastes good.

"Do you want to sit outside, watch the sunset on the steps?"

Harry agrees and steps out, holding the door open for her. She sits down, leaving room for Harry. He leaves a small space in between them.

"I love sunsets, never the same."

"Same as sunrises."

"I'm not a morning person as I once was, a bit of a night owl." She shares.

"Oh really, why is that?"

"I'm not sure." Y/N knows that's a lie; what she wanted to say is because she has no one to wake up to. No one to give morning kisses or morning cuddles.

"You must still love mornings."

"I do." He chuckles. "I do three-mile runs each morning."

"Three!" She gasps. "I'd be tired the entire day; I prefer going on hikes or long walks."

"Used to it already."

"Pity, to your partner. Stealing cuddles from them." She mutters, taking a sip of her wine, hoping he didn't hear.

Harry wants to respond, not sure if she was asking or stating. Oh, how he wishes he could know what she was thinking.

"Didn't know you were interested in medicine, Harry."

"I wasn't, not until my injury." He rubs his shoulder as if he remembered the pain. "After finding out, I was done for; I just needed something entirely different. My physical therapist spoke about his journey to entering the field. He told me to enter something that captured my attention and something I would never get tired of learning about. It led me to psychiatry. My professors were great guidance."

"John Hopkins, right?"

"Yes, the very one."

"Tough school."

He laughs out loud, hand on his belly. "You're telling me, miss dean's list each semester. Graduating with highest honors from Harvard."

"You know me, my head always stuck in a book."

"Still don't take compliments."

"Makes me feel weird. I love what I do; I can't wait to start and just learn it all. This sponge I call my brain is ready to absorb it all."

"I'm sure you're going to do amazing."

"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She pats his knee before quickly retracting her hand back into her lap.

"Where is your residency?" Harry looks at her, a frown on his face. "Don't think I asked you."

"Well, Harvard medical was a dream, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I accepted Massachusetts General. I really love the environment they have in the hospital." She sets her wine glass down, turning her body to look at Harry. She misses the look of shock on his face. "Everyone is so kind--"

"Y/N," He tries, but she continues on.

"I went for a tour, and it was busy and crowded, but they were so kind with the children. When I entered the pediatrics ward, I just knew it's where I had to be."

"Y/N,"

"I already know who I'm going to be working under, and she's--"

"Love," Harry tries his gaze on her face hoping to get a reaction.

That shuts Y/N right up; it has been a long time since she last heard that term of endearment.

Her eyes are on Harry; he has her full attention. He can tell she's a bit stunned, but his news is life-changing. "I have my residency at Massachusetts General."

"You what?" She was not expecting that news. Harry is in the same hospital as her. "Are you saying?"

"We would have run into each other if we hadn't come home for the time capsule, yes." He answers for her.

"Fate," she whispers.

Harry nods, eyes shining with tears. That one word was enough for Harry to know she might feel the same.

He sees Y/N's eyes flicker to his lips, going back to his eyes, then leans in. He does the same, wanting to feel her close more than ever.

"Y/N, you left the-" Harry and Y/N spring apart, the moment gone started by her mother. "Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry clears his throat, standing up to offer the woman who startled him a hug. "Hello Lorelai, wonderful to see you."

"How's your mother?"

"She's well. Left yesterday to visit my nephews for the weekend."

"That's nice."

The three now stand outside together, Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels, not able to standstill.

"Truly wasn't expecting to see you," Lorelai tells him.

"We were catching up" Harry smiles at Y/N. "We were keeping each other company."

"Very kind."

"I should get going; it's late." Feeling as if he overstayed his welcome.

Lorelai senses the tension a second too late as Harry is saying his goodbyes. "Well, please do stop by before you leave town."

"Of course."

"I'll walk you out." Y/N smiles at her mother as she leads Harry out through the side gate, personally wanting to avoid a run-in with her father.

Y/N, true to her word, walks him to his car; he is about to round his car, heading to the driver's seat but stops.

"Y/N?" His voice was shaky.

"Yes, Harry."

"Let's have dinner together." He rushes out in one go.

"Harry…" She pauses, "I--"

He interrupts her. "Don't tell me you have a--" he trails off, not wanting to say the word.

"Course not." She replies quickly.

"But,"

Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a moment to get her thoughts together. "I won't do this unless this is it. This is the time I'm yours again. For good."

"You've always been mine." He steps forward, hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She lets out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace take over her body. "Eight years and no one compared. No one ever will."

"H." He can see the tears in her eyes.

"I mean it. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you. It will always be you."

Y/N closes the gap between them; they are the closest they have been in eight years. She searches his face for any sign of doubt but finds none. Only sees love in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"I love you." She confesses feeling a weight leave her shoulders as the words leave her mouth for the first time in years. "I never stopped. I will never stop."

"Sweetest words I have ever heard. Words I want to hear forever." Harry's smile is one she had never seen before; it's wide, and she swears it reaches the sky. His eyes hold a shine they never have before.

There's one last thing she needs for this moment to be perfect.

"Please kiss me."

"With pleasure."

She's never dreamed of this moment in fear of it not happening, but it finally is, and Y/N swears she feels the stars aligned just for them. Harry's lips were getting closer, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a wave of warmth. She finally felt at home. Her whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on jets as his arms wrapped around her tightly, afraid that she'd disappear. Y/N's fingers slowly moved up Harry's chest until they tangled with the back of his short curls. She tugged, needing more, feeling her legs buckle at the moan Harry let out.

All she felt was love, and she wanted to feel it forever. Y/N let Harry pull away; he didn't go far, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their breaths mix together. There's a bashful smile on Y/N's face, but this moment feels too good to be true.

Harry and Y/N stand there wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's gaze as if no one else existed and there was no risk of interruption.

"I'll be here at noon tomorrow, going to take you out if you'll let me."

"Yes, H. I accept." She kisses him softly two more times before unwrapping herself from him, putting a bit of distance between each other, or they very well would stand there all night kissing.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She confirms

Harry steals one last kiss, short and sweet, before getting in his car. He sends her a kiss that she pretends to catch and places it over her heart.

She knows he is blushing even though she can't see it.

As he drives away from her, all the hurt and pain of not having him washes away. Harry is hers, and she is his.

All is right.

Their paths finally crossed again, and this time there would be no final goodbye.

_____

Harry showed up the day after as promised. Y/N was eagerly waiting, she had felt time go slow when they had been apart, but it's a monumental day because once again, after so many years, Harry and Y/N are finally reunited.

She waited on the steps of her house like she used to when she was a teen waiting for him to pick her up and take her out on a date. It was bringing back the best memories. Harry parked right in front, and just as he was rounding his car to go meet her, she was in front of jumping in his car.

"Woah!" Harry was fast to react, only stumbling a little put holding her tight. "This is a nice welcome." He teases.

"Can you blame me? I missed you." She tells him, nuzzling her face in his neck.

"Missed you too, love. Eight years, I've missed you."

"Don't start, H. Don't want to cry. We're here now."

"You're right."

Y/N has Harry set her down; they stand there smiling at each other, taking each other in.

"Up for a drive?"

She nods. "Will you drive me to the moon?"

"Anywhere you want, angel."

Harry drives them to one place she hasn't visited because of the memory it holds. She's guessing it's because he wants to create new, better ones.

"It's still beautiful here." She looks out through the window, not wanting to leave the safety of the car. She wants to stay close to Harry.

Y/N sits in silence with Harry holding each other's hands, allowing each other to just enjoy this time together. The calmness of being loved and feeling loved. She knows there are lots to talk about, but she settles for the quietness for now.

She's not sure how much time has passed, but she's now facing Harry, and he's toying with the rose ring hanging on her neck.

"Y/N," he whispers; she lifts her gaze from his lilac nails and hums for him to go on. "I have to ask." She lets his words sit in their silence. She knows what he's asking, the same thing running through her mind.

"No." She frowns. "It felt wrong. I could never-- it was never you."

Harry can tell she feels sheepish confessing this.

She chuckles dryly. "I must sound lame; the last person I kissed was you eight years ago."

"No, it's not." He assures her.

She sighs, "Harry."

"It was the same for me. My friends tried to set me up multiple times, but it felt like cheating. No one understood."

"So you haven't…" She trails off.

"Well acquainted with my hand." He jokes.

She burst out laughing, and seconds later, Harry is as well. Their joyous laugh fills the car but also their hearts.

"I love you." She breathes out, trying to catch her breath.

"And I love you."

"Want to know a secret," she asks him.

He nods.

She turns her head to the window; she can see herself and Harry in the reflection. His eyes on her full of adoration.

"I wrote you letters, hundreds. I've lost count, really, but I've got a box full; they are locked up in mom's attic." Y/N turns, looking back at Harry; there's a soft look on his face. "I wanted to send them, but I couldn't. I didn't want to interfere."

"Darling, that's-" he chokes up, tears escaping him. "Can I read them?"

Y/N nods, "Of course, they were intended for you after all."

"Will you read them with me?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Do you want to know something now?"

Y/N reaches forward and brushes a loose curl back. "Tell me."

"Each book I've read, I have written a dedication in it for you."

"What?" She says, surprised.

"The new bookshelf in mom's living room is filled with books." He waits for her to nod before continuing on. "All books for you."

"Harry," It's her turn to cry now, it seems.

"Thought about you just as much, angel."

"Do you think we did the right thing, letting each other go?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"It brought us together again. Sure it was the time capsule, but there is also Massachusetts." He reminds her.

"Isn't that wild?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Same residency."

"It was fate, angel. Like you said last night."

"Yeah, guess fate had a plan, after all, dove."

Harry chokes up, tears welling up in his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Fate had a plan."

"After."

"Dove," she breathes out, not even noticing she slipped it in; it came out like second nature. "You're my dove, my kind man, the love of my life."

Harry grabs her face and connects his lips to hers. It's not soft; it's fast and hot but full of love. She leaned back, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Harry chases her lips, not finished yet. She lets him kiss her as he pressed soft pecks on her lips, liking the feel of her soft lips.

"Is it too soon to ask to marry you?" Harry asks, trailing kisses down her neck.

"No, never too soon." She giggles as he kisses a soft spot right under her jaw. "If I recall, I asked you one too many times during high school."

Harry chuckles, nodding. "Should have accepted sooner."

She looks at him, not being able to contain her laughter, knowing very well he should have.

"Marry me." He asks, all traces of laughter gone. He holds his breath, waiting for a response.

"Yes, of course, dove."

Harry seals it with a kiss. She accepted, and yes, it may seem rushed, but they aren't getting any younger. Their love was put on hold, and now because the time is right, they get to pick up as if no time passed at all.

They are different people, but Harry and Y/N have only become more perfect for one another.

2000 DECEMBER - MASSACHUSETTS

Her eyes snap open, and she quickly sits up, throwing the blanket off herself feeling hot and unfocused, startling Harry making him drop the Pop-Tart he was eating to fall on his chest.

She looks back at Harry, sitting up with crumbs covering his mouth and half-eaten brown sugar cinnamon sitting on top of his black sweats.

Y/N can't help but laugh at the sight in front of her, her nightmare now pushed aside.

"You're laughing." He pouts. "You gave me a proper scare."

She frowns, "I had a bad dream."

"Yeah, want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head no, instead asking him an important question. "Why are you eating Pop-Tarts in bed?" She picks up the broken half and takes a bite, appreciating the strong cinnamon flavor.

"I got hungry, but I didn't want to leave you alone, and honestly, I'd never willingly leave your cuddles."

"Did you bring me my own?" She mutters, swallowing the last piece of his.

"Why, of course, I'm no monster."

"What time are you going in today?" She asks as she opens up the package handing him half since she ate his. He happily accepts.

"Noon."

She glances at the alarm clock and sees it is only nine am. She mumbles an 'okay,' settling herself to lay her head on his chest.

"How are you spending your day off?" His hand running through her hair, always wanting to be touching her in some way.

"In bed."

Harry doesn't like that. "Still feeling sick." He states.

"Yes, but I'm fine."

"Okay, but we do work in a hospital." He playfully reminds her.

She lets out a deep sigh. "I'll have Annie check on me tomorrow."

"Thank you." He kisses her temple, definitely leaving crumbs of food behind.

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you too."

Y/N and Harry had come a long way from the Summer of 98'. They got back together and were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Their families were thrilled at the news of them getting back together and even happier when they learned about their shared residency location.

That Summer led them to where they are now; two years into their residency programs and one year into marriage.

Harry could not wait; he had wanted to take her to city hall for a quick signature but knew she deserved better. They were wed in the botanical garden under the beautiful flower arch she dreamed of. It was the wedding she always dreamed of; it was small and beautiful. Only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Their wedding photo; Harry gazing at her as if she put all the stars in the sky and Y/N smiling at the camera. It sits framed on Y/N's bedside. He decided it went there, so when he turns to look over at her, he sees all of her beauty laid out for him and the happiest day of his life.

Harry had fought her on changing her last name, wanting her to be called Doctor Y/LN because she worked for it and was a man who wanted his wife to shine and do all she set her mind to. Harry went as far as suggesting hyphenating but still no. She changed her last name to 'Styles.' Y/N told him she spent years dreaming about it in high school, even years later when he wasn't by her side. It's an honor to share his last name because one day, their future children would as well.

Y/N has a year left in her pediatrics residency, and Harry has two years to go. She has her fellowship to think about, which will add three more years; her focus on Critical Care Medicine. Harry has decided on Addiction Psychiatry which is only a year-long, but he's got his last two years to worry about first.

Life has been going well, they've had their fair share of arguments but nothing they can't fix. Harry can't say he doesn't love making up; it always leads to a good time.

They didn't know what life had in store for him but looking around at the photos they have hanging up, a picture of Mitch and Sarah's little boy Nathaniel who only gets bigger every time they see him. A photo of Sydney showing off her engagement ring, face full of tears but smile large; Zac off traveling the country smiling in his picture of him visiting the Grand Canyon part of his trip to visit each National Park and document his journey.

This group of six friends is living their dreams; at sixteen, none of them know what life would be like twelve years down the road, but if it wasn't for each of them having this friendship and deciding to bury a time capsule, they might not be where they are right not; happier and more in love than ever.

Harry and Y/N are filled with love and know life couldn't be better than it is; incredibly grateful to be in love and be loved back just the same.

Little do they know their love will soon have to be shared.

_____

Thank you so much for reading!

I love you and I hope you loved this story <3

#harry styles #timetravelathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry fluff #thank you for reading!

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karanna1 · 4 years

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AU - Lena Luthor Saves Krypton

Lena is somehow sent back in time and finds herself on Krypton 30 years before the planet explodes. Kara doesn’t exist yet. Krypton has no idea what’s about to happen to them.

Lena realizes that with her knowledge of what’s to come and intellect to devise a solution, she can do two things. One, she can save an entire species from near extinction. Two, she can save Kara from ever having to experience the pain of losing her family, her home, and being abandoned. Kara could live a happy life and never know the burden of Supergirl or being the last daughter of Krypton.

So instead of trying to find a way back to Earth, back to her own time, she settles into life on Krypton, becomes fluent in Kryptonese, and sets about with a spectacularly single-minded focus of changing the future - to save this dying world (and Kara).

She succeeds...mostly. They can’t fix the damage that’s already been done to the planet. Their sun will die and destroy Krypton still, but with Lena’s help they’re able to locate a barren planet in another system that has a white star. It’s brand new, strong, and will live for untold trillions of years (provided Kryptonians didn’t try to harness its power again).

They terraform the planet and create “New Krypton” using the dome concept that Zor-El invented fused with Coluan bottling technology. All Kryptonians are instantly transported to their new home that’s identical to the old one save for one difference - the white sun grants them god-like powers that are beyond what Lena ever saw Kara and Clark capable of on Earth. Kryptonians are overwhelmed en masse by these powers. Some go power mad and attempt coups and form radical sects. Others realize the gift they’ve been given and, with Lena’s guidance, Kryptonian society develops under a new mission - to travel the galaxy and offer help to all those in need. Not just offering knowledge and technology this time, but themselves with their newfound powers.

Lena keeps her distance from the House of El as much as she can. It’s nearly impossible considering their standing with the Kryptonian High Council. Lena has to work very closely with the Council. Jor-El and his brother, Zor-El, are brilliant scientists and statesmen. Alura In-Ze is a rising star in the judicial system. Her marriage to Zor-El, second born son of the House of El, caused quite a few waves, but when Lara Lor-Van, a brilliant biologist and prominent noble of the House of Van, agrees to marry Jor-El, it’s all anyone can talk about. All 4 of them live very public lives due to their professions, their positions on the High Council, and their nobility.

They’re ever so fascinated by Lena Luthor, the human from Earth that appeared one day to save their entire planet. Their savior. The one their people have named “The New Dawn”. Lena wants nothing to do with the House of El. It’s too much. She can’t bear to be so close to Kara’s family without Kara. It feels wrong. Unfortunately, with how much Lena tries to avoid them, the 4 nobles think they’ve done something to offend her, and constantly attempt ways to make amends. It only makes Lena’s life that much more difficult.

But she still knows the exact date and time that Kara Zor-El steps into existence. Later, she will know the moment Kal-El is born (mostly because Lara’s natural birth is all anyone can talk about).

Lena meets Kara on New Krypton entirely by accident one day when Zor-El brings his brilliant young daughter, a prodigy in the Science Guild, to see Krypton’s finest laboratory entirely unannounced. The same laboratory that Lena founded and runs. She’s stricken, having tried to avoid this moment for as long as she could, knowing that eventually she’d have to see Kara as child, which would spell the end of every fanciful dream or slightest hope she had of a chance that someday she would find Kara, her best friend, again. Seeing the reality both warms her heart and breaks it all the same. This bouncing bundle of joy and inquisitiveness has the same blinding smile, in all its purity, with that same head of golden hair.

“You’re THE Lena Luthor?”

She kneels before her so they’re at eye level. “I suppose I am. And you’re THE Kara Zor-El?”

The ten year old gasps. “You know who I am?”

“Of course. I know all the important people. And you are a very important person, Kara.”

“I am?”

Zor-El interjects. “I’ve told Lena all about you, my dear. I’m sure she’s grown tired of my endless babbling about my wonderful daughter and her keen scientific mind.”

“Not at all,” Lena replies a bit flatly and tries to tune him out as she focuses on the young girl who will one day be a most extraordinary woman. “Do you enjoy the Science Guild, Kara?”

“Yes! I love to learn new things. As many things as I can! Sometimes father asks me to work with him in his laboratory at home and I help him with his projects!”

“That does sound like fun. I enjoy creating things as well.”

“You’re the most brilliant bio-engineer on Krypton! I’ve read all about you! You saved us.”

Lena shies away from the praise and instead fumbles her way forward, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Zor-El, whom she’d never given the time of day until he walked in with his daughter.

“Tell me, Kara, do you like other subjects besides science?”

Kara fidgets, a little confused. “Well, I don’t...they don’t give you much time for other subjects. I-I do try to read about other things like art and history when I have free time, but I’m not really allowed—“

“She’s a hard worker and a wonderful student,” Zor-El interrupts again.

