#and the location is good its like a 17 minute drive and not too hard of a drive either

[guinevereslancelot]

job interview tomorrow 🙏

[juniorgman187]

Something Borrowed, Something Blue (Reid Fic)

*MY GIF

Summary: Despite her engagement to someone else, Spencer grapples with the reality that he’s in love with SSA Reader when he sees her in her wedding dress.

A/N: I am so fucking proud of Spencer’s speech that I wrote.  Playlist: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe + FINNEAS This song hurts so good :,) Category: Fluffy happy ending! Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: possible unrequited love, soft angst  Word Count: 6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but I had this inexplicable, preternatural ability to detect when we weren’t heading in the right direction - a skill unaffected by even shut eyes or the deepest slumber. 

It seems as though after all these years of being (y/n)’s passenger, my body has developed a survival adaptation in order to offer her guidance before she would even have to ask, or worse - lower her pride and admit she’s lost! 

With as hard-headed as she is, she’d sooner drive us to Timbuktu before asking me for help.

I was half-asleep when I peeked through one half-lidded eye to observe where we were only to see she blew right by Gregory Boulevard when she should’ve turned left on it. 

“Um, you should make a u-turn at this next light,” I gently advised her before returning my head to its previous position perched on my hand. I closed my eyes again with the presumption she would follow my navigation and make a u-turn, but when I didn’t feel the car change course, I opened them to see that she blew right past the stoplight, too. 

“Hey, my apartment’s that way.” I gestured behind us while looking at her for the first time, catching a smug look on her face. That’s when I knew I was in for it. “Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I grumbled, slumping back into my seat with partially renewed energy. Her little antics never failed to get my heart racing. I never knew whether to expect a sweet sunset or a sea of snakes when it came to her. She was that polarizing. “Can I at least get a hint?” I egged on, considering she had yet to even reply to my first statement. 

She was completely unfazed by my pleading. She didn’t even peel her eyes away from the road - that’s how little attention she thought I deserved. “Mmm depends. What’s the magic word?” 

This blatant tease was successfully getting a rise out of me. “Pleaseee,” I dragged out the word as if it would do me any good to let her hear it for longer, but in reality, she just liked to hear me beg. 

She took a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, a chupse, to express her displeasure before saying, “Ooh tough luck. The magic word was actually mushroom, but nice try.” 

A mirthless chuckle escaped me for willingly falling for her tricks despite knowing she’d pull something just like that. This girl was the bane of my existence, but at least she still rewarded me with a hint anyway. 

“Your hint is …” While pondering what hint to give me, her eyes traveled to the side, away from the road long enough to make my heart palpitate in a “if-she-doesn’t-pay-attention-to-the-road, we’re-both-gonna-die” kind of way. 

“... something old.” 

Again, she tore her eyes away from the road so she could register my reaction, but truthfully, I didn’t have one. I had no idea what that hint meant. Or rather I had too many ideas, far too many to limit to just one. 

She could’ve been talking about the age of a location, the history of a place, the vintage appearance of something - virtually anything.

“There’s an infinite amount of possibilities about what that could mean,” I argued. “If you actually want me to guess, you’ll have to give me something more.” 

As expected, she was not a fan of my whining and simply rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, stop complaining and use that big brain of yours. I’m sure you’ll figure it out before we even get there.” 

Although there was a high probability she was right that I could’ve solved it by myself, it was more enticing to feed off of what she could give me. “What if I ask you ‘yes or no’ questions?”

The gears in her head were turning as she weighed the pros and cons of humoring my offer. “You better ask some good questions then,” was her answer, which was the long way of saying yes. 

“Is this ‘something old’ an object?”

She hesitated, then decided on, “No.” So I took that as maybe. 

“Is this ‘something old’ a place?” 

There was no indecision with this answer. “No.” 

“Is this ‘something old’ as in appearance?” 

Again, a partial hesitation, but still ultimately a, “No.”

Realizing I pretty much exhausted the tangible, I settled for something more abstract. “Is this ‘something old’ a concept?”

“Yes, you could say that.” 

Her answer would prove to be redundant, as just seconds after we would arrive at our mystery destination. 

Ellie’s Bridal Boutique. 

“Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue.” I recited to myself under my breath when I finally unearthed the meaning. The rhyme was a wedding tradition that referred to the things a bride is supposed to wear on her wedding day that’s meant to provide protection and prosperity for the new couple - a superstition.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” She mimicked the sound of a winning buzzer. “And you are going to be my something old.” 

A short chuckle left me as I stepped out of the car. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do - wear me?” I jested. 

“Well you are a very pretty boy, but I don’t know if you’re pretty enough to wear down the aisle.” 