Lena ignores him. “Do you enjoy writing, Kara?”

“Writing?”

“Creation comes in many forms. I enjoy being able to create things with my hands. Machines. Technology. Things to help people. Science is my passion, but there are many other ways to help people. Ways that I’m not very good at, but others are. Writing takes a curious mind, creativity, and a way with words. I believe you might have a gift for that.”

“A gift for words?” Her little brow crinkles as she considers it.

Lena nods. “A writer can do a great many things that a scientist cannot. They are equally as powerful and important. What matters is doing what you love most, what inspires you most. You’re going to do great things one day, Kara. Maybe with the Science Guild, maybe with something else... The future is limitless for you.”

“You really think I could be that important someday?”

“You already are.” Lena smiles and breathes deeply. “Do you know what your name means where I come from?”

She shakes her head. “I have read about Earth. It’s very far away and my Aunt Astra says their civilization is primitive and filled with savages. They have my name there too?”

“Daughter, do not speak—“

Lena waves off Zor-El’s warning without looking at him.

“That’s not an unfair assessment of Earth compared to Krypton, but I do believe humanity would surprise a great many Kryptonians, including your Aunt. In my native language, Kara means ‘beloved friend’.”

Kara beams in a way that is so achingly familiar. It’s like an echo in Lena’s memory. Not exact, not complete, but the beginning of what it will become.

“I like that. Does that mean I’m your friend?”

Lena feels it in that moment. The melting warmth simultaneous with the absolute shattering of what was left of her heart.

“I will always be your friend, darling. Always.”

Kara leaves with her father and Lena’s coworkers are concerned when she goes off planet for an impromptu holiday without notice. She returns two months later and picks up as if she never left.

It’s around that time that one of the people she’s befriended in her years on Krypton remarks at how ageless she seems for a human that supposedly has a short life span. It sparks Lena’s curiosity. Indeed, it’s been nearly 30 years since she traveled back in time and found herself on a new planet. Yet you’d be hard pressed to find a single physical difference. Kryptonians aged slowly under a red star, and even slower still under the white star, but Lena was human. Her body wasn’t designed to accommodate solar radiation the way Kryptonians did. She was over 50 years old now, yet she still didn’t look a day over 28.

More years pass and New Krypton thrives. The galaxy is brought together through New Krypton’s diplomacy and thousands of planets and species are united under a banner of peace. There are always dissenters, but happiness and prosperity is widespread. Lena finds joy in friendships and attempts romantic relationships, but nothing ever really takes. Still, she’s content. She misses Earth, of course, and hopes to return one day before she dies, whenever that will be, but she’s found peace in knowing that she is able to be the one thing she’s always wanted - a force for good.

She’s at dinner with coworkers one night when Lara and Jor-El spot her. She sighs and straightens, preparing for their next attempt to get in her good graces.

“Do they never desist?” One of them mutters next to her ear. “Surely they’re intelligent enough to know when they’re not wanted?”

“Don’t be unkind, but help me keep it short if it goes on too long.”

“Lena! It’s wonderful to see you,” Lara says.

“You as well. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Lena’s table has gone conspicuously, and therefore awkwardly, silent.

Lara and Jor-El look around at the group uncomfortably.

“We were wondering...well, our niece is being inducted to the—“

“The Science Council as First Order,” Lena finishes for her. “Yes, I’m aware. It’s a great honor. I’m sure the House of El is quite proud.”

“Indeed we are,” Jor-El jumps in. “She’s a most remarkable young woman and we couldn’t be prouder of who she’s become.”

“We are holding a celebration to mark the occasion and were wondering if you might honor us by attending? It will be quite the event.” Lara does a slight eyeroll. “Jor is insisting on all the fantastical things.”

Jor-El nods enthusiastically. “My brother isn’t one for celebrations so I’ve taken up the mantle. Kara deserves all the praise she’s earned with her hard work and dedication.”

“You’ll have to forgive my mate’s enthusiasm. He’s quite invested in Kara since she can share his passion for his life’s work while our son is—“

“Disgustingly hopeless,” Jor-El grumbles.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “A great disappointment he’s been then?”

“Goodness no!” Lara shakes her head and shoots a warning look at her husband. “Kal is a fine boy. Just...a little lost.”

“Perhaps he is simply in need of a different path than the one his father has in mind,” Lena finds the words tumbling out of her mouth without thinking twice. The couple stares at her agape, but she continues without care. “I can certainly sympathize with the need to step out of the shadow of a family’s overbearing legacy.” She sighs. “While I thank you for considering me, it’s simply not possible with my days usually booked from dawn to dusk. Besides, parties have never been altogether pleasant endeavors for me.”

The disappointment on their faces isn’t what changes her mind. It’s that as soon as she says the words, she regrets it. She’s, of course, kept up with Kara’s doings and was concerned when she heard about the recent move in the Science Guild. Was journalism just a secondary passion since she couldn’t truly use her mind on Earth the way she could on Krypton? Or was this a woman just following in her family’s footsteps because she believed it was the right thing to do? Lena hadn’t seen or spoken to Kara in 16 years. Not since the day Zor-El brought her to the lab.

In the end, it’s Lena’s concern and curiosity for Kara’s well being that wins out. Though she very well knows that the woman that existed in another life, on another planet, is not the woman who lives here now on New Krypton. Even if she shared the same name and the same face...maybe even the same bright eyes and sunny smile. Even then.

“Send me the invitation. I’ll see what I can do,” Lena says, to the surprise of everyone at her table, including the two standing next to it.

They nod, stunned but pleased, and say their goodbyes quickly, walking away.

Lena’s coworkers all turn to her in surprise, but she refuses to answer their questions and excuses herself early for the evening.

She doesn’t show for the celebration. She torments herself for a week coming up to it and can’t bring herself to go. The fear of the past and her memories being trod upon are too strong. But somehow she finds herself in the Starling Grove anyway, just as it comes to an end. The evening is late and guests slowly make their exit after the long day of partying. Lena practically sneaks in, staying in shadows, not knowing what she hopes to find or what she could see that would make all her fears come true.

Is it any wonder that fate would intervene? That there would be no circumstance in which Lena could fly so close to the sun and not be touched?

“If avoiding people is your specialty, you’re very skilled at it.”

It’s almost terrifying to hear her voice again. It’s a different language being spoken, but the voice is the same. As if it’d been snatched from the deepest recesses of Lena’s memories, of a different life and a different world, and brought to the present in flesh and blood with a bolt of lightning.

She turns and it’s Kara smiling at her. Not the sunny smile. The soft, tender, reassuring one. The one that she used to share with Lena when she had one of her harder days. Kara was no longer the small and precocious child she met all those years ago, the one that she could almost convince herself was a complete stranger and that there was no connection between the child and the woman she knew. But that was gone now. The Kara standing before her was the same one she’d left behind on Earth. The one she’d given up in order to save her. The one who walked into her office so many years ago, trailing behind her cousin, and Lena knew she was done for.

Her eyes were so blue as she looked at her...bluer than Lena remembered and it seemed so impossible. Perhaps it wasn’t real. Perhaps she was dreaming. But she wasn’t...was she?

“My skills must be rusty since you were able to catch me.”

Kara put a finger to her smiling lips. “Shh. Finding people is one of my untold gifts.”

“I imagine you have a lot of those.”

Kara looks pleasantly flustered and she stammers over her words in a way that Lena knows so well that the sound of it squeezes her heart in a vise like grip.

She’s not the same person. She’s not your Kara. Your Kara doesn’t exist anymore. Over and over she repeats this in her head.

“Wait...” Kara finally collects herself and peers at Lena more closely. “You’re-you’re Lena Luthor! My Uncle said you might be here, but I never thought...”

“On my home world, they like to say it’s fashionable to be late. However, tonight was just a tad bit too far. I...I simply wanted to stop by and wish you well. A-and to congratulate you on your achievement.”

Did she manage to say that with any passing conviction?

“Thank you. That means a great deal coming from someone like you.”

“Are you happy?” She blurts before her good sense can kick in. “This life...does it make you happy?”

Kara looks at her oddly for a long moment, clearly thrown, but not put off. Lena doesn’t know what else to say that could fix her blunder.

“Yes,” she says, a serene smile creeps across her face. “I’m very happy. I love my family and my friends. I enjoy my work. I hope to have a family of my own one day, but I don’t mind waiting for the right person. Everyone always wants to rush me into something, telling me that I shouldn’t be alone, but I don’t mind it. When it’s right, I know that it will be worth the wait.”

Lena’s heart stutters and freezes. “I-I’m glad to hear that. Truly. I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time though. I’m sure you have somewhere to be and it’s late so I really should be going anyway.”

“Oh! Um. Yes, of course.” She looks disappointed, but Lena can’t think about that. “Thank you for being here.”

Her legs feel as though they’re weighted with cement as she walks away. Her mind screams at her to run, but her body doesn’t seem to get the message. She doesn’t want to leave Kara’s side. Not like this. Not after she’s found her again.

But it’s not her. Not really.

“My Lady?”

She turns around at once. Kara stands there, fiddling with her hands, her head tilted to the side.

“Apologies. I-I remember reading that you never liked that title. You prefer...what was it...” She closes her eyes as she searches for it. “Oh!” Her eyes fly open again. “Miss Luthor. I should have addressed you as ‘Miss Luthor’, yes?”

The ‘Miss’ was heavily accented and sounded nothing like how she used to say it, but it still tore Lena apart.

“I never forgot what you said.”

The voice in Lena’s head screams again for her to run, but instead she draws closer. She needs to hear it.

Her Kara.

No, it’s not her.

“What did I say?”

“I was a little girl. My father brought me to your lab to show me around.”

“I remember.”

Don’t let her do this. Don’t let her pull you in again. You can’t. For both of your sakes, you can’t.

“You talked about different ways of creating. Of passion. It’s silly, I know, and I’m sure you say it to all the children who read about you in school and have a serious case of hero worship, but...you told me I was important.”

“You are.”

It’s a reflex. She can’t help it.

“And you said that I had a gift for words. I never understood why you would say that. How you could know...”

Lena chuckles awkwardly. “Looks like I was off the mark since you’ve just joined the Science Council.”

“But you weren’t.”

Lena’s breath hitches.

“I’ve never told anyone else this...”

Kara steps closer, sharing a secret that Lena doesn’t know she deserves to hear. She wonders if she still knows how to breathe with Kara being this close after so long...so many years gone...

“I started writing that day. That very night I went home and I tried it. I never stopped. I’ve never been happier than when I’m writing. Imagining stories or just writing my thoughts, putting memories into words, keeping a record of each day and what I’ve done, who I’ve seen, what my first thought is in the morning and my last thought at night. All of it.”

Kara was so close. She could smell her. Nothing like what she remembered. It was something altogether new and still...still... Lena’s heart beat so loudly, she was sure every Kryptonian within miles was wondering what that raucous drumming noise was. What must Kara think? Surely she could hear it. Lena was embarrassing herself.

“You inspired me.”

Lena doesn’t know how she manages it, but she somehow strings together coherent words.

“But you continued to pursue...”

“The Science Guild, yes. I’m very good there. It comes easily. It makes my family proud.”

“It’s not your passion though.”

Kara shakes her head gently.

“What stops you?”

“Well, what if I’m not really good at writing after all? I’ve never told anyone about it. I’ve never let them read anything... What if I make a terrible mistake and humiliate myself and my family?”

“Following your heart isn’t a mistake.”

“That’s not a very Kryptonian sentiment.”

“No, but it is a human one.” Lena sighs. “I tried so hard, for so long, not to listen to mine. But it won out every time. Despite all the pain it brought me...I remind myself that it’s what brought me here. To this planet. To this time. To do good. To be good. Following your heart is the most terrifying notion, but in my experience, it has also led me to the greatest moments of joy and love that I’ve ever known.”

Kara stares at her in wonderment. Her long blonde locks flow over her shoulders. Her dress is white and flowing, almost luminescent under the glow of the evening flowers blooming in the garden. It became quickly apparent how very alone they were, the last guests and servers from the party were gone. The torches were still lit, but it was their own world.

Wasn’t it always?

It’s not her.

“I don’t think I could be as brave as you.”

“You have always been brave and I know that you are capable of the most extraordinary amount of courage...courage and boundless hope. You are the one who inspires me, Kara. You always have.”

“Me?” She replies in the softest utterance. “But I haven’t done anything nearly as incredible as you.”

“The kind of person you are is far more important than any sum of career achievements. Don’t let fear make you hide in the shadows, Kara. Step into the sun. You’ve always belonged there.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“When will you step out of the shadows, Miss Luthor?”

A voice calls for Kara in the distance. It’s jarring and breaks the spell that seemed to lock them together in time suspended.

They step away, now acutely aware of how close they’d been this whole time.

Kara blushes and opens her mouth to say something, but Lena can’t bear to hear it.

“Goodnight, Kara Zor-El. I hope you enjoyed your party.”

Another voice joins the first. Two people are calling for her now. Kara seems frustrated and turns back, yelling to them that she’d be there soon.

She turns back. “I—“

But Lena’s gone.

She leaves New Krypton again. Journeys to other planets under the guise of a holiday and scientific exploration. She wonders if now is the time to return to Earth. She can’t even call it home anymore, but it’s home...isn’t it? 45 years could be enough to make New Krypton home and maybe it was. Maybe it was more of a home than Earth. But New Krypton had spectres walking among the living. Lena’s past had caught up to her here as well. She was no longer alone. Would Earth be any better with a reminder at every street corner? A certain smell. A park bench. A pair of glasses. Food. All of the food on Earth. She would never truly escape there either. It has to be a different planet. Not New Krypton, not Earth, something else entirely.

She searches across galaxies for it. Finally, one appeals to her. She can see herself settling down there. She can make a new life for herself...again. She returns to Krypton with determination. She resigns from her position, ignores the High Council’s pleas, ignores their more pointed demands, and even their attempted orders when it appeared that nothing else was working. She packs her things and bids farewell to her friends. They’ll visit now and again, but soon she won’t be seeing them at all. It doesn’t bother her all that much. She’d find replacements eventually. No one had ever been like... Well, she’d never let anyone get close enough to try.

She was walking out of her building for the last time, her luggage already sent ahead, and was headed to the transport when she heard her voice again on the wind, calling her name. Of course she would hear her now. This was exactly why she needed to leave this place. The sooner the better to end this torment.

The transport doors were nearly closed when a hand shot between them. The metal alloys were crushed in a powerful grip and the doors were jerkily pried open again.

Kara stood in front of her. Her hair windswept, almost what it used to look like when she would fly to Lena at breaking speed to rescue her. Did she fly here? Was she really here?

“Kara?”

“Lena, don’t go.”

“What are y—?”

“That’s government property!” someone shouts at Kara from further away.

A Kelex zooms in beside her. “And you were flying within city limits which is strictly prohibited. Unfortunately, Lady Kara, this means we must place you under arrest.”

A patrolman, the one who shouted, walks up behind Kara, nodding his head in agreement.

“Arrest?” She rolls her eyes at the Kelex and turns to the patrolman. “The doors were an accident and sorry about the flying thing. I’ll pay the fines. I doubt Alura In-Ze will take kindly to you dragging someone in for petty infarctions, let alone that someone being her daughter.”

Lena finds herself walking out of the transport, entirely of her own volition, and watches it leave without her. Kara is arguing with the patrolman over what her fines should be, but suddenly Lena feels someone take her hand. She looks down and sees that indeed there is another hand holding hers. She drags her gaze up to find those blue eyes again. A ghost. A spectre. Everything she was trying to escape.

“I’m sorry to just...burst in on you like this. But you’ve been gone for months and I only just heard that you’d come back, planning to leave New Krypton for good. I didn’t...”

“You didn’t what?”

“I don’t know.” Her brow furrows in frustration. “I didn’t plan this. I just...when I heard, I felt like I had to stop you.”

Lena pulls her hand away and crosses her arms. She needs to get ahold of herself. This was all so out of control.

“Why?”

Kara is just as bewildered as she is. “Well, I...I’m not sure. But we’ve only just started.”

“What?”

“Don’t you feel it? I know you must.”

She swallows thickly. “Kara, I...”

“I think there’s a lot you haven’t told me. A lot that I hope you will tell me. You promised me once that you would always be my friend. Please, Lena. We both know that this...it’s not supposed to end here.”

“When is it supposed to end?”

“I hope not for very long time.”

“I’ve lived a lifetime already.”

Kara grins. “Then what’s one more? Should be easy if you’ve already done it.”

Lena shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Somehow I do...and I don’t. I know it’s strange. I know what I sound like. But I think you understand. Don’t you?”

“Kara...”

“Are you hungry?” She interrupts. “I’m famished. The flying thing is really fun, but I always get so hungry after. How about it?”

“I’m supposed to be boarding a ship in 20 minutes.”

“We can eat fast!”

“I know you can eat fast, that’s not the point,” she mutters. “I have to go.”

“But you see? You say things like that. Like it’s normal to just know these things about me, but it’s not. How do you know? We’ve only met twice and both times it feels as though you know everything about me.”

“Everything?” She scoffs. “No. Never.”

“Well, the important things anyway.”

Lena falters.

“Please? Just...for a little while? There’s always another ship if you really must go.”

No.

No, I’ve been through this before. I saved you. I saved your people. You’re happy. I don’t belong here. I’ve never belonged. This is your world. I don’t belong anywhere. I did what was right. I helped people. I still help people. But I won’t do this again.

“I’m pretty sure you know that a Kryptonian can tell when you’re lying. The white star brought us untold abilities. And the longer I’ve lived here, under this new sun, I’ve discovered more abilities. Would you like to know about them?”

Lena can only stare.

“If I’m close enough...and I concentrate hard enough...I can feel what you’re feeling. It’s not mind reading exactly, but something deeper. I can feel you right now.” She swallows hard. “What have I done to cause you such pain, Lena? I never thought that... If you have to go, I won’t stop you. I just thought...” She sighs defeatedly. “I don’t know what I thought. But it wasn’t this. It wasn’t pain. Or anger. Or betrayal.”

Lena’s eyes widen at the same time as Kara’s. She seemed to realize it only as she spoke the word aloud.

“Betrayal?” Kara whispers, half to herself. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t! Tell me what’s happening. How can you be so angry with me, but also feel...like this...when we don’t even know each other?”

“But we do.”

At last she admits it.

In the quietest whisper.

“We did. Once. In another life.”

Kara nods slowly. “Where?”

“On Earth.”

“I’ve never been to Earth.”

“Not in this time. But in another...you were Earth’s Champion. Our Protector. The Paragon of Hope.”

“As you are the Protector of Krypton? Our Salvation. The New Dawn.”

Lena shrinks uncomfortably under the titles.

“Will you tell me more?”

“You believe me?”

“Of course I do. You’re Lena Luthor. Also, with my powers I can sense you’re telling the truth, so...” She shrugs lightly at that, a sheepish smile.

“Right. Well, I admit I’m still a bit resentful that after everything I’ve been through, I still didn’t get even a hint of those powers.”

Kara takes her hand again, tentatively this time. She probably thinks Lena will pull away.

She doesn’t.

“There’s been a rumor for ages that you’re immortal. Are you saying that’s not true? From what I’ve read, humans have a shorter life span than us. Your species only live about 85 years or so.”

“I’ve heard the rumor and, yes, the average human lifespan is shorter than a Kryptonian’s.”

“You look pretty darn good for your age if you’re preparing to join Rao in a few cycles.”

Lena has to laugh. She lets Kara lead her away from the platform and down to the street. They walk hand in hand.

“So you’re not immortal?”

“It remains to be seen.”

“Then maybe our white sun did give you a hint of something after all.”

“Maybe. I have yet to ascertain the cause.”

“I could help you with your study, should you choose to explore it further.”

“You want to study me?”

Kara blushes. “I...I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant—“

“I know what you meant.”

Silence falls between them.

“You’re still holding my hand.”

“You’re still letting me.”

“It’s strange.” She stares. “You’re different. You’re so different than you were before, a completely different person, but somehow...when I look at you, you’re exactly who you’ve always been.”

“Are you different now too?”

“Yes.” She shrugs. “I think so anyway.”

“But we’ve still found each other. That means something.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this? You might be angry with me. I...I made choices that changed your life. A great number of lives.”

“I want to hear everything. But even if I do get angry, I won’t leave. I promise.”

Lena starts at that. How could she know exactly—? The realization hits her.

“My fears...you feel them right now, don’t you?”

Kara nods. “I won’t betray you, Lena. Whatever mistakes I’ve made before...in that other life...I won’t make them again.”

“You’ll make other mistakes.”

“Of course!” She laughs. “I’m gifted, but hardly perfect. You’ll make mistakes too, even if you are the Great New Dawn.”

“Two prodigies...” Lena raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know how people stand us. We must be insufferable to be around.”

“I can’t be held accountable for the jealousy of others.”

Lena chuckles. “Good to know you’re as competitive as ever.”

“And you? Are you competitive as well?”

“On occasion...when it comes to the right things.”

Kara grins. “Tell me more about Earth.”

“Earth or...you on Earth?”

“Both. Or just one. Whatever you like. We have all the time we need. We’ll get to it eventually.”

“Kara?”

“Yes?”

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“Of losing you? Yes, I’m afraid. I thought I did when you left me in the Grove that night.”

“It’s different this time though.”

“Different how?”

“You were afraid before. O-on Earth. So you lied to me. Hid things from me. You were afraid I’d reject you.”

“So I lost you anyway?”

“For a while.”

“I know who I am and I want to share all of that with you. I’m afraid I’ll lose you if I don’t. Do you think that means I learned my lesson with a second chance?”

“Even though you don’t remember the first?”

Kara tilts her head thoughtfully. “Are you familiar with the theological concept of reincarnation?”

Lena nods.

“Many species and cultures detail it differently, but the belief that a soul does not reside in an afterlife fascinates me. The idea that one could instead be reborn and is destined to learn new lessons with each life that it failed to learn in the last. Maybe we found a way to do that without needing to die at all.”

“Are you sure you’re the First Order of the Science Council? Because that sounds an awful lot like preaching I’ve heard from the Religious Guild. You’re in the wrong profession.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “If anything, I should have joined the Artisans. But it’s too late for that.”

Lena’s quiet for a moment. They’re walking along streets she’s never seen before and doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.

“I think I’m learning...” she says softly, “that it’s never too late. If you want something enough, it’s never too late.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Lena looks around. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“No, I thought you did.”

“No. I guess we’re lost then.”

Kara shrugs with a charming, sunny smile that lights her whole face. It’s the one that Lena hasn’t seen in over 40 years and it takes her breath away.

“Oh well.” Kara squeezes Lena’s hand happily. “I suppose we’ll find our way together.”

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fic #supercorp fanfiction #dont read this #im sorry #it was a rambling stream of conscious moment

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spilled-some-blood · 4 years

Text

Dating The Slashers Include

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, John Kramer, Billy Loomis, Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Amanda Young, and Tiffany Valentine

Warning: Slight smut warning for Freddy (but are you shocked?), but mostly just fluff

Dating Bubba Would Include: -Starting off as probably best friends -laughing and walking around a lot together -becoming very close, somewhere in between friends and lovers -you making the first move -maybe by accident -you’d probably be talking to him and Choptop -“Why don’t you ask that guy out?” -“Because I like Bubba, remember.” -“You do?” -luckily, he likes you too -going on a first date -it not being awkward at all -if you go out on the town, you end with a hot cup of tea and new clothes, wanting to get him out of the blood covered apron -back at home, laughing and hand holding, forgetting it was actually a date -you end with a soft kiss -both of you blushing madly -the two of you will sit on a sofa and Bubba mumbles about anything -being the last ones awake -Bubba falling asleep on your shoulder -you are smiling -you also falling asleep, not wanting to wake him up -the next morning, you greet with a kiss, as if it has been done a hundred times already -every night, before bed, cuddling on the sofa and cuddling together -searching for Choptop with him -just to please him -always being amazed at how smart he is even though he can’t talk -he knows everything about you -just on his own way -stroking his hair in a calming manner -always holding hands -quick kisses -favourite place is his room, where you can sit close and lay your head in his lap while in a puddle of happiness -spending holidays with each other -one time by him, one time with you -just being cute together -always thinking of each other -general love and sweetness

Dating John Would Include: -Reading books together in the living room with a blanket draped over you. -Laying your legs on top of his whilst attentively looking over the pages. -Him playfully starting to trace patterns on the bottom of your feet, fully knowing that you’re the most ticklish person ever. -It eventually became a full-on tickle fight. -But when you’re starting to scream for mercy he’ll stop so you can breathe again. -Making traps together as well. -Him giving you tight hugs every time you remind him you love him. -Snuggling into his jigsaw robe. -It kind of smelling like him. -He gives you neck kisses and collarbone kisses and doesn’t matter what kind of kisses… -Cause they’re loving and soft and gentle just like him around you. -He looks at you with sleepy puppy eyes and it melts you every. single. time. -Over all, he is so very happy about being with you. -Because you’re kind and amazing and loving towards him, and he can’t quite understand what you see in him. -But you make sure to remember him, very often, that he’s just as lovable as you. -And he will never appreciate someone more than his beautiful girlfriend/boyfriend.

Dating Billy Would Include: -Him coming up with pick up lines and always strolling up to you casually, looking you up and down, as he bites his lip and says something stupid -Billy dragging you to see a movie he loves -Going to see it with him but him smiling the entire time -Acting up together -You're concentrating on something and he'd look at you and forget to breathe -Nose kisses -Neck kisses -Changing study locations due to the seasons/weather -Quiet 'I love you's' -Cheek kisses -Trips to the kitchen to bring a worrying amount of sweets back to the room -Stu forcing you to share -Having a competition to see who can scream 'I Love You' the loudest -Having a very public relationship -Seeing each other across the hall or corridor and running dramatically into each other's arms and hugging -Stu would tell you off but you could see a twinkle of laughter in his eyes at your escapades -Sudden passionate kisses when you realise you’re alone -'It's been 1 day, 5 hours, 12 minutes and 6 seconds since I’ve seen you' -Comforting him when his dad hurts him -Stu always laughing when he sees him zone out because he's thinking of you -Spending most of your time together -Your family loving him instantly -Warm, comforting hugs to keep each other stable -Sitting in peace, tracing patterns on each other's skin -Having a very goofy relationship -You almost never stop laughing -Cuddling almost constantly -Whispering 'I love you' against your neck as he places soft kisses against it -Playing with his hair -Being the 'It' Couple -Braiding his hair even though it's short so it ends up being multiple little random braids in his hair -Him laying his head on your lap -His HAIR -Soft sighs falling from his lips as you lightly scratch his scalp -Him putting his cold feet on you when you're in bed -You shrieking and kicking him off -Wearing his Ghostface outfit -Double dates with Stu and his dates -You brushing his hair -Him attempting to brush yours -Watching the stars -Lazy days cuddling on the couch -Playing with his hair. A LOT -Putting flowers in his hair -Just loving his hair -"Sometimes I think you're only dating me for my hair" -"I am"

Dating Michael Would Include: -Him being extremely protective over you -No one daring to pick on you because of this -Shy smiles and glances -Believing in him -Him opening up to you and showing you his kind vulnerable side -Sharing secret kisses -Getting unexpected gifts -Him smiling when he sees you wearing his stuff especially his jumpsuit -You bring out the better side of him -Sitting by the couch and leaning on each other -Teaching him out to act out rationally, not on anger -Holding hands in public with your hands locked tightly by your sides -Him getting jealous of other guys and you teasing him about it -You being the big spoon because even though he acts really proud, he likes to be held at night -Sneaking around a lot -Midnight rendezvous -Neck kisses -Him calling you stupid nicknames to annoy you -"How are you, my sugar-drop?" -You hit him on the shoulder and him acting as if it didn't hurt but oh my god it does so much -Lazy Sunday mornings where you just sleep the day away -You wrap your arms around him from behind and hugging him tightly -Waking up to him tracing patterns on your skin with light fingers -Always trusting you with absolutely everything -Lots of giggles -Midnight dates -Deep talks in the middle of the night, either in bed or over anything. Him always playing with your hair -Him always being able to be himself with you -Suggestive grins during class -Sending animal-shaped notes to each other -Him being a perfectionist -So much sarcasm -Him laughing at you when you won't admit that you're a bit jealous of all the female and male attention he receives -You hiding his stuff to tease him -But him not being able to be upset with you -Arguments about minor things but both of you not meaning it seriously -Stolen kisses -Lots and lots of neck kisses -Sneaking into each other's homes -Back rubs -Cuddles

Dating Freddy Would Include: -Sometimes starting conversations but loving the silence of the moment. -At night he never lets you roam around without him. -After he tells you about how everyone hate him, understanding why. -But still doing after and it becomes a thing for you. -Starting to let you in more about his plans. -But carefully -Loving (ssshhh) your curious side and how you wanted to know more about all his slasher friends. -"So If that's the most painful place for a man where is it for a woman?" -"Well aren't you a curious little thing dear." -The other slashers not minding you. -He obviously had told them not to harm you. -You getting along with Chucky after you get to know each other a little more. -"Okay, now I know why he is your favourite. He is really interesting under his arrogance and big ego," you say and Freddy smirks. -"Hey, I heard that f-! " *Freddy looking disapprovingly* "......lovable normie" -Taking a stroll with him in the nightmare realm. -Gripping his hand tightly. -Playing it cool but when a bird scares you, you scream and fall into his arms. -"You know this is kinda ironic right? I can probably harm you more than anything in this forest. " -"Oh hush! " you say. -Kisses in secret places. -(Getting closer sentimentally to you.) -Seeing him battle and win his opponent is a total turn on (Sorry not sorry) -Mostly rough sex -Like taking his time with you -Slowly approaching the pain-pleasure subject especially after he founds out that you like spanking and choking (sorry not sorry again). -Blowjobs for sure. -Like when he is feeling pissed and generally needs to feel like a powerful man you are right there. -You feeling sometimes that he might not do some things because he might not think you are good enough -But he kissed you to shut you up -Talking back to him one day while going to hang out with Bubba and Jason. -Telling him not to blame the others. -Pinning you to the wall. -"Listen to me, dear. You don't tell me what to do. Also, someone has to be blamed." his hands lowering to your waist and leans to your ear. " You have to get used to it love if you want to be with me." his hands slowly trailing up your thighs. "So now shut your pretty mouth because it's not going change anything," he says smirking to you now caressing you. -Sighing and accepting that there is nothing that you can do. Kissing him while he leads you to your room too pissed to be around anywhere now.

Dating Stu Would Include: (Oh look, it’s two Scream imagines)

-where do I even start? He’s a kinky rat, everything to him is a kink -him falling completely in love with you, and never want to see you hurt in any way, especially by himself -he’d spoil the shit out of you -and he’d protect you to death -people would know not to touch you, those who have tried disappear -he’d take you shopping with full security -he’d be the guy waiting outside the change room to tell you how gorgeous and sexy you are when you come out -his hands go anywhere they want to, that’s just him. So if you wear a dress, you can guess where his hands are going -he’s the guy with his arm over your shoulders when you walk -very possessive -rough and VERY kinky sex lets are honest -but he spoils the shit out of you. wait I legitimately already wrote that but it's so true. -he’d love when you sit on his lap -especially with nothing on or in his room ;) -it throws other slashers off because they know to respect you and not look at you too long or Stu will flip and stab them -he’s the guy that can growl that sexy growl when he’s angry -but purr that sexy purr when he’s happy -you like both sounds. so sexy -he’d take you to the most expensive places and buy you the most expensive outfits and jewellery, although some of the outfits can’t even be called outfits ;) -date night is the best -ride or die. -him driving you places and speeding to make you laugh and scream. -rough ‘you’re mine’ kind of kisses -but the way he grips your waist when he kisses you is 100% -I mean, I wouldn't say he would be the best boyfriend, but it would be an experience

Dating Amanda Would Include: (Oh look, another Saw imagine) -Looking out for each other -Playing with her hands -Her being a real getlewoman -Her getting embarrassed and flustered when people ask her how she managed to get an 'an amazing person like you' -You tell her you're the lucky one to have a girl like her -Her getting clumsier when you make her nervous -Smiling when you notice Amanda getting more comfortable in your relationship -Opening up to each other -Meeting John and him adoring you -Her telling you all about her favourite fictional characters and how the pretty ones remind her of you -Her getting you the 'pretty’ characters toys as a gift -Lots of hugs -Her watching you talk, write or anything else -Blushing furiously when you catch her staring -Quick pecks in public at first -Watching anything together while cuddling -Her depending on your emotional support a lot -Light touches -Teasing each other -Amanda going on and on about basically anything and you just listening because you like seeing her happy -Picking a single flower and placing it in your hair -Sweet cheek kisses just whenever -Catching her looking at you and looking down and catching her eye and blushing furiously -Sitting by the lake and doing your work -Helping her out with her rehab sessions -Always standing up for her and vice versa -Spending a lot of time in her room just talking to her -Her heart fluttering all the time when you're around -Warm hugs where neither of you wants to let go -Helping him overcome her drug addiction -Comforting her when she feels useless -Gentle kisses -You aren’t a fan of a few a things she likes but you still listen because the excitement in her voice when she talks about it is so freaking adorable! -Cute nicknames -Spending entire days together -Letting Amanda play with your hair -So many inside jokes -Falling asleep under the stars -Food fights -Reminding her about what she's forgotten -Piggyback rides

Dating Tiffany Would Include: (You already know I freaking love Tiffany so you know this will be a long one) -God, she’s so fucking dramatic. -There would be multiple public declarations of love a week, without a doubt. -Crybaby™ -You’ll be goofing around together and say something jokingly rude, like how annoying she is, or some shit like that -And she’ll just deflate -She’ll start pouting, and a small crease between her eyebrows will appear -So, of course, you feel bad -So you’d take her face between your hands, and just start placing little kisses all over her face -On the cheeks, the nose, the forehead (if you can reach, that is) -After a minute you stop, looking Tiffany in the eyes at last after brushing her curls behind her ears -And they’re just filled with amusement, and she also has a shit-eating grin on her lips -She’d trick you into giving her extra affection because she’s a whiny little baby she loves you so much -So you smack her across the head -After a while, this little trick wouldn’t work, so she’d start finding other ways of getting what she wants -It’s not that you don’t show her enough love, it’s just that she needs excessive amounts -Because Tiffany never does anything halfway -It’s all or nothing -And with her, it’s often all. -She’d always show you off as ‘her girl’ and literally never shut up about you -And at first, people found it cute, because ‘aw, look how in love they are!’ -But now everybody just wants to put duct tape over her mouth -(they all still find you two cute, but, God, does Tiffany ramble) -You’re constantly talking about the future. -“What’d you think our wedding will look like?” -“How many children do you want?” -Pranks. So. Many. Pranks. -You turn it into your own little competition to see who can get the other better. -This was fun until the paranoia set in. -“Why are you looking at me like that..?” -“Because I love you.” -“Tiff….” -“Mmm.” -“What have you done?” -*Cue you chasing her down the house whilst screaming profanities, both of you laughing as you do so* -Her taking you on adventures around the town -She would teach you how to be a sassy bitch -Or, if you already knew how you’d have small games together. -Just you two, one-on-one. -You’d either: A) kick her ass, and she’d insist that she let you win, or B) be so damn terrible, but look so adorable trying that she would let you win - although she’d never make a joke about it, she’d support you and help you get better. -Throwing stuff to each other while the slashers are arguing. -Her aiming the paper so it hits your head, so you decide to make her get in trouble with Freddy -Mean Girls puns. -“You dropped your coffee? Get in, bitch, we’re getting more” -“How dare you!” -Tiffany laughing because of how terrible the jokes are. -Also, just horrible jokes in general. The type that makes you cringe, but also giggles. -Her being so open with you. -This girl will literally share anything with you. No fuss, at all. -She believes that trust is the foundation of every relationship, so why should she keep secrets? -She has so much faith in you, so the thought of you ever telling anyone something private has never even crossed her mind. -She hates it when you’re sad. -It physically pains her to know that you’re hurting. -So she’ll do everything she can to make you happy again. -Want to cry it out? She’ll hold you, murmuring words of comfort as she does so. -Feel like eating away from your problems? She’ll take you down to the kitchen so you can both have as much food as you want. -Just need to let it all out? She’ll take you by the hand and walk you down the lake so you can throw stones into the water. Or she’ll just take you up to the bedroom so you can scream into a pillow until your voice stops working. -Constant physical contact. -Even if it’s just holding hands, or feeling your shoulder brush against her: she likes to know that you’re there, and you’re safe. -Because in such a short amount of time, you’d become so important to her. -And she couldn’t bear to live without you by her side.

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Note

oh beloved writer can you please write a christmas date imagine for will poulter (even though it’s still summer) just pure fluff, where the reader and will go out to like a diner and then go buy a tree for their apartment (it’s their first christmas living together) and set it up and dance to christmas music and it’s super domestic and soft and fluffy thank you bff

Of course, my love! And hey, if Christmas in July can be a thing, so can Christmas in August. And oh boy, I made this one so sweet you might get cavities, so just, beware of that.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were excited, to put it lightly. This was the first Christmas you and you partner, Will, would be having while living together. You knew it was cheesy, but you wanted it to feel special.

You made reservations at this really fancy restaurant in the fanciest part of town. A bit over the top on your part, but you wanted to make this Christmas one to remember fondly.

You still haven't gotten a tree yet, so that was on your to-do list as well. You hoped there would be some nice trees to choose from.

Some people would've probably thought you were going mad with how much you wanted everything to be perfect, and yeah, you kind of were. But you completely ignored your logic and reasoning.