“So then how am I going to be your something old? I’m only two years older than you.” 

She stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk to reach for my hand. I’d be lying if I said the chilling warmth of it didn’t make my breath hitch. My eyes fell to where our bodies met, but they rose to look at her again when she finally spoke. 

“You’re the very first person I met when I started working in the BAU, which makes you my oldest friend on the team, and since you were the first one that saw me, I wanted you to be the first one that saw me in my dress, too.” 

I was already aware that she’d picked out her wedding gown months before, so this appointment couldn’t have been anything more than an alteration update. The only reason I knew that, besides the obvious, was because I could still remember with perfect clarity the morning she came into work after her fitting. She marched right up to my desk to wave a picture of her in the garment right in my face. It wasn’t until I drew back with my head that I could see the image clearly. The dress, while incredibly stunning on her, ‘didn’t fit right’ - her words, not mine. 

“But that’s not how it’s actually gonna look on me. I asked them to take in the waist, change the neckline, and alter the length.” She vividly described to me, letting her finger run over the digital photo of the dress as she spoke. “Do you see what I mean?”

I lied when I said, “Yeah, I do,” because really, I didn’t need her to describe the details to me - I could already see the vision. Even if the dress was the wrong color, length, and ‘poofiness,’ I’d still think she’d look lovely. 

It was my only hope that her future husband would think so, too. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here for my alteration with Reagan at 4.” Just as quickly as she introduced herself to the receptionist, she was being whisked away by an older woman who seemed to have recognized her. 

“Oh, (y/n)! It’s so good to see you again! Come, come, your dress is ready. I just know you’ll love it.” 

Before she slipped out of my vision completely, (y/n) turned around to address me. “I’ll be right back, I promise. Just wait here.” 

I raised my hand in the air to give a short acknowledgment goodbye and followed her instruction to sit in the chair that lied directly in front of a circular raised platform. 

“Are you the groom?” A soft voice from beside me suddenly asked. I looked up to see it was the receptionist holding a tray with a glass of champagne. 

“Oh, I’m okay thank you,” I denied the alcohol with a shake of my head. “And no, no I’m not. Just an … an old friend.” Again, her words, not mine. 

It would come as a surprise to both me and you that with as much as I know about the world, I had no idea how long this would take before I saw her again. With my estimates, it should take maybe fifteen minutes maximum before she walked out in her dress, but who knows? It’s (y/n) after all. She runs on her own clock. The sun rises and sets on her. 

At least in my world it does. 

By around minute 17, I realized my estimates were way off and there was no way she’d be coming out any time soon, so with all that I could do in that store having been done already, the only thing left for me to do was read. Nothing of quality, though. Just those frivolous bridal magazines on the coffee table beside me. I didn’t even want to think about the germs and bacteria that were harboring on these reading materials, but if it meant it’d cure my boredom then perhaps the contraction of microbes would be worth it. 

To say I wasn’t well-versed in fashion would be an understatement and reading the subscriptions only emphasized that further. To put it in perspective, you could style my future bride in a medieval frock and it wouldn’t discourage me whatsoever because I simply have no understanding of what a ‘good’ wedding dress is, therefore, I cannot make an accurate comparison. 

Take, for example, the dress on page 17 of Modern Bride. The model was donning a high neck, long sleeve creme satin dress. I thought it looked quite nice and classic, but the excerpt described it as totally out of style and too old - a faux pas.

But when comparing that dress to the gown on page 24 of The Bride’s Guide, I couldn’t spot a single difference between the two, yet this passage was written in complete adoration. “This dress is vintage done right,” said the article. But to me - they were exactly identical! What was wrong with the first one?

Maybe it was a good thing grooms weren’t allowed to help pick wedding dresses because if I had to assist my bride in picking her’s, then, of course, it would be bad luck! I’d probably pick something utterly horrendous!

I had to admit it was slightly humiliating to confront my incompetence relating to wedding dresses, so before my self-esteem plummeted any further, I set the magazines back in their rightful place on the coffee table so they could once again be what they were always intended for - extraneous decor. 

With a flick of my watch, I noted the period of waiting had only increased by three minutes. Again, I had yet to master the art of wedding garment fittings, but how was 20 minutes not enough time to put a dress on? However, unlike my better half, I had (relatively) zero problems admitting my ignorance, whereas she’d rather drive us off a cliff or into a lake before letting me know she was lost. 

In surrender to my lack of knowledge, I rose from my seat to approach the receptionist and ask if she had a more accurate estimate for how long it would be until I saw (y/n) again. But as it turns out, any estimate she might’ve been able to tell me would’ve been completely wrong for she wouldn’t have even been able to finish her answer before the aforementioned future bride entered the space behind