You bought a really nice outfit for yourself to wear to the restaurant, Christmassy but not too Christmassy, you weren't wearing reindeer antlers or red and green bells. It was simple, may or may not to somewhat match Will's outfit that he was going to wear.

With Will's hand in yours, you walked to your car and headed to the restaurant and got there a few minutes early, which was historical for you. You smiled along with Will as you entered the warm building, a pleasant contrast from the winter cold outside. "Hi! Reservation for L/n?" You asked bubbly, the evening already going so well that you were sure nothing could dampen your spirits.

It took a minute for the hostess to check, as the place was fairly busy due to the holidays. "Um, I'm sorry, I don't see your name here."

You immediately tensed, a half a second of anger bolting through you before you simply smiled understandingly. "Can you double check, please? I'm certain it's there, I called this in a week ago." You chuckled nervously.

"I'm sorry, but there is no reservation under L/n."

Your smiled dropped, your eye involuntarily twitching a couple times before your cleared your throat. "That...that can't be right."

Will turned to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. It happens. We can just go somewhere else." He smiled softly. You frowned in response, turning back to the hostess with pleading eyes, only to get a tight lipped smile as another apology.

You hung your head for a second, before walking out of the building at a quick pace, dead silent as you sat back in your car. Will cautiously got into the car, anxiously anticipating your eventual release of your frustration.

"What the fuck?!" You yelled into your steering wheel, causing Will to jump at the sudden outburst, even when he was expecting it. "I booked that table a week ago! Will, you were right next to me when I called the place!" You pleaded to no one, feeling defeated and pissed off. "Ugh..." You drawled out, collapsing against your seat.

Will couldn't help but chuckle at your cute pouting face, reaching over to gently massage your thigh. "It's okay, darling! This is just a minor setback. I'm sure there are other places we can go."

Yes, there were other places you could go, none of them fancy restaurants. You felt even more defeated when you had to settle for some fast food place. This is absolutely not how you wanted this evening to go.

You stared down at your burger and fries with distain. "This should be an overpriced steak at an overpriced fancy restaurant with live music, arrogant chefs and overly nice waiters who wear really fancy suits and ties." You mumbled.

Will raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound quite as nice as being in an almost empty fast food place with no one to bother us. And I quite like my food, I haven't found a single hair in it, so it's practically 5-star."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled at his silliness. "At least we still get to pick out a Christmas tree, that should be fun."

"Hopefully we won't get hypothermia out in this weather. So, what type of tree are you thinking we get?"

You smiled dreamily. "I've always wanted a full, thick Frasier fir."

"Ambitious. A Frasier fir it is."

It might've been a bit too ambitious, because when you got to one of the only places in town that sold Christmas trees, there were no such trees in sight. They had all been sold out apparently. No worry, there would probably be one at another place. Nope, none there. So, you drove to the last place in town and lo and behold, no thick firs in sight.

"I think the world's against me."

Will trapped you in a hug from behind as you stood dumbfounded at the selection of trees available. Some of them could give Charlie Brown's Christmas tree a run for its money.

"What about that one?" Will pointed towards the corner of the small field you two stood in.

You laughed when you finally saw what he was looking at. The tree was a fir, but it looked so bare that you could call it a Charlie Brown tree. "You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious." He smirked, letting you go to jog eagerly to the pitiful looking tree. You chuckled sadly as he held onto it, the thing wasn't even as tall as Will, and even skinnier. "Ain't it a beauty?" He said in a slightly Australian accent, almost cringing at himself.

No.

"I guess."

The look of pure childlike joy on Will's face, you couldn't deny him that stupid tree. It was so small, you could probably fit it in your car, but you didn't want to clean up all the needles it would shed. It fastened to the roof of your car easily, too easily.

By the time you had set it up in your living room with Will, the tree kind of grew on you; it was like an ugly dog, so ugly it was cute, you supposed. Once it had all the decorations on, it didn't look too bad, but it still wasn't what you hoped for. It seemed this whole day you planned out to the T, nothing went the way you wanted it to, and that was a bit disheartening. What annoyed you, surprisingly, was Will's overwhelming optimism. Usually, it was endearing, but today was not one of those days where you needed optimism.

"You okay, Y/n?" Will asked intuitively.

"It's just...this day went to shit. How can you be so...perfect?"

Will blushed at your phrasing, but he knew what you meant. "I was annoyed with certain things today, the restaurant issues, for sure. But, it wasn't enough to put me in a bad mood all day. I chose to let it go so that we could have a good time, that's all."

You frowned, suddenly feeling really guilty. "I was in such a bad mood all day." You huffed, taking a seat on your couch. "I ruined this whole day..."

"No!" Will rushed over to you. "I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"I know, but you're right. I shouldn't have acted like such a child. I'm sorry."

Will smiled sadly. "Darling, you certainly did not ruin anything. None of this was your fault and you behaved how any normal person would. But even after all that happened, I still had an amazing time. We had a nice, quiet dinner. And we got our own little Charlie Brown tree." He chuckled. "Didn't you have a nice time too?"

You smiled sheepishly. "I did."

"We don't have to go to the fanciest restaurant or buy the nicest Christmas tree to have a nice time together. We could've stayed inside all day and I wouldn't have cared, just being here with you is what makes me the happiest."

You couldn't help but lean forwards to kiss him, so incredibly grateful that he was in your life. "Well, I'd say our first Christmas will be one to remember."

"Oh, it's not over yet." He added, causing you to furrow your brows in curiosity. He only winked as he walked to the other side of the room, fiddling with the record player.

"No..." You groaned playfully as Last Christmas by Wham! echoed through your apartment.

Will nodded, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "Oh yeah, come on." He held out his hand to you, motioning for you to take it. You giggled as he started to lip sync the lyrics, shimmying his shoulders as he still waiting for you to take his hand.

"Oh my god." You blushed, finally taking his hand and him instantly pulling you up and grabbing you by the waist to pull you into a hug, violently swaying to the music. "Will!" You laughed uncontrollably.

"What? You don't like my dance moves?" He grinned.

"You're gonna break me if you keep doing that." You grinned back.

Will shook his head, toning down the fast swaying and settled into a relaxing sway, looking into your eyes fondly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You blushed, resting your head and hiding your face on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat much better music than any Christmas song you've ever listened to.

~~~~~~~~~~

bruh...this...was so fluffy I almost died. I hope me almost dying of fluffiness was worth it to you, @poulterfilms

#will poulter #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader

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hallowxiu · 3 years

Text

Leviathan’s Valentine

pairing: leviathan x gn!mc

word count: 1.8k

summary: It's Leviathan's turn for your Valentine Gift, but sudden self-doubt makes things a little complicated for you.

a/n: part two of the valentine’s series

part one

“I heard your gift with Mammon was a hit.” You look up from your desk to see Asmodeus leaning against your doorframe. “He keeps walking around with the plush you made him. He won’t stop bragging about it, either.” There was amusement on his features, though he sounded slightly agitated as well. “It’s kind of fun to watch, although Leviathan almost summoned Lotan he got so jealous. I almost broke out in the process.”

“What? Really?” You turn yourself around completely so that you’re facing him.

“Yes, I almost broke out. It is shocking to think about; I understand.”

“Geez, Lucifer’s going to ban Valentine’s Day gifts at this point.” To think he could ban it so early, and before you even passed out the second gift. “They’re too much sometimes.” You sigh and slouch into your chair. “I told Leviathan I was making him a gift as well, you know.”

“Did you even hear me?”

“Yes, Levi almost summoned Lotan. I hope Lucifer wasn’t too mad.”

“My love, you’re missing the important part here.”

“Well, I should get back to work, Asmo. Levi might become angry again if I waste too much time.” You get back to sewing together the plush for Leviathan, listening as Asmodeus exits your bedroom with a quiet huff. It’s been almost two days since you gave Mammon his stuffed cat. You didn’t mean to take so long with Leviathan’s gift, but you wanted it to be perfect. You knew that Leviathan could be a bit of a critic when it came to plushies, and it didn’t help that you had started over three times in the last thirty-five hours. It felt like you were messing up the little things, and if they kept adding up then his gift would look horrible.

You run a hand over your face and look back down at the half-made plush. The bright orange fabric was driving you insane. If you had to look at it for much longer, you might end up gauging your eyes out. “Why was Mammon’s so easy to make?” You whine into your hands. “And why is Levi’s so hard?” Besides starting over so many times, you had also changed his gift a few times as well. Originally you wanted to design some sort of Ruri-chan doll for him, but you quickly discovered that was a little too… complicated for you. You also realized that creating a Ruri-chan plush left absolutely no room for error, and you didn’t feel like having Leviathan roast you for the rest of your life. The second idea was to design one of the TSL characters, but for the same reason as Ruri-chan, you quickly ditched that idea.

You briefly considered ditching the plush idea altogether and getting him something else. However, you didn’t even know where to start looking. Leviathan had almost every Ruri-chan collectible in existence, and if he didn’t, you couldn’t afford it. You thought about picking up some manga series in the human realm for him, but then you considered that might be too predictable for him. After all, you wanted something unique for him. In all honesty, the more you thought about it, the more terrified you were when it came to getting gifts for the brothers. They all had high standards, and you weren’t sure you could reach them. However, now that you already gave Mammon something, word would spread (mostly due to Mammon’s big mouth) and the others would soon expect something as well. You could already imagine all the fights that would break out between them if you started and stopped with him.

“I should have stuck with cards and candy.” You rub at your temples in frustration. “Now everyone’s going to expect these amazing presents.”

With an annoyed huff, you back your chair away from your desk. You were unhappy, and most of all embarrassed. Embarrassed for the gift that you haven’t even given to Leviathan yet. That didn’t matter though, because your mind kept replaying images of Leviathan laughing at the plush you made him. It made a lump in your throat form, and your eyes blurred with unshed tears. It was silly, and maybe you were tired from working on this for the last two days straight, but you were upset. You were more than upset; you were disappointed with yourself on how this was coming out. Although you had finished his gift only an hour or two ago, you were still unhappy with it.

To you, there was nothing cute about it. It was something that laid on your desk, taunting you. You let out an annoyed groan and threw yourself onto your bed. “I should stop putting this off.” You force yourself to sit up, glancing back over at the plush on your desk. “I’ll just apologize to him for how it came out. If he doesn’t like it I can offer to make him another one.” With a final sigh, you push yourself off the bed, grab the plush, and head out the door.

Unlike with Mammon, you couldn’t have Leviathan open the door fast enough. You’re knocking on the wood as soon as you’re in front of his door, just wanting to get this over with. It would be humiliating, but you could get past this. You could make him another plush if he hated it that much, or you could just buy him something he asks for. Still, wanting at least some element of surprise, you hide the gift behind your back. There’s an anxious smile plastered on your face when the door opens. While normally Leviathan would push you for a password, you figured he was too excited for his gift to press such things today.

“I was hoping to see you.” He can barely contain his excitement as he addresses you and lets you in. You follow in behind him quietly, rocking on the heels of your feet as he turns to face you once his door is closed. “I’m glad you came. Mammon was starting to drive me a little crazy and you’re always a good distraction.”

“Haha, yeah… about that.”

Leviathan looks at you with a confused expression when noting your increasing anxiety. “What’s wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He pulls at the sleeves of his jacket, a timid look on his face. “I always thought this day might come, but I didn’t think it’d come so soon.”

“What? No, no you aren’t making me uncomfortable, Levi.” It seems to barely convince him, though you see some tension leave his body. Now if only you could do the same. “I just,” you inhale sharply, “I brought you your Valentine’s gift.” You see him light up in excitement, his cheeks glowing red as he happily shifts in his spot in front of you.

“You really got me a gift? I’m not going to lie, I always thought Valentine’s Day was a stupid holiday humans celebrated, but when you told me you wanted to get me something, I thought maybe it wasn’t that bad after all. Usually, no one wants to spend a holiday like that with a stupid otaku like me.”

“You’re not,” your breath hitches and you can feel your eyes water again, “I don’t think--” Crap. You wanted this to be a good holiday for him, but how could he enjoy it when you couldn’t even make him a proper gift? You shouldn’t have told him in advance that you’d make him something. His hopes were up and you were only going to cut them down. You hear Leviathan call out to you, his voice full of concern. It’s at that moment that you realize warm tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Are you crying?” Leviathan’s on you in seconds as he tries to assess the situation. “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He’s frantically wiping your tears away with shaking hands. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Please don’t be upset with me. I promise I won’t do it again.” You needed to pull yourself together before you caused the demon to have a panic attack. The last thing you wanted was for him to think he did something to you.

“You didn’t do anything.” You let him wipe the tears from your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin as he gazes down at you. “I just-- I just don’t want to ruin Valentine’s Day for you.” Your lip trembles as you speak and Leviathan’s concerned expression is replaced with one of confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y-Your gift.” You answer weakly and more tears threaten to spill.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I just-- I couldn’t-- here.” You decide it would be better for him to see himself instead of listening to you fumble and trip over your words. You reveal the plush to Leviathan, handing it to the blue-haired demon. He slowly takes it from you, gazing at it curiously and glancing over at you.

“I don’t understand.” He finally says. You feel your heart sink in your chest.

“It’s supposed to be--”

“No, I know what it is.” There’s a smile on his lips as he brings the plush to his chest, hugging it tightly. “It’s my goldfish, Henry. I think he came out beautifully. Why are you so upset over it? It looks just like him.” There’s a pink tint to his cheeks as he looks at you. “I’ve always wanted a plush of him.” You stare at him in shock, unable to form a sentence. “I love it, and I’m sure Henry will too.”

“You like it?” You’re staring at him with wide and watery eyes. The possibility of Leviathan liking your gift never even occurred to you. “You don’t think it’s ugly?”

“Ugly? Why would I think it’s ugly? You made this for me, and you made it after something that I hold close to my heart.” He shyly looks away from you as he grips the plushie tighter. “I would cherish anything you gave me. You spent time on this for me and me alone. That within itself is a precious gift to me.” His face is growing red again as he continues. “No one’s ever spent so much time on someone like me before. It’s hard to wrap my head around sometimes, but it makes me really happy.” He glances over at you once again. “Please don’t cry because of me. Seeing you so upset makes me upset too.” You feel your heart flutter at his words and you shyly glance down at your feet. “Thank you. This is the best Valentine’s Day I could have ever asked for.”

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween. What he loves more than that? You.

pairing. gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating. idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded. it’s just that fluffy. (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings. established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower.

wc. 9.7k

beta reader(s). the lovely @kerikaaria read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy. tysm! 💛 i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly. oops...

author note. this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves. while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside. i hope you enjoy it!

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened. You remember, faintly, the mention of a party. Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc. He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought. If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway. Win-win or whatever.

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge. Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean.

“Zarya’s one! Zarya’s one—“ You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen. You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too. There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch. “Zarya’s actually one!”

No one cares. She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map.

“Jesus—“ Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue. You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.

I need healing! I need healing!

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though. There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point. Stupid. You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support.

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked. So infuriating and yet— nope. Just infuriating.

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise. Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise. He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face. You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru. He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team. A silver lining, you suppose.

Your second round starts well enough. Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta. Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana. You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn. Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost. (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado. The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong. Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter.

“You winning?”

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction. You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.

(It’s not your own fault. He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!” You want to be more mad. Really, you do. You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long. Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn.

“What?” Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime.

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves. All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder. You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days. You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery.

It’s a little distracting; he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual. You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck. Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see; it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over. You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication. (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.)

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so. You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words).

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet.

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya? She has grav.” Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon. Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock. If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game.

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void. Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces. Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next. Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,” says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head. He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match. It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.

“Rip is right,” you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map. If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms. Jungkook chuckles at that.

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well. There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested. Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”

You don’t turn your head. Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you. Sometimes, you love it; other times, you hate it. Most times, though, he’s right. He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame).

“Can we go top left?” You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main. Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team. Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited. “You should be back right by the stairs. You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point. Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav. She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you. As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen.

“Told you,” he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore.

“I was going to say thank you.” Just not right now. You can’t multitask quite like he can.

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display. “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock. Thank freaking god. You can win this, you think. Easy. No problem.

“Go Ana on defense.” At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth. You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin.

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time. He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat.

“Do you just want to play?” You don’t mean it seriously. You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you. It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship.

“Nah, I’m snacking.” He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon.

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions. He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do. He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do. He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t.

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair. You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears.

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game. There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back.

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie. “We won,” you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug.

“Of course you did.” He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you. He’d been a great coach.

“What’re you doing here?” It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest. He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair. (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines. You don’t care.)

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.” You remember, because you’d been disappointed. Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,” he states, like he’s talking to a moron. You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen. Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena. It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it.

“Yeah, we,” Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker. “Halloween party, baby. Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises: (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party? You didn’t think idols had those. Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no. Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.” It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach. It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day.

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face. It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way. Why’s he looking at you like that? Why’s your memory so bad? Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions?

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance. It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage. A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns.

“I— don’t remember that.” You’re lying through your damn teeth. Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass.

“But you did!” He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal. It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me! You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate.

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here. It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia. “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular. You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish.

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs. (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs. You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.) It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing. The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames. Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them; Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.

“I don’t think I can pull this off,” you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious. (You were, once. Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.)

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places. Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest. You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it. (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention. Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you. You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp. A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue. “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance. It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway. “You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I don’t have to say anything,” he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten. It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot. It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart. “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then. He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened. He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom. How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure. All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up; yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug. You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson. They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay— that was scary. I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.” A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees. It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?” You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there. He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms; he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh. His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised; Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer. (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.” Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end. It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature. You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee. Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact. A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious. You look—” You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose. A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon. “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it. Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders. You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!” You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself. All part of his plan, you suppose. “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.

“Okay! Sorry!” Except he doesn’t look very sorry. More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you. You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie. You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment. (Not that you really mind.)

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip. It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting. Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks. It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love.

Today, it comes after the fourth count.

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.” Well, of course you will. As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas. It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams.

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times. “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins. It’s unfairly adorable. Still, you push. Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you. From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted.

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot. You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum. A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to. You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you; rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.” By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful. The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday.

It turns out to be the opposite: one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend. He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger. You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another. For tonight, they’re one and the same.

“Joker? Seriously?” You can’t hide the delight. It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction. Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask. “Don’t sound so excited.” It’s an actual concern of his. He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more. He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting.

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky. You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises. It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently. You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared; you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.” You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes. It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes. It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling. Bastard. “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker. You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter. He’s dressed this way because you like the character.

“Oh,” you say, because there’s not much more to say. Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it.

“Yeah,” he parrots back, a little smug.

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life. He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set. You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better. (You suppose he is.)

“Angel, come here!” He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side. Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love. There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball. You don’t mind. You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.

“I’m winning,” he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh. Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst. Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.” You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element. He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some. It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is). “How many games have you won?” Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.” God, his ego. You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best. Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck. He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you. To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.

“Can we play?” Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks. You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs. Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend. (How fitting.) “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch. “No, you’re just bad at games!” He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes. Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink. In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus. (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?) You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily. Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.” And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond. He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life.

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”

“Ahhhhhh, stop!” It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own. Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads. “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!” You know it isn’t true. Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines). But together? It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.

You absolutely loved it.

“Sure, sure,” the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot. One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins. A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour. You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one. Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour. “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.

“Drink this!”

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?” You’re incredulous. Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl. It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless. Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!” The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too. “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy? It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?).

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it. Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body. “Don’t die!” He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”

“No, you’re fine.” He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up. You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement. “Your face, oh— Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane. You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together. It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor. Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms. You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?” It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies. He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile. “What’re you doing down there?”

“Just hanging out,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft. A modern day olive branch. “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close. Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like. It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like. Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away. You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness. “You sound drunk, angel,” he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek. It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin. It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves. “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,” comes Jimin from beside you. There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment. It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him. He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation. When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case. “Want to head home?”

You do. You really, really do.

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are. Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—” There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet. “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway. “Sorry,” you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused. It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.” He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh. Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away. “Here, let me.”

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time. (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,” you tease, clinging to him like a koala. You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven. “Or are you the court jester? That’s what Joker is, right?” It’s a joke and a bad one at that. Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.

“You’re drunk.” He says it more kindly than you expect. Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve. You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded. There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare. It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought. You have to tell him. Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it. “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down. As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands. (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.) “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?” You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon. You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.” It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that. You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style. You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression. “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does. You pout, as you so often do.

“Okay,” you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder. You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings. “Will you wash my hair?” You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.” Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck. When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips. You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat. Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.” As if that’s meant to stop you. He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention. He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,” you mumble into the expanse of his chest. He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable. You think you could live in the feeling of his arms. (You’re lucky you get to.) You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most. “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation. You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless. It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.

He’d explained it to you once. Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first. Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t. JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm. Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that. You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.” You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon. You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure. “Gotta get undressed to shower,” he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises? It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care. Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow. You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep. He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle. His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck. You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight. You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits. There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.” The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“We are, angel,” Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back. It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame. “Just need to get you warmed up first.”

“The shower’ll be warm,” you say - or think you say, anyway. It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).

“Do you want me to stop?” It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off. Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat. “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.” Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern. You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise. “I never want you to stop.”

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair. He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted. “I love you,” he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment. He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off. You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders. You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.

“Start the shower.”

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that. You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away. The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,” he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream. He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip. You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does. You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside. It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you. You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.

“Hair?” You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder. It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.

“Patience, baby.” It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess. He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue. (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—” The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand. Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it. It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips. A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit. The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump. Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair. “Patience,” he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist. He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue.

“Kook,” you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess. There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest. A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.

“Relax for me.” You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more. You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish. (You wish you could see him.)

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him. (It was.) He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense. Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures. With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,” comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care. Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls. He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard. Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot; it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.

“K-Kook.” It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.

“I’ve got you.” And he does - hook, line, and sinker. He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave. It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go. He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn. See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service. Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him. You should recognise the look on his face. “Kook?”

“My turn.” It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward. There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you. It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in. “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely. (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed. In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine. It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat. His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear. It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure. “Oh fuck,” he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.

“Always so good for me.” Another thing he says, often and without prompting. It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet. “Always so perfect for me.”

“Because I love you,” you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.

“Love you too, angel.” He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway. He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted. He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart. Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust. An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision; it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard. He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high. You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings.

“Kook,” you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower. The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm. You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing. It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.

“P-please, Kook. Please.” You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his. He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation. “Come for me, Kook. Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars. Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you. It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs. You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.

“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.

“I love you,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours. “But I still need you to wash my hair.” It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days. “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.” Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements. He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery. Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.

“I thought I was an angel.” You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks. Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline. Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice. “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”

You can’t argue with that.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi

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nightlight-firelight · 3 years

Text

Hi everyone, I’m really hoping you guys like this one! I’m hoping to continue this story, if you all like this. I’m not used to writing for other people, so please give me some feedback on how I could make this more enjoyable.

“Small Things Come With a Awkward Price”

Chapter 1

Getting home was a nightmare and getting back into your room is the top priority in your mind. The trip from Walmart had you exhausted due to the unexpected heat. Looking at your phone, you swear that today was only supposed to be in the seventies. You drop off your grocery bag onto your bed and pull out the item you have been waiting to open up. The Sonic Boom season one DVD set came with Sonic and Dr.Eggman figures. Even though the box was banged up, you bought the set anyway. The thought crossed your mind that a kid tried to open the box to get the figures but luckily didn’t succeed. You opened the banged-up box and pulled the figures out and set them on the bed. Then, taking out the two DVD cases, you set those on the bed and take a walk to the kitchen with the busted box and the excess plastic.

On the way to the kitchen, your thoughts began to wonder why you had picked up the box set to begin with. It was a good price and with the addition of the figures, you thought yourself lucky to get the last one they carried. Looking back, however, you did remember that this box was just under one of the shelving units next to the videogame isle, not even covered by a speck of dust. You had only seen the box when you went to look closer at a price tag, seeing the corner of the disheveled box and its contents. Pacing your dominant foot on the small peddle of the garbage can, the lid lifts from its closed positions and you gently toss the trash into the bin, only seeing a slip of paper glide out of the now trashed box.

You groan in annoyance that you have to take care of the fallen slip and pick up the small piece of paper after a try or two keeping it slightly stick to the floor. You take a closer look at the paper and see that it had some writing to it.

‘Hope you like my surprise!’

Staring at it puzzled you. Who was this for? I wasn’t meant for you to find, at least that what you believe. Was this put in here as a joke or an accident or-,

‘Clack!’

You jump ever so slightly from the odd noise that had pulled you away from your thoughts. The noise appears to come from your room, from the way the sound was only slightly distant and lightly muffled by the walls. You take more of a pep in your step and get to your room to investigate the noise. Taking a look around your room, you find after a minute of looking to see your Sonic figure on the floor. Picking him back up you take a look at him and see that his paint job was really impressive for a small action figure. You rolled him around in your hand and were impressed that the figure, all around, was correctly put together and made. No chip marks, no lack of paint, or extra paint where it shouldn’t be. No mistakes. You smile a bit at the thought and set Sonic on your small table next to your bed. You see that the Dr.Eggman figure, however, was almost to the edge of the bed, laying on his tummy, and had his arms pushed out in front of him. ‘Looks like he pushed Sonic off.’ You laughed at that thought of the plastic toy throwing its plastic arch-nemesis over the edge of the bed.

You pick the doctor up and examine him as well. He just like Sonic with the most impeccable paint job you’ve seen. You blush a bit and hold him more gently. You won’t lie and say that you may have had a crush on the doctor for a while now, not trying to deny it anymore. The first time that you had seen him on screen when watching the cartoon, you had butterflies swarming inside of you. The way he spoke was like music to your ears, and the way that he got when he thought he was about to win was so cute to you. You wished that they had made a third season to keep going with the cute doctor, but alas, good things must come to an end.

Taking the doctor and placing him onto your mountain of pillows you take a new pair of clothing into your bathroom and get cleaned up again, remembering that the heat had not been kind to you earlier. Once done, you put your old outfit into your laundry hamper and grabbed your portable DVD payer from the corner of your room. You had gotten this for the holidays and once you had gotten it, you never put it down for more than a few hours. You open up the player and take the first DVD case and open up the side of it up to show you the contents inside.

Your mood changed to a sour one when you saw the DVD itself. A plain disk with the words ‘Sonic Boom Season One, First Disk.’ repaced what would have been the official disk. You were upset that this was a false product and went to look at the second case. When you opened that one you were greeted by the bootleg copy of the second disk. You set both cases down and head to the kitchen you grab your favorite drink.

‘Really should have grabbed this earlier when I went to throw out the box.’ thinking bitterly as you swing open the fridge door and grab a bottle of your elixir that would of relax the current mood you were in. Opening the cap and dowing a few gulps of the drink, you realized that maybe you might have had gotten a copy that may have been a gift to someone or a factory error. You put the cap back on and take a deep breath. You had wanted to watch the show and still hope that the disks were holding the content you crave.

You made your way back to your room again to find your DVD player’s disk tray opened with the first seasons stuck in the correct spot. You freaked. You KNEW that you did not put the disk is the try, not even taking it out of its case, what is it ended DOING out of the case? You panic for a second and take a look around your home to make sure no one was in the house with you. After a check of the windows, rooms, closets, and even checking under furniture, you concluded that no one could have been in your house. You take a calming breath and sit down on the edge of your bed. You try and come up with some sort of explanation. Mabey you had put the disk in your DVD player and forgot about it. You were a bit sleep-deprived due to the last week of finals, so maybe you may have forgotten? You try and relax and after a few minutes you calm down enough to stop thinking of making scenarios of how this could have happened. After getting a grip, you push the lid down of the DVD player and start up the system. Sitting on your bed, you get to the main menu and sigh of relief that it was a copy of the show and not a knock-off. “So this must be a prototype or an unreleased version, cool.” Speaking to no one in particular. You press play on the first episode, ‘The Sidekick.’ and lean back the ride.

At first, the episode appeared normal. That ended when it got to the scene where Dr.Eggman got the poster for the sidekick tryouts and when the fourth wall gag kicked in and dropped the camera away from the doctor’s face, when he picked it up, however.

“Lousy security camer-.” he had stopped and looked dead into the ‘camera’. His eyes widened and he gave off a soft gasp, and you swore he was looking dead into your eyes, however, the scene quickly changed into the next stop before he could react. You pause the clip there and lean back.

NO WAY that happened. Your brain at the moment was fried and you KNEW he looked at you. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute and you had to take a few deep breathes to make sure you didn’t hyperventilate. ‘Breath,’ You keep telling yourself. ‘Breath!’ After few minutes of reconciliation, you looked back to the paused screen and ponder on what you should do. This has to be edited or who knows what. You were too far into this to give up now. First, the way the box was hidden was now becoming way too suspicious, second the way the figure looked way too good to be sold in a box set like that, and now this? You realized that this might be bigger than what you anticipated. Your eyes connect with the figure on your bed. You wanted to see where this goes. You had to see where this leads. You press play again.

You kept watching and when it got to when the doctor was introduced it was normal until it got to the Doctor entering the try-outs. He would keep going with the same dialog but kept taking glances over to you. The episode kept playing. The ending was different, however. Once BurnBot was destroyed via growing in the ice lake, Sonic and Tails didn’t kick the doctor away from the area. Instead, they did kick the Egg-Mobile out into the distance, but the doctor jumped out, landing in the area around the lake, letting Sonic and Tails leaving the scene. The camera focused on Eggman again as he lifted himself from off the ground and into the camera’s range. This time there was absolutely no way that the Docter did not see you as his expression look of that of confusion and worry. You decided to test out to see if you were going insane or if this was just an amazing edit. You wave to him. He hesitates for a moment. “Who-” But before he could finish that sentence, a very large light appears from the screen, blinding you. You cover your eyes and try to maneuver your body away from the small screen, only forgetting that you were seated in your bed and had just flung yourself off of it. You yelp out of fright and waited to hit the floor. You felt something grab you by the waist and pull you back up on the bed slowly. Uncovering your eyes you were met with something that happens only in fanfiction. A, very real, Dr. Eggman holding you in his hands, keeping you from falling off the bed.

“Hello.” His voice wavers from either the awkwardness of the situation or the fact that he just showed up into your room.

This is awkward.

#dr eggman #dr robotnik #dr eggman x reader #sonic franchise #sonic the hedgehog #sonic boom #writing #fanfic

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

British. Handsome. Charming. - Harry Styles x Reader Retail!AU

Sorta requested.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive situations, I say titties like once

Words: 2108

Summary: When your coworker calls out and leaves you alone for a graveyard shift, you unintentionally enlist the help of a certain British, handsome, and charming retail employee from next door.

A/N: Hello this is my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I put my ‘to lovers’ trope as Coworkers Harry and Y/n but I’m kind of riffing off of that trope because I wanted to do employees at different stores in the same section of the mall.

“So, Ziva just called out...” I hear my manager Kelly break the news from behind me. A groan threatens to escape my lungs but I fight the urge as best as possible to save face in front of customers. This is the third time Ziva’s called out of her graveyard shift in the past two weeks. Tonight, we were supposed to unpack the new shipment of holiday tees, gag gifts, and decorations. On a normal night, I can handle floor set by myself, but the added challenge of holiday items and displays is a different story.

“If I take another lunch right now, I can stay and help with the floor set.”

“No,” I wave her off, already dreading the exhaustion that is bound to set in, “Go home. You’ve already done your full eight, I can fly solo for tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go before I regret letting you!” Kelly smiles with the tip of her tongue peaking through her teeth. She thanks me for freeing her and I finish straightening the last of the yellow champion hoodies on the rack in front of me.

“The boxes are on the left side in the backroom.” Backroom… got it.

Working at Tilly’s was supposed to be my high school job. At the end of Junior year, I opted for a minimum wage position to earn some extra spending money. If I’d known I would be attending the most local university in this godforsaken town, I would’ve picked a better gig; one that pays more. Or at least one that doesn’t schedule me from 7:30PM to 3AM.

The store closes at ten but the other four ish hours are for rearranging the entire floor layout. I have to redistribute the table full of graphic tees strategically around the store to make room for the holiday items we just received. With someone else’s help I could expect to be finished by 12:30. Maybe 1. Ziva calling out wasn’t part of the plan however, so I don’t expect to be finished early at all. If anything, I might have to rush to finish before my shift ends.

Not to mention I have a prose analysis final draft due tomorrow by midnight. Ziva better have some damn good excuses when she gets back.

Readjusting the waistband of my favorite jeans against my body, I head to the dressing rooms to double check for any stragglers. Upon finding myself alone, I go lock the front doors and flick off the glowing “open” sign in the front window. Hopefully time will fly faster than it has since I got here. I should’ve asked Kelly to grab me a coffee or a coke to get me through the rest of the shift. Maybe I should do some coke to get me through the rest of the shift.

Okay. What did Kelly say?

Backroom... Was that all? I hesitantly prop the storeroom’s door with the small, tan, rubber wedge before trying to take in the overwhelming mess of the backroom. The room has painfully bright overhead LED lights illuminating my path; the brightness is mirrored off the polished concrete floors under my feet. Considering there’s no holiday bullshit directly in front of me, Kelly must have given me more directions than just ‘backroom’. Graphic tees, sunglasses, jewelry. Nothing.

In my most goddamn genius idea yet, I search the top of the self of the storeroom to see the holiday boxes sealed and intact. Lovely. I can graze the surface of the top shelf with my fingertips just enough to get them dusty, but not enough to pull down any boxes.

Fuck.

This is what we have a ladder for, but we lent it out to the Zara next door. I don’t know what time they close but intuition tells me it's soon. Figuring I have nothing to lose, I dash out of the back room and unlock the front door to round the corner into Zara. Right as I exit the store, I run into someone hard enough to lose my balance, but not hard enough to take the other person down, thank god.

“Woahhh, you alright there?” British.

I look up to the face of the person I collided with. Handsome.

“I’m so sorry, I need to get to Zara.”

“I’m afraid you’re too late for that.” The handsome stranger’s statement catches me off guard and the fog of my rushed mindset disappears. Charming.

“What?”

“Jus’ locked up, I’m afraid.” I look at the completely dark storefront, and then back at the stranger. His gleaming green eyes catch mine and, cliché-ly, I’m rendered breathless by the exquisite nature of his face. Employee.

“You work at Zara,” I state dumbly.

“That, I do. And you work…?” Dropping my eyes to my worn work shoes, I’m suddenly overwhelmingly shy about working at Tilly’s.

“Tilly’s, next door. We lent you guys our step ladder and I need it back.”

“Shit,” the man smiles softly, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I have the key to the store, but I don’t have the key to the supply closet where we kept it.”

“Dammit.” When I pull out my phone to check the time, I groan at the loss of another ten minutes. “By any chance do you guys conveniently have a step ladder that isn’t in an inaccessible closet?” The beautiful man laughs at my question and shakes his head no.

“We don’t, but I am pretty tall, maybe I could help?”

“You’re not that tall.”

“Taller than you.” My teasing is cut short by the man’s quip and I lead him into the store with conviction.

“Basically, I’m supposed to reconfigure the entire floor layout around the table for all the holiday merch, and the shipment came in but someone brilliantly placed them on the top shelf of the back room.”

“Which is why you need the step ladder from the closet that I can’t open. Gotcha.”

“If you could just get those three boxes from the top shelf right there that’d be wonderful.” After clocking the boxes in question, he nods wordlessly, and slips off his nice coat, no doubt a piece from the store next door. Underneath, he’s wearing a grey button up of which he begins rolling up the sleeves to. The action made me stop breathing for a second. His forearms are littered with tattoos of various drawings, one in particular catching my eye.

It’s a two dimensional mermaid figure with no seashell-bra, her skin transitioning into scales only after exposing her pubic bone. In the fluorescent lighting of the store, it’s clear as day that this is quite possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. What’s he doing working at an outlet mall?

Zoning back in, I see he’s already hard at work. With a box no doubt full of gag gifts on his shoulder, he speaks again.

“I’m Harry by the way.”

I return the gesture and he smiles when he hears my name.

“Pretty.”

Returning his attention to the second box, he reaches up to slide the box closer to the edge of the shelf. When he does so, the hem of his grey shirt rides up to reveal a tiny strip of his toned abdomen, where two mirrored stems of fern leaves are tattooed in strikingly black ink.

I blink quickly a few times to redirect my focus, and divert my attention to the floor where he’s set the first box. This leads me to notice the brown suede chelsea boots he’s wearing. Black coat, grey shirt, brown shoes. Interesting.

“Oh shit!” I hear him mutter in a hushed voice. Looking up to the top of the shelf, I see that the last box has already been opened. Harry is balancing it between both limbs, his shoulder, and his head, but any movement would cause the contents of the box to fall out.

I rush forward to help. Moving the flaps of the box back over the top, I reach across Harry’s body to move them. Then, to keep them shut I place one palm on top of the seam, and use the other hand to support the bottom of the box. It isn’t until I stop moving that I notice the position I’ve put us in. I’m reaching up as far as I can to secure the top of the box which has placed the entire front side of my body to the back of his. I’m painfully aware of how my hips are pressed against his ass, and he must be painfully aware of the way my titties are pressed against his upper back.

“I’m gonna move backwards so it’s off the shelf. Just hold the top in place until I have it right side up again, yea?” I nod dumbly in response before realizing he can’t see me.

“Yeah, got it.” And with that he begins to back up little by little, moving at a pace slow enough for me to consistently adjust. The box is almost intact, but I’ve run out of space from standing behind Harry, and I have to maneuver myself around him whilst keeping the box shut. I cringe before doing what I have to do, and shuffling around the side of Harry’s body, my frontside pressed against him the entire time.

Finally, it’s over and we can set the box down on top of the other two. Harry stands up straight again and dusts off his hands. He adjusts his jeans, pulling them back up his hips, and I have to keep myself from staring once more.

“Anythin’ else I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so? That’s pretty much all the heavy lifting I have to do tonight.” He nods understandingly and… dare I say disappointed? I’m probably just projecting.

“Are you alone tonight?”

“Yeah, my coworker called out, but it’s fine. My boss Kelly got most of the work done earlier when she unpacked a lot of the boxes and folded the shirts into piles, so…”

“I could help.”

“You don’t need to do that. You’re already off and I’m sure you’re exhausted and-”

“I want to.” I guess I wasn’t projecting.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. That way you can go home earlier.” His smile is soft and lopsided until we connect eyes, in which case it brightens to reveal his pearly teeth. I fall shy under his gaze and avert my eyes to the concrete floor below us. My cheeks are radiating at about 1000° and I hope he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” I say, more flustered than I would have liked. Why am I getting so nervous? He’s just a retail employee at Zara.

A gorgeous employee at Zara.

“I don’t mind staying back... Spending more time with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Since I already know what you do for a living, what are your hobbies?” He ignores my question.

“I don’t have much time for hobbies. I’m only part-time while I’m in uni.”

“No way, what are you studying?”

I proceed to tell Harry all about my major and my career aspirations post-graduation and post-retail. I enjoy telling people about my dreams and yet, Harry’s the first person I’ve met in a long time that’s shown any interest in me and my dreams. The way he nods attentively despite having to fold misconstrued t-shirts and holiday sweaters, ignites a fire in my stomach that warms my heart. They way he asks hyper specific, prompting questions to learn more about my plans contrasts the fire inside me by sending chills down my spine.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are your dreams?” Harry stops folding for a moment and exhales a conflicted sigh.

“I’m not too sure at the moment. I’m content at Zara for the moment, and I haven’t decided what’s next. I do write music though.”

“You do?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“What kind of music?” He stops to think again, a bit less conflicted than before.

“It’s like, indie-folk-pop-rock ish.”

“Indie-folk-pop-rock ish?” I can’t contain the laughter spilling from my lips over the mountain of folded t-shirts.

“Yeah. A good bit of variety, really.”

“Well, it’s nice you have something to be passionate about.”

“Judging by how you talked about your dreams for an hour, I wouldn’t say I’m as passionate as you are about your studies.”

“Passion isn’t a competition. It’s what moves you forward as an individual.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh at me.

“Okay, Gandhi.”

“Hush! I’m allowed to be philosophical.” His laugh draws into a closed-mouth smile, from humor to an adoration of sorts.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” I unintentionally mirror his affectionate smile.

“Promise?”

***

A/N: This was absolutely one of those fics that, the longer I stared at it, the more I hated it and cut it down so here’s what’s remaining before I destroyed the whole thing. It’s def a puff piece and not an in depth fic but nuance is not my friend right now so, sorry about it :(

Taglist: @curlybrownhairedboys @meetmeinfleetwood

#Harry #Harry Styles #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles fic #Harry Styles writing #Harry Styles imagine #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles one shot #Harry Styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #Harry Styles fluff #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles smut

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supremeinlilac · 3 years

Text

A Winter Surprise

Prompt: Something like where reader is an airline pilot and they haven't seen each other in a long time due to reader's work. So reader is coming home for the Christmas holidays and goes to pick up Cordelia from the academy in her pilot uniform coming straight from the airport. Maybe the people there don't know about reader so they're hella confused.

Reader takes Cordelia to Switzerland or somewhere else snowy to celebrate intimate Christmas together. Maybe the reader proposes there? Could you add some snowy walks, hand holding and window shopping and something else hella mushy and sweet? Like Cordelia has hearts for eyes 24/7.

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Word Count: 4725

PART 2 HERE

A/n: Thank you once again for this AMAZING prompt!! I loved writing it, and I think it turned out even better the 2nd time lmaoo :) anyway this is going to have only 2 parts because I ran away with myself but I decided to merge the first 2 parts into this one lololol, the second part is a little soft smut because why not.

Also, I really haven’t proof read this, so please let me know if I’ve accidently left a note to myself in this haha. Anyway, I hope this is okay <33

You loved your job wholeheartedly, there was no denying that. It gave you room to experience everything you wanted, from travelling to new places that you could explore on days off, to seeing different cultures and learning languages. Plus, the feeling of being above the line of clouds, watching the earth move slowly beneath you never failed to draw in a breath of admiration. It gave you so much perspective, and helped to keep you grounded, for lack of a better word. Seeing the world below you, so small in the grand scheme of things made you appreciate everything.

You missed your girlfriend selfishly though. Your work as a pilot meant you might have to go months without seeing her and feeling her soft touch. It meant you’d both be frustrated and lonely in these times; which was starting to put a massive strain on your relationship. You’d argue while together about your work schedule, prompting you to take more shifts which never helped in the long run.

Christmas was coming up and you’d not seen her since the start of November, having been mercilessly booked with flights that left you across the world from her. You had planned to surprise Cordelia at Christmas. Well, it was more than one surprise you had up your sleeve; but the first was returning two days early to collect her. Zoe and Mallory were in on your heist, fully committed to handling the school’s affairs for two days for Delia to up and leave.

At your arrival at the academy, girls’ eyes lingered on you as you walked up to the heavy front doors. You supposed they weren’t aware of your job, having only seen you in civilian clothing. Smiling at their confusion, you rang the doorbell, falling backwards slightly to wait. Madison opened the door after a few seconds, eyes widening at your uniform and giving a short whistle. “Damn girl, looking good!” she chided, eyes flicking down your smart navy uniform. Her lips tugged up at one side and she waved her hand so you could enter. “I bet Delia loves a woman in uniform.” She teased; smirk set on her face as she swatted the back of your slacks when you passed. “She’s in the kitchen, I’ll go and get here.”

“No don’t. I’ll find her.” You stopped her with a hand on her wrist, wanting to find your girlfriend yourself. Madison straightened up immediately, hand coming up to her face in a mock salute. “Yes Ma’am.” She spoke seriously, before giggling and pulling you into a hug.

“I’ve missed you Y/n. You have a good time with Cordy, kay?”

“Missed you too Madison.”

Watching her disappear up the stairs before turning and heading for the kitchen. Seeing Cordelia’s shadow on the wall as you approached, you smoothed down the lapels of your uniform and stood against the doorframe. Delia had her back to you, stirring a drink and swaying to the music from the radio. You watched her, waiting for a time when she’d put the mug down so you could make your presence known without the fear of her burning herself on the drink.

Clearing your throat, her head lifted and she turned quickly, gasp leaving her lips and a momentary shock making her freeze. Snapping out of her trance, Cordelia practically threw herself onto you, arms around your neck as she took in your familiar scent.

“You told me you weren’t coming back until Friday!” she accused, grip not faltering on you as you held each other. Her hands stroked your hair when she finally pulled away, just enough to allow you to still hold her.

“I managed to get off early, I thought I’d surprise you.” You smiled when she pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. Cordelia hummed in response, letting you know that she was most pleasantly surprised by your early return.

“Speaking of surprises… We’re going away for Christmas. I managed to pull some strings and get us some tickets” you started to dance with her, pulling her into a light rhythm as you laughed. “We’re going to Switzerland Delia!”

“A white Christmas?” She beamed at the vigorous nod of your head, head falling backwards and eyes closing, picturing the both of you in a warmly lit café by the snowy mountain.

“I love you and your surprises my dear.” She breathed, pulling you by the back of the neck into another kiss she spoke through the chaste kisses, “I’m glad- that- you’re- back.”

A group of the young girls came giggling into the kitchen, forcing you to part, blushing with your hands still together. They stopped when they saw you, silence falling over the space as they didn’t know what to do having interrupted your reunion. “Girls.” You spoke warmly to them, sensing their discomfort, and you pulled the Supreme behind you, past them.

Ascending the stairs to your shared room, you felt Cordelia’s gaze on your back, making you sway your hips slightly to tease.

“You look so good in that uniform baby girl.” She purred, eyes on your butt as you walked in front of her. A quick glance behind you saw the familiar glint of lust in your girlfriend’s eyes, and the smirk that painted her lips.

“But I think I still prefer what’s underneath.”

You change into a favourite top of yours and jeans while Cordelia busied herself with packing on the bed beside you. She rambled about the happenings of the academy, everything you’d missed in your months absent, pausing on the packing when she’d reach an exciting bit, arms coming up to exaggerate the story.

You told her about the new countries you’d visited and which little romantic places you wanted to take her when she didn’t have so much business to care for anymore. You didn’t want to linger on the thought of what actually had to happen for the title of Supreme to be passed on; focusing instead on the beautiful places that you longed to take her, but probably never could.

After her initial shock of being offered a white Christmas abroad with you, her responsibility to the school ebbed her back into her senses. “But how am I going to run a school if we’re abroad?” she questioned, her perfectionism spiking as she started to worry, “not to mention my duties as Supreme. There’s just too much to think about. What if-” you’d cut off her upcoming rambling with a lengthy kiss, which she relaxed into; eventually giving in to you.

Describing how Zoe and Queenie had offered to run the school in her absence, insisting how competent they’d become and that Delia had helped form them into wonderful young ladies during their time at Miss Robichaux's. Myrtle had spoken to the board on your behalf, stating how Cordelia needed a break in order to be at her best for the order, and how this would be the best thing for everyone. She’d goaded at the men who’d disagreed, saying sarcastically that it was only for two weeks and if they couldn’t control things for that amount of time then they should rethink their position there.

Closing her case with a snap of the clasps, she smiled, having made up her mind. “It is only two weeks.” She agreed with a nod of her head, sliding up to you and tilting her head. “But we can do a lot together in that time” she kissed you, hands at your waist and a glint in her eyes before walking away. You whined at her pulling away, grasping at the fabric of her blouse.

“There’ll be plenty more time for that, sweetheart. Now where did I put my shoes?” She asked, squeezing your chin once before ducking to look under the bed. You picked up the shoes by the door and pushed them into her hands, lifting her case and wheeling it through the door.

Cordelia insisted on speaking to the older girls before you departed, quizzing them on the class rota and giving them a folder which she said contained detailed lists of what needed to be done, which some of the girls shared knowing glances at one another at. You had to practically pull her away lest she overwhelm the girls; or get too anxious over what may happen in her absence and decide it would be better to simply stay.

On the plane Cordelia sat by the window and you beside her; you had the pleasure of such a view on a daily basis. The plane was relatively quiet for this time of year, almost half the seats remaining unoccupied as it took off, meaning you had the row empty, and where somewhat private.

“Why do you have a list of things you do everyday? When you do them everyday?” you grinned across at your organised Supreme who had opened a Sudoku puzzle and was staring at it with concentration, tongue poking out between teeth.

“You never know when your lady knight in shining armour is going to whisk you away on holiday, now, do you?” bumping her shoulder with yours, eyes still on the puzzle. “Helps to be organised, is all. And hey! It came in useful didn’t it?”

Leaving the airport, you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, a shiver prickling over the exposed skin at your neck. The view was already breath taking, you heard Cordelia gasp next to you as she set her case on the ground and raised her head. The snowy mountains peaked in the distance over the buildings of the small city which held the airport. Everything was bright; blindingly so as the sun breamed onto the snow covering the house and pavements.

“It’s gorgeous, my love.”

“Just wait till we get to Zermatt, D.”

You’d booked a small cabin house in Zermatt, a quiet town in Switzerland that your co-worker had recommended. He’d said it was never too busy, which would make it perfect for your intimate winter trip with Cordelia that you’d gushed about. You took the single mountain train that took you into the town, faces pressed to icy windows at the views.

The train journey was short into the town, filled with surprised gasps and pointing out animals that passed. You let your head rest on Cordelia’s shoulder, fingers laced with hers as you both took in the passing snow topped trees and vast frozen lakes. After about 20 minutes of stretching mountains, the train pulled out to reveal your pretty little town of lights.

“There it is.” You pointed to Cordelia, and she let out a small noise at the sight of where you’d be staying. In the dusk of the evening, the town was illuminated by a warm orange glow of cabin house lights, mountains looming behind and enveloping the town in a calm nook of the valley. Pine trees scattered through the cabins, leading to a forest off to the side of the town, climbing into the mountains.

“It’s so beautiful. How did you know about this place?”

“My co-pilot, Mark, do you remember meeting him at that fancy Houston party?” Cordelia nodded, eyes still trained on the town we were now looming in on. “He saw me searching for places and recommended a few places that would be quiet. Said that it pays to be a pilot; you know about the most beautiful places that no one else does.”

When you arrived at the cabin, giddy with excitement from the built up of the trip, Cordelia wasted no time with using her magic to transport your bags inside so that you could look around. The wooden floors creaked beautiful under foot, socks slipping slightly in your haste to see the rooms. There was a cosy living room with a fireplace and a note saying that wood had been stocked out the back, and soft sofa’s with plush red throws draped over the back. The kitchen was old fashioned with a wooden island, and the walls decorated with wintery scenic photography.

The house was warm, and through the door towards the back of the floor you were met with tiled flooring and large wooden beams covered in hanging fairy lights. The hot tub sat in the middle of the room, the ceiling a gaping glass sheet so you could look up to the sky, framed cinematically with snow dusted trees and the shimmering lights.

Cordelia called you back from your slight daze at the rooms, to follow her voice through to the bedroom. She was lazed on her side in the middle of the bed, seductively stroking the blanket and winking. You laughed at her antics, “we’ve only just got here D, you can’t always be in the mood.”

She grinned, sitting up and pulling you down to straddle her, bopping you on the nose and squeezing your cheeks. “For you, my darling. I am always in the mood.” You blushed, squirming on her lap before forcing yourself to move off her and grabbing her hand.

“Come on, you have to see in this room!” you voiced enthusiastically, practically dragging her after you in your hurry to show her what you’d found.

After having explored the cabin thoroughly you both showered, scrubbing off the feeling of travel from your bodies, before pulling warm clothes on and skipping out of the door with hands held to explore the small town under the hood of the afternoon, sky just beginning to darken as the sun dipped behind the mountains.

The town was so peaceful and warm, despite the snow, due to the glow of the lights and the eery lack of the quiet hum of traffic and bustling crowds. Houses looked too perfect with the undisturbed layer of snow that coated the rooves and painted a scene of perfect calm. You and Cordelia had your faces pressed against the glass of one of the small shops, watching a intricate wooden music box tinkling on the display stand, hands linked as she pulled you inside.

The tiny high street contained a small selection of these shops, selling little trinkets to the few tourists that found themselves inhabiting the cabins in winter. Cordelia had bought you a little pendant necklace with your birthstone embedded into, which she’d told you she’d get engraved back home with your initials. You couldn’t help but go back to the store the next day, alone under the guard of getting alcohol from the shop while she ran a bath, and purchasing her the same necklace with her own stone in. You thought she’d appreciate the notion that you both held something so close to your heart that the other also had next to theirs; a reminder that even when you were away for work, you’d always be there.

Eventually, you both found yourself in a cosy little café, nestled in the back in a two-person booth, warm in the glow of the wooden cabin. In an attempt to rid your bones of the deep chill that had settled throughout the day, you ordered steaming hot chocolates with cream and marshmallows. They’d come promptly, and you thanked the waitress before sinking your chin into your hands to stare admiringly at the woman opposite, only to find her in much a similar position, having been beaming, watching you interact with the serving staff.

Cupping the mug with both her hands, shoulders hunched under her chin, Cordelia sipped at the drink, leaving a small line of cream on her upper lip as she set it back down on the table. You smiled goofily at her, reaching to thumb the offending cream from her face, before setting it between her lips to clean off.

“You’re cute.”

“Says the one with a whipped cream moustache.”

You bickered playfully back and forth, feet kicking under the table as you sipped your hot chocolates and ate flapjacks. A warm fuzzy feeling settled in your stomach at the two of you simply relaxing and drinking together; you realised it had been a long time since you’d both been so carefree and without worry to just enjoy the others company.

The morning sun shone onto the tracks left by your boots in the deep snow behind you, as you both trudged down the unkept pathway towards the secluded train stop. Excluding the small indents of a foxes paws; yours are the only prints that marred the otherwise perfect snow, creating the eery illusion that you were the first to have stepped foot there at all. Cordelia's hand found yours in your coat, fingers linked in the pocket of warmth in the surrounding freezing air. Wisps of condensation danced in front of you at every shivered exhale.

Snow fell peacefully around you as you both talked, speaking in hushed voices as if you would disturb the tranquility; like a pebble into a glassy pond. The sounds around you almost seemed muffled by the soft pillowy snow that enveloped the tree branches and make them bow towards the ground. Delia gushed about how she'd never seen such beautiful views and how she couldn't get over waking up next to you and seeing the snow counted mountains in the distance out of the window.

You bit back the desire to reach down and pack the snow tightly into a ball, or fall backwards into the blanket and make a snow angel right there, smile wide as you’re returned to a childlike state of excitement and innocence in the presence of snow.

The red paint of the train peeked through the trees ahead of you, stark and conspicuous against the bright white of everything else. Cordelia let out an animated giggle as she set of towards the clearing, pulling you behind her with breathless mumbles of encouragement.

“Come on, what do we want? Front or back?”

The carriage seats were soft and plush as you settled against them, breath steamy against the cool glass when you pressed warm cheeks against it. It was peaceful, you were both among the silent few on the first train of the day that lead to the summit of the looming Gornergrat. The train rumbled beneath you as it became alive, shuddering as it slowly pulled away from the stop, wheels moaning in ached protest as it began its ascent.

Your fingers tingled at the change of temperature on the train, colour blooming back into paled cheeks at the comforting warmth. You both shed gloves and scarves to the seat opposite, hands brushing lingering snow from hats and shoulders as to avoid them melting and seeping invasively into cold clothes. The Supreme took your hand between hers, cupping it and bringing it to her face to blow warm air into her palms, rubbing the numbing cold feeling from one hand before repeating the action on the other.

Out of the window, you could see the rest of the train curl around the corner of the mountain in front of you, the drop into the valley below steep and dangerous just to the side of the track. Cordelia loved to look down into the vast space below, seeing the miniaturized trees and cabins, just the thought of the sheer height made your stomach clench uncomfortably and your head spin, clutching to your girlfriend’s hand. You knew that this feeling was irrational; you spent everyday up thousands of feet above the clouds, piloting planes, but then you had full control of the situation, knowing that nothing could go wrong. This was different.

It started to snow just before the train pulled up at the peak of the mountain, giant dancing snowflakes whirling through the air and turning the sky white with their abundance. You both shrugged hats and scarves back on and shoulders hunching protectively as the door swung open, leaving at the mercy of the elements outside.

Algid winds nipped sharply at your cheeks as you stepped off the train, spontaneous tears forming at the invasive breeze on your face. Cordelia’s hair whipped wildly around her face, only stilled slightly with her hat, framing her excited eyes as she turned to you, smile wide and hands up in the air as if reaching for the sky.

The snow was deep as you trekked the short distance towards the viewpoint, snowfall easing as you reached the edge, clearing the sky in front of you to reveal the clear views that spread before you. Cordelia reached the fencing first, turning to wave a hand to hurry you up and join her.

At the viewpoint, you both let collective gasps leave your lips at the panoramic scenery. 5000 feet above the tiny orangely lit town where you’d been mere hours before. Necks craned to see better, your finger pointing and enthusicastically shouting that you could see your cabin below; a pinprick of brown against the background of overwhelming, white-washed landscape.

Breathless at the sheer view you’d been gifted with of the Alps and the Matterhorn, you both fell into a deep silence. You knitted your brows together, looking forward as you felt in your pocket, breathing deep and building yourself up in your mind to do what you had planned this whole trip for.

“I am so sorry that my job causes me to be so absent.” You mused, elbows coming to rest on the bar of the viewpoint. You both continued to stare at the views as Cordelia mirrored you, elbows leaning on the bar. “Baby, we all have to work. I’m just glad we get to-”

“I quit my job.” You blurted out, causing her to stop and turn to face you. “You what?” Staring at you from behind wide eyes, you repeated yourself, finally tearing your eyes from the winter view to glance at Cordelia. The surprise on her face was not well hidden, neither was the fact she was saddened to hear that you’d quit the job you’d once dreamed of.

“You don’t need to that my love. I know it makes you happy.” Her gloved hand came to hold yours, eyes sincere as she squeezed your hand in hers.

“I got a new job. Its seasonal so I only have to work January through March and then September. Its better than what we’re doing now, right?”

Cordelia nodded, turning to face you. “That gives us so much more time together; thank you.” You fiddled in your pocket to retrieve you phone, having to strip your hands of the warm gloves that covered them to unlock it. You had told Delia that you wanted to show her something on it, but you accidently let the device slip from your fingers and into the snow by her feet, disappearing into the layers of snow.

“I’ve got it.” She assured you, and you let her crouch down to retrieve your phone, slipping down yourself behind her. She straightened up and turned around, smile faltering as she took in your position. “Y/n.” She warned, voice wavering and eyes darting to look for other people that may be nearby. “What are you-”

“I love you Delia. I love you so much and I know that you love me too.” Her hands came up to her mouth when she realised that you weren’t joking, eyes filled with adoration as she listened.

“The moment I knew that I would follow you anywhere, and that you were the one; my only one, was when you looked after me in March when I had that Spanish flu. I couldn’t leave the bedroom in case I passed it onto the girls, and you stayed with me the whole time, caring for me when I was too weak to do it myself.” Cordelia was crying now, beaming through tears which she kept wiping away with gloved fingers, and nodding along with you words.

“Well this is me staying, D, I want to stay with you for the rest of our lives. I love you.” She mouthed ‘I love you too’ back, head leaning to the side slightly as she wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug and never let you go.

“I love that you make me whole, and that when you smile, I feel like I might actually die, because you’re so beautiful Deils. I love that you are nothing like Fiona, and that you stick up for me, and that we make memories together and that my most beautiful moments are with you.”

“I can’t wait to have moments just like right now for rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

You slowly opened the box to reveal the ring that glimmered against the harsh light of the sun; eyes lifting to meet Cordelia who was staring at you unwavering, hands clasped at her chest. She was nodding fervently, laugh bubbling out through her smile as she pulled you up into her by your hands.

“Yes, my darling. Yes of course I will!”

After shakily slipping the ring onto her finger, relief and happiness drawing fresh tears upon both of your cheeky; you let Cordelia admire it against the background of the mountains. Rising onto toes to press a lingering kiss to her temple, her fingers sprayed apart as she held them up to the light.

“Come here you.” She coaxed, fingers wrapping round the back of your neck and drawing you into a passionate kiss. It was the ultimate memory, to kiss, now newly fiancés at the peak of a snow-capped mountain in Switzerland.

Returning from outside, Cordelia lit the fire with a dexterous flick of her wrist, settling down on the couch with a sigh. Her legs spread across the whole couch, back resting at one end. Her eyes searched for you, twisting to look down the corridor at you walking towards her.

“Come here baby.” She cooed; arms extended towards you in invitation for you to settle between. You gave her a quick peck on the lips and a gentle squeeze before lying between her legs and resting your head against her shoulder, nuzzling your face sideways into her neck, inhaling the lingering smell of her perfume on her pulse point.

She wrapped her arms around you, and you let out a surprised squeal as she pressed her cold palms suddenly against the warm skin of your stomach, muscles rippling instinctively under her touch. “Sorry baby.” She apologised, placing a kiss to the hair on the crown of your head before letting her chin rest there.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it” you giggled, relaxing again as her fingers drew absentminded patterns on your torso, her breath tickling the hair atop your forehead as she exhaled.

You both sat in the comfortable silence that enveloped you, having been apart for so long you basked in the fact you can simply hold one another and just exist. Cordelia’s thumb brushed softly against your own knuckles and you hummed in appreciation at the candidly loving action.

That night, Cordelia found herself propped on her side, head lying on her bunched-up pillow and allowing herself a quiet moment of observation. She missed these simple aspects of your presence. The comfort you brought her, even in sleep as she watched your chest rise and fall evenly and undisturbed.

You stirred slightly, face scrunching up momentarily before relaxing into a peaceful expression again, making Cordelia hold her breath to not wake you. Hair had fallen to block you face so she reached out delicately to tuck it back behind your ear, her eyes brimming with tears that she gets to simply watch you sleep like this.

Overwhelmed with her love for you beside her; she fell into a rhythm of her thumb on your cheek, tracing the freckles and light marks that marred your skin beautifully. You always expressed your dislike for these, but Cordelia would always silently shake her head in objection, knowing you would believe her voiced adoration.

“When did I get so lucky?” she whispered, leaning forward to brush lips lightly over yours before returning to her pillow and hooking an arm over your hip.

Dipping into sleep, she found herself vowing to prolong her reign as Supreme for as long as she could, never wanting to leave you alone and vulnerable. Especially while you slept, she thought. You look so pretty when you sleep. So pretty. She drifted off, arm draped protectively over your waist, pulling you closer in sleep.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocolaypse #ahs imagines #sarah paulson imagines

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jeongjaebae · 3 years

Text

Love Station

⇢ Jaehyun x reader | AO3

⇢ 7k of fluff, heart fluttering moments, and meme references

⇢ You never expected anything good to come out of a train delay, much less for it to play cupid on this Valentine’s Day.

Turning 23 wasn't something you were overly excited about.

Nothing good could come out of being this age anyway—you were starting to feel old and life was starting to feel stagnant. Besides, everyone's seen the meme about checking up on your friends born in a certain year because no one likes you when you're 23. But heck, you'd already felt that way for long enough so it doesn't really matter that it's your birthday today because no one liked you at 22 either. Or at any age.

Maybe that's why you're still single on this Valentine's Day, which coincidentally happens to be the date you enter your 23rd year since birth. Whatever deity that's up there probably planned this to give you a headache every year, making you watch couples all around you broadcast their PDA everywhere while you only became one year closer to growing old and wrinkly. And dying single.

"Are you on the train yet?" Yoojin's loud voice comes through the phone. "Also what are you wearing, because I'm having an outfit dilemma again."

"Almost at the station," you reply, checking the time for the sake of it. You knew your best friend would be late regardless of the occasion, so you never had to rush. "I didn't expect it to be so cold out here. Wearing the pink blouse with the bow, that black skirt, and some thin tights. Long coat of course."

Yoojin was your best friend of seven years and happened to be the complete opposite of you. While you were generally shy, she had no qualms about talking to strangers. She'd always been bold and unabashed with her opinions, attracting quite a large group of friends and enemies alike, whereas you have always stayed within your comfort zone of invisibility. And whereas you were completely dense and unlucky when it came to boys, she had a list of them long enough for the both of you.

"Tell me you at least have some tall boots on," she replies with some rustling sounds in the background as she probably flips her entire closet upside-down. "You should've gone with a warmer outfit; there won't be any boys around for you to impress! It's only your date with boring old me."

You roll your eyes and play along. "I'm dressing to impress the cute waiter, obviously," you say, "the one with the super sweet smile who looks like NCT's Doyoung." It's all made up, of course. In reality the two of you didn't have a reservation or even a restaurant in mind yet, and of course, there's obviously nobody who could ever be as cute as Doyoung.

Your best friend was all about being spontaneous and winging it, and even letting fate decide things.

"Oh you better hope that he's not out with his girlfriend tonight then," she singsongs. "Anyway, I'll go pick out an outfit now and bring a pair of leggings for you or something. Oh and before I forget, happy birthday!"

"Thanks," you say with a smile as you approach the train station. "I'll see you soon!"

It's slightly more crowded at the station than the emptiness that usually greets you at this hour, but that's not surprising since it's Valentine's Day after all, and people would have plans in the city. And just as you would expect, there are people holding big bouquets wrapped in a special paper with hearts all over it, packs of chocolates in pink and red boxes, and delicate single roses encompassed in beautiful ribbons.

It wasn't something that you felt like you were missing out on. You've never spent Valentine's Day with someone special anyway; it was always some sort of birthday celebration with friends. Until your friends started getting into relationships and then the birthday thing got pushed to different days. Either way you didn't mind because people don't need particular days to show their love for others, so Valentine's Day was all just a big marketing scam.

Or so you tell yourself.

The February air is cold and makes it hard to pry your transit card out from your wallet with your frozen fingers. When the machine nearby is finally free, that's when you go to tap your card.

"Don't."

A hand slides right in between your card and the machine, blocking it from being detected.

"Excuse me?" you automatically respond.

The first thing you notice about this annoying stranger is that he's tall, as it takes a while for you to look up to see the face of said annoying stranger. The second thing is that he's incredibly good looking. Nice skin, large eyes, and some evidence of dimples slightly visible on each cheek. A strong jaw line and sharp gaze.

But none of that matters because he better have a good explanation for you.

"Don't waste your money tapping your card. The train's been delayed and won't come until maybe an hour later."

"What? An hour? Is this some kind of joke?"

He shakes his head. "There was an announcement a few minutes ago but they'll probably repeat it soon."

"But it's not even April Fools Day," you mutter under your breath, but proceed to put your card away anyway. "Are you serious?"

That earns you a funny look from the annoying stranger, a mixture of a smile and a grimace of sorts. "Yeah, I'm really just going to go up to strangers and prank them by telling them about a train delay."

"Well, maybe if you're one of those YouTubers who go around pranking people for reactions?"

He rolls his eyes. "No, but your reaction was terrible, by the way. A two out of ten at most."

"Hey, you're the one who had to break the news to me like that!"

The corner of his mouth twitches but before he says anything back, the blare of the announcement comes on.

"Attention all passengers! Attention all passengers. The line 1 eastbound train is experiencing delays due to a technical issue on the tracks. It may be over an hour before the track can get cleared. Once again, the eastbound train is currently experiencing delays of an hour or more. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

"And there it is. Do you believe me now?" the annoying stranger asks, raising an eyebrow at you. It's not so much of an 'I told you so', but rather a sad 'welcome to the club'.

"Yeah... sorry for not taking you seriously."

"Nah, no worries," he shrugs and gives you a quick smile. The first you'd seen from him. "We're all just stuck here now."

When he turns to look at the announcement board, that's when you take the chance to really study him. He's dressed like he's walked out of a Korean drama: turtleneck and a nice formal jacket. He looks to be about your age, maybe a university student or fresh grad. Hair gelled up and parted at the side. Perfectly dressed to go on the perfect Valentine's Day date with his perfectly stunning girlfriend.

As perfect as it can be with this whole train delay issue anyway.

You follow his gaze to the announcement board and see that it now has red words everywhere, indicating all the delays of the trains. It definitely wasn't looking good. Even if Valentine's Day was nowhere close to being one of your favourite holidays, you were looking forward to at least seeing a friend on your birthday.

"Yeah, I guess so. On the one day I had plans in the city." You sigh at the thought that seeing your best friend might not be possible anymore.

"I know the feeling," he frowns, somehow still looking just as good as before which is entirely a mystery to you, "I'm also supposed to be in the city tonight."

You nod, then pull out your phone to shoot Yoojin a quick text about the delay. The cold wind sears your hands and you yet again regret wearing so little when you knew this train station didn't have an indoor waiting area.

"So, what are our options for getting out of here now? Do you think the buses are still running because we could probably take one?" he suggests.

The 'we' takes you by surprise, but then you realize that he's probably talking about everyone here. All of the ten or so people that are just stuck at this station in the cold for the next hour.

You grimace at the thought of dissipating his ounce of hope. "Well, the nearest bus station is all the way across town, so by the time we get there maybe the trains will have already started working."

The handsome stranger sighs. "Maybe an Uber then?"

"It'll be rush hour soon so that only works if you want to be going during the most expensive time of day using the most expensive form of transportation."

"Ah, that's true." He looks disappointed. "Hmm, if the trains don't come by the next hour, maybe I'll just head to the bus stop."

Oh how nice it would be to have a car to get there yourself.

Buzz. The phone vibrates in your pocket and you could already imagine how Yoojin would be reacting to your news. Hopefully she hadn't already started on her crazy makeup routine yet, because who knows if your meet-up could actually happen at this rate.

"It's chill, don't worry about it! I'll head to you instead. Text you when I'm near."

Sometimes Yoojin's spontaneity was just what you needed. You message her a quick thanks and then shove the phone into your pocket before your fingers freeze off.

It's quiet for a bit and you almost forget about the handsome stranger entirely until there's a crinkling sound and you find yourself staring at the rose in the pocket of his coat, the clear foil around it blowing gently in the wind. It was on the side facing away from you earlier, which is probably how you didn't notice upon first glance.

Of course, he has a girlfriend. With a face like that, who wouldn't have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend. Maybe even multiple.

"Special occasions, right?" The corners of his lips are curled as if holding back a grin, and like this his dimples are visible.

But why was he still talking to you? You figured he was probably just trying to be friendly seeing as the two of you would be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time. Maybe you'll even become all buddy-buddy by the time this ordeal finishes. While you weren't a fan of small talk or talking to strangers, it was nice to be able to have someone by your side who was experiencing the same struggles.

And besides, he clearly has a girlfriend so there was no point in writing that "strangers to lovers" fan fiction in your head.

You clear your throat. "So... Valentine's date with your girlfriend?"

"Valentine's—" he pauses for a second and you can almost see the gears turning in his head. "Right, it's Valentine's Day today. Nah, I'm celebrating my birthday instead." Then he holds up the rose up and glances at it as if he'd also forgotten about it. "And no girlfriend. This is for my cousin. Her boyfriend's overseas so it's hard for them to meet up, so I thought I would get something nice for her and keep her company."

That actually takes you off guard and causes you to replay the words in your mind to make sure you heard correctly.

"Wait, it's your birthday today? Really?"

He gives you a strange look. "Yeah, there are actually people born on Valentine's Day, believe it or not."

"That's not what I meant—"

"I'm just kidding." His eyes twinkle in amusement. "It's also your birthday today, isn't it?"

"What—how did you know?"

He chuckles. "Your reaction said everything."

"Wow, someone is a smartie."

"What about you? Valentine's or birthday date with your boyfriend?"

"Best friend," you correct him. "And yeah, it's a birthday dinner."

"That's nice. I've actually never met anyone else with a Valentine's Day birthday."

"Honestly, same."

His eyes curve up into crescents as he smiles with his entire body, and it's dazzling and is so bright that it makes you want to stare for just a moment longer. The two of you laugh for a while at that coincidence, still amazed.

"So, how old are you turning?"

You groan, "The age where no one likes you."

"Ah, I just passed that." He wrinkles his nose as if remembering how terrible a year it was. "But hey, can't have no one liking you at that age if no one liked you anyway."

His words immediately put an image of that roll safe meme into your head and you find yourself laughing.

"Wow, those are my thoughts exactly."

The handsome stranger only gives you an innocent shrug. His meme game was on point, and that almost makes your heart flutter for a second. Almost.

Another cold breeze whips your hair into your face and blows straight through your thin tights, making you shiver.

"Hey, um, I hope this isn't too forward... but since we're stuck here anyways for the next while, do you want to possibly go hang out in town?" He bites his lips a little, making his dimples stand out even more. "It just kind of sucks to see our birthdays go to waste like this. Only if you're comfortable with it though, but of course we'll be in public areas the entire time."

You couldn't believe your ears for the second time today.

On one hand, the logical voice in your head was screaming stranger danger because you just met him! You hadn't even exchanged more than a few sentences! On the other hand, you could already picture Yoojin telling you to never waste an opportunity, to go with the flow and live life a little recklessly. To stop waiting for a train that might never come, to stop waiting for perfectly planned moments in life that might never occur.

"So, what do you think?"

Besides, if he's not some crazy serial killer or anything along those lines, the only other danger you could possibly see was getting heartbroken. But of course there's no way you'd fall for a stranger in one day; you didn't believe in love at first sight or fate or whatever other mushy romantic cliches that movies love to portray. This would merely be a fun time between two people who happened to be stuck together because of a train delay, on a day that happened to be both of their birthdays. A simple coincidence, really.

"You know what," you smile. "Screw it. Let's go."

***

The smell of the arcade brings back memories from when you were a child—friends' birthday parties, hangouts in middle school, the occasional school trip. It had been fun as a child even though you hadn't been very good at any of the games and probably never won anything worth keeping. Looking back, you hadn't set foot in this place in years.

"We'll get the one with the most tokens," the handsome stranger—Jaehyun—says to the guy behind the counter, flashing you a smile when you raise an eyebrow at him.

Jaehyun. It had sounded so pretty when he introduced himself.

You'd been afraid that conversation would come out awkward and forced between two strangers brought together by no more than a train delay, not knowing where or when or how to start. But there was actually never a dull moment between the flow of words and laughter that made you feel as if he was someone you've known for a long time. The short walk to the arcade had been spent on reminiscing and comparing past memories of growing up in this town, brainstorming fun places and cool restaurants that you'd been to or have yet to go to, pointing at familiar buildings and telling funny stories about interesting moments spent in there.

"Come on, let's go." He leads the way into the main area where all the action is.

The arcade still looks the same as the last time you were here, though everything seems smaller than you'd remembered it. Bright lights flashing from every machine, loud noises at every corner. So many games that you'd once thought it was impossible to play through all of them.

"Let's start with this one?" You point to the zombie shooting game. It was something that you had always wanted to try as a kid out of pure curiosity, but you'd been too scared to at the time.

"That one? Really?" He raises a brow at your suggestion. "Alright, but I bet I can beat you."

"I would also bet on you winning," you respond dully.

After choosing characters and weapons on screen, the two of you settle in your seats and finally start. It's like watching a horror movie where you expect huge jump scares at every corner except there's no music build-up or anything to warn you that a zombie might just show up. Horror was definitely not your forte but maybe he was better at handling these things than you were.

You get your answer when the first wave of zombies finally show up. Jaehyun screams. You scream.

Somehow you manage to shoot some of them by pure instinct guiding you, however your aim isn't exactly good with your eyes closed half of the time. By the time the screaming dies down and you notice that both your characters had died in the zombie battle, you finally turn to see how he's doing. The way his face is twisted in a mixture of utter shock and horror would've been something to laugh at if you hadn't been just as scared.

"If I recall, someone said they were going to beat me at this," you tease after seeing the final score. Neither of you did particularly well, though your score somehow turned out to be much higher than his.

"You should've given me a warning that it would be this scary."

You burst out laughing at his expression. "I didn't know either!"

That's when you notice how you're clinging to each other. Your hand clutching his arm, his hand right on top of yours.

"Oops, sorry," you mutter and quickly detangle yourself from him.

"It's fine," he says with a laugh. "But yeah, those zombies were next level."

Needless to say, you guys don't go back to that game.

The arcade is quite empty on this afternoon and you're glad that most of the games are unoccupied and can be played right away. Even with everything going well so far, you still have the fear of having awkward silences and uncomfortable conversation.

It's a while later when you try again at a different shooting game, though luckily this time it isn't zombies that you're dealing with, so it isn't scary at all. It's a teamwork game this time, and what surprises you the most is just how good your teamwork turns out to be.

"To your left, in the corner."

"Phew, got him. Thanks," you reply, promptly shooting the character before he could shoot you. "Watch out—right above you."

"Got it."

It lasts a few rounds but you manage to make it to the end and finally clear the game.

Jaehyun's whole face is lit up when he turns to you. "Wow, that was awesome. Great teamwork."

He holds up both his hands for you to high-five, and just as your hands meet his, you can't help but notice the way they linger together a little longer.

Time flies as the two of you go from game to game and you're trying your best to beat him at any game possible. While he does let you win some of the time, more often than not, he ends up winning. Though it's not like you could be upset about it at all when he looked so happy after each win, excitedly showing you his score or prize. It was definitely nice to be as carefree as kids again.

Yet there was something deeper with the adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart racing that it becomes hard to tell whether it may be from the excitement of the games, the warmth of his body right beside you as he patiently teaches you his strategies for winning, the bright smiles that seem to light up his whole face, or those damn dimples.

Why did this Valentine's boy have to be not only heartbreakingly handsome but also incredibly kind and considerate?

"Hey, you want to try one of those?" The sound of Jaehyun's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you silently pray that you hadn't been staring at him subconsciously. And if you had been staring, hopefully he didn't notice as he's pointing to the line of game stands at the side where the games are always rigged and you can never win big prizes.

"I've never won anything from there before, so I sure hope you're good at those."

He ends up picking a dart game out of all the options, but maybe this one would be easier than the rest.

The man at the dart stand greets you and explains the rules. "Are you trying to win something for your girlfriend?"

"Oh, we're not—" you start but stop as soon as you hear what Jaehyun says instead.

"It's Valentine's Day after all," he says easily then follows with a wink at you.

He didn't deny...?

It's three shots dead center to win one of the biggest prizes or five within the smallest ring. It makes your heart pound a little faster seeing Jaehyun so focused with his nice stance, sleeves rolled up slightly, and intense eyes on the target. However, he misses on the first shot with his dart going off the board.

"Well that's no fun," the man says, frowning at where the dart landed. "I suppose I could give you another chance, since it's Valentine's Day and all. Wouldn't want to end up empty handed, right?" He laughs to himself but puts the dart back in Jaehyun's hand.

"Thank you," he says, flustered judging by the hint of a blush that sweeps his cheeks. "I'm not usually this bad."

"It's okay! You're doing great, sweetie," you joke.

He rolls his eyes at you despite the way his lips curl up at the corners, then gets ready to throw the dart again. And this time? You're sure your jaw is to the floor when he manages to get all three darts to hit the board dead center. The man congratulates him for winning and then they disappear into the back room to pick a prize. Jaehyun later comes out holding the biggest dog plushie you've ever seen.

Once you're back outside after the arcade adventure, that's when he stops and turns to you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like but I hope this is okay," he says quietly, gingerly handing you the giant plushie.

"It's great, Jaehyun." You meet his gaze as you take the plushie and he quickly looks away. "Thank you."

"You know, I'm really glad we ended up doing this. It's even better than what I had planned originally." Then he adds more quietly, "One of the best birthdays I've had in a while."

"Yeah," you smile. "Me too."

It's only then when you realize that Yoojin and the rest of your plans had totally slipped your mind.

***

It's chilly outside as the two of you walk around town. Valentine's Day decorations were everywhere, with the chalkboard menus of local restaurants featuring couple meal sets with tons of hearts drawn around them, various pink and red plushies lined up on the windowsills of nearby shops, and even lamp posts on the streets covered with mini heart shaped lights. The sight of those things usually would've made you roll your eyes and pretend to puke, but somehow it doesn't seem to bother you quite so much today. It's as if you're seeing everything through a new perspective—one that might find the rosy decorations pretty and one that might understand the hype of such a holiday.

"Y/N," Jaehyun suddenly says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. Before you could even react, he's quickly switching positions with you so that you're sheltered between him and the wall of the nearby building.

Then he's turning to you. Hand on the wall behind your head, body leaning towards you.

So close that you could see the individual eyelashes framing his eyes.

But in the next instant he's looking behind him where a car drives by and splashes up a large amount of water from the melting snow on the side of the street. Which lands right where you were standing just a moment ago.

Jaehyun turns back to you, eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Um, are you?"

"That's good." He glances behind him and then reassures you with a quick smile. "And yeah, all good."

"It was a close call. Thanks for saving me."

"Wouldn't want your clothes to be ruined by that." He laughs. "How are you doing though? It's pretty cold out here."

"I'm okay," you automatically reply.

That earns you a skeptical look. "Your cheeks are all red. Come on, let's go warm up somewhere."

When you resume walking, he's taking the outer edge of the sidewalk.

A couple of blocks later is when you find out that the place he had in mind turns out to be the local coffee shop. You'd never been there before but had always thought of it as a cute place when you pass by it, so when you enter, the interior definitely matches up to your expectations. It has a rustic theme with warm glow from fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and there's soft music playing in the background, a nice place to study if it's as empty as today.

Jaehyun buys you your drink. Kind of.

"I bought one, but they gave me one for free," he says, beaming when he comes back to the table with the drinks—a coffee for him and a latte with a cute little heart floating in it for you. "Maybe the barista was charmed by my smile."

"Hmm." You look behind him to see a sign at the front of the store saying, 'Buy one get one free—Valentine's Day special'. "Are you sure it wasn't because of my charming smile?"

"You're right, that could be it. You are quite cute."

"Exactly."

Wait, what did he just say?

You do a double take but he's merely staring back at you with dimples just barely visible and eyes sparkling through thick eyelashes that you could only wish yours looked like.

Suddenly it feels like the heater's on extra high in this cafe or maybe it was the way the latte burns your tongue as you take a big gulp. Whatever it was, it definitely succeeds in warming you up a little too well, especially your face.

"You okay? Don't burn yourself," he says, the amusement in his eyes betraying the concern in his voice.

You nearly spit your drink out at him. "Nah, no burn. I'm good, thanks," you say dryly.

Time seems to slow down as you relax in your seat, body finally warming up in the coziness of the cafe. The small corner you're in almost feels like a liminal space; such a transient place you'd only ever noticed while passing by, yet a whole different world on the inside where one can hide forever. Perhaps you wanted to hide here, to enjoy the fleeting moments of a strange but amazing birthday.

Conversation ebbs and flows though you're a little surprised when Jaehyun opens up about his life. His passion for music, especially, is what picks up traction as he happens to know your favourite group, NCT. From there it becomes a debate of whether Doyoung or Taeyong was the best looking member (you insist that Doyoung's Instagram was all the proof one needed, whereas he points out that Taeyong's sharp jawline could totally cut that VVS diamonds they keep singing about). You definitely don't tell Jaehyun the fact that maybe—just maybe—he's even more attractive than your NCT biases and that he could totally be an actor from a Korean drama.

Everything you hear about him makes you appreciate his vulnerability, yet you can't help but wonder if he's so open with just anybody. You were a complete stranger, after all.

Yet every time you see the twinkle in his eyes when your gaze accidentally meets his, part of you wonders if 'strangers' no longer fits the definition of where this strange relationship was going. It leaves you with wanting to avoid looking at him which is quite difficult with him seated directly across from you. Maybe you should've sat where your plushie was, taking up its own chair between the two of you, but it's too late and now you're left to deal with the audible thud of your heart every time you make eye contact with him.

And yet when you think about it, you realize that it wasn't Jaehyun's cute dimples or his deep voice or his lame jokes that had your nerves acting up.

It was probably the caffeine.

But maybe it was the small things that you hadn't even realized you'd noticed. Earlier at the arcade when he patiently taught you the games that you were unfamiliar with, letting you win games but also winning at them himself just so he could give you the prize. Saving you from a car first then from the cold with the warmth of the cafe. Opening the door for you, sitting closer to the door to block the cold wind from reaching you.

And how despite the number of reschedules and plan cancellations you both had to make due to the train delay, he hasn't pulled his phone out a single time. You admired how in the midst of all the chaos today, he was still nothing but calm and polite the entire time and seemed to have everything under control. He was a comforting presence that made you forget about the madness of the outside world for a little while.

Nah, it had to be the caffeine.

Still, you find yourself glad to be stuck here with him, even as far as dreading when you both had to leave. You're definitely appreciating Yoojin's ability to be late right about now.

A lull in the conversation has you sneaking a glance at your phone to check up on your best friend. There's no text from her as she's either still doing her extravagant makeup or still on her way here, but for some reason you let out the breath you held in relief.

"I wonder if the trains are running now." A glance out the window shows you the remnants of sunset and the quickly darkening skies. Then you cautiously throw out the question that you'd been holding onto for a while. Something that you'd been reluctant to bring up, carefully stepping around it the whole day, and something that he hasn't talked about either. "Oh right, didn't you say you would end up taking a bus? If the delay is still going on."

Maybe it's a test to see his reaction, maybe it's to end this vague relationship before you become even more attached than you already are. Because any rational person wouldn't just throw away all their birthday plans for someone they'd just met.

"Oh. Right." Jaehyun looks down and swirls the stir stick in his drink. Clockwise, counter-clockwise, back and forth. "I, uh, actually forgot that I didn't drive here today." He shoots you a sheepish grin then runs his fingers through his hair that has deflated quite a bit since you first saw him. "So can't exactly drive over to the bus stop."

You smile back weakly. "Ah, that's okay. There's probably a ton of traffic out there now anyways."

An ambiguous answer for an equally ambiguous relationship. It could definitely be a real excuse, yet somehow the thought of that makes you almost disappointed. Maybe there are no answers to the questions and uncertainties muddled in your mind.

"But did you want to get rid of me so fast?" He actually pouts at you, as if his regular face weren't already enough to break hearts.

"What? No, of course not? I—what?" you manage to get out.

"Okay, good!" The pout immediately goes back into his regular smile. "Phew. It's sad enough being single on Valentine's Day; no need to get rejected on top of that."

Then his phone buzzes and it finally pulls it out.

"As if anyone would reject you," you mutter under your breath while he's distracted.

It's true. You might've expected Jaehyun's appearance to be making up for other areas, or maybe even hoping he'd be too rude or too blunt or have a bad character. Because the cognitive dissonance in your head wants a reason or excuse to remain distant and emotionally detached from him. But the kindness and authenticity that you saw today just leaves you without a reason, which makes it that much harder to stop yourself from liking him.

"Sorry about that; what did you say?"

"Nothing!" You plaster on a cheerful smile.

"Okay, my cousin is going to be here soon."

"Oh."

Then there's the sinking of your heart, the inevitable dread that this unexpectedly enjoyable afternoon is coming to an end. Somehow it manages to crush the anticipation you had for your birthday celebration with Yoojin.

"You know, I kind of feel bad that you paid for everything today," you say. "Let me pay you back?"

"It's fine, Y/N. We had fun and that's all that matters."

"True, but you should've at least let me buy the drinks!"

That manages to make him smile but it quickly dies as he bites his lip, suddenly hesitant. "If you really want to..."

"Yes!"

"...you could just pay next time."

What.

"Next time?" you repeat, afraid to believe what you were hearing.

"I mean, if you—maybe—want to hang out again sometime?"

You open your mouth to say something, or maybe it was already open in your state of shock. Nothing comes out as if you lost your voice.

Jaehyun briefly meets your eyes before continuing. "Well, um—I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you today. I know the train thing was probably an inconvenience to everyone else but to be honest, I'm kind of glad that happened." He laughs a little. Stops. Bites his lip. "And yeah, if you're down, we could hang out again sometime. Because I'd love to get to know you better."

Thud.

You could only stare back at him as the roaring of your pulse becomes all you can hear. The whole day you were telling yourself that it shouldn't be possible to develop feelings for someone within a day, almost trying to hold yourself back from enjoying your time with him to the fullest in the fear that you might be wrong. And it's not like you developed crushes very easily, but here in front of you was a boy so friendly and good-natured even to a stranger he'd just met, someone who really seemed to care about you.

"Jaehyun..."

He continues, "I know it's weird meeting like this, and I don't really believe in this whole fate thing where we just happened to be stuck here and we happen to have the same birthday. All I can say is that I really enjoyed talking to you and hearing your thoughts and um, youknowyou'rereallybeautiful."

The logical inner voice had been screaming stranger danger the entire time because you didn't know him at all! You'd just met him today! Yet the small fic writer voice in your head, which definitely sounded a lot like your best friend's voice, was trying to convince you that maybe fate does exist. That if it doesn't, how likely was it that you met someone with the same birthday which happened to be Valentine's Day? That you met at exactly the right time and that the train the two of you were going to take was delayed? That you managed to have one of the best birthdays that you could recall?

Maybe sometimes you need to let go of any fears and just live life to its fullest. Let yourself feel a wide range of emotions without being afraid of getting heartbroken. Stop holding back and just be true to yourself.

It suddenly feels too hot in the cafe once again.

"Yeah," your voice comes out quiet, unsteady, but his words give you the courage to reach over to hesitantly take his hand. "Today has been amazing and I'm so thankful that you're the one I was stuck with."

His eyes flicker to yours then away. "But...?"

"There is no 'but'. Jaehyun, I'd love to see you again."

"Yeah?" He lets out a long exhale before his face visibly brightens again. "That's a relief. I didn't think you would agree, but I didn't want to have you walk out of my life just like that."

Then there isn't a need for any more words as shy smiles are exchanged and fleeting gazes meet and there's a warmth bubbling in your chest. It's as if you spent the whole day worrying over nothing. That somehow, everything worked out. That maybe it was fate, and maybe it wasn't, but the connection you thought you felt wasn't just one-sided. It was something real, something tangible.

"Jeong Jaehyun!"

The booming voice jolts the two of you out of the moment and makes you immediately spring apart.

"Did you seriously make me take the train all the way here just for you? Who is this girl because she better be real nice for you to ditch me—" The loud voice from the woman walking into the cafe stops right when her eyes land on you. She smiles sheepishly, dipping her head lightly as if apologizing for her outburst. "Never mind; forget I said anything. I approve."

"Nice to see you too, Minah," Jaehyun greets as you both stand. You can see how his face is still flushed from earlier, but now he's put on a neutral expression again and what you'd seen just a moment ago has been erased. "Don't worry, I won't make you take the train back. I'll drive you home after."

"Oh, you have the car. Bless." Minah brushes her hair back, tidying it from the effects of the wind. Then she stops suddenly and narrows her eyes at him. "Wait, why didn't you just drive over if the trains stopped working?"

"You—have the car? I thought you said you got a ride," you muse out loud.

"Oh, uh. Actually I forgot I had it since I usually get a ride here and it would've taken too long to drive there in rush hour anyway... so... yeah..." He trails off and shifts his weight from one foot to another, and it's even more evident how flushed his face is, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

You hear a snort and see Minah practically shaking with quiet laughter.

"Y/N!" The bell at the door rings again as Yoojin steps into the cafe, bringing a rush of cold air in with her. "There you are! And oh—" she stops mid-sentence when she spots you with Jaehyun, his cousin, and the massive plushie sitting in its own chair. "Minah?"

"Yoojin?"

"You guys know each other?" you ask tentatively.

"We were friends in high school!" Yoojin replies. Then gives you a questioning look. "Minah, it's been so long. We should totally catch up."

Minah nods enthusiastically, jumping up to give Yoojin a warm hug. "Totally!" Then she briefly glances at Jaehyun. "Well, I was supposed to have dinner with my little cousin over here but if you and your friend are free, then we could all go somewhere together?"

"How about we head over to that cute little diner that was our hangout spot for the longest time?" Yoojin suggests with a glance over at you and Jaehyun.

Minah squeals. "Let's do it; it'd be just like old times!"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I wanted to borrow Y/N for a bit," Jaehyun says. "We'll let you guys catch up in peace without a third and four wheel."

"Yoojin, we can always hang out another time if you want to go with Minah."

Your best friend looks at you suspiciously with her eyes narrowed. "Hmm, yeah that works. I'll call you later and you better give me all the details though."

"Okay, deal."

And with that, they both head for the door. Yoojin turns to give you one last wink before they're gone.

"I guess it's just us." Jaehyun's eyes are sparkling when they meet yours and he gives a gentle smile before shyly holding you hand. "We're probably too late for my reservation, but there are some good food places not too far from here."

"So..."

"Have dinner with me?"

"Hmm, I thought you didn't have your car here."

He looks pained. "Y/N!"

"I'm just kidding! I'm actually starving so let's go."

***

It's hours of delicious food, good conversation, and shy glances later that he finally drops you off at home. When your phone buzzes this time, it's not from Yoojin—it's a text from an unknown number followed by an image attachment.

"I have a feeling this is very false for you :)" it reads. And your heart skips a beat when you see the image.

It's the "no one likes you when you're 23" meme.

On the day of your 23rd birthday, you definitely weren't expecting anyone to like you, just as you haven't for the past 22 years. But with the words in Jaehyun's text that you read and reread, the light fragrance of the rose now in your vase and the giant plushie on your bed, and your mind replaying his bright smile and dimples and the sparkle in his eyes, it seemed like today was different.

Maybe today, someone just might like you when you're 23.

#jaehyun fic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #jeong jaehyun #nct fic #nct x reader #nct x you #valentines day fic #jaehyun fluff #loosely based on real life events #not that i met jaehyun but he did come to my city #ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY JAE BAEEEE #happyjaehyunday #Extra RushedTM #how many times did i rewrite this in the past day hmm #nearly pulled two allnighters wow #ok yolo if no one reads this it's 7k of me figuring out #how to write dialogue tags hAHAHA #my fic

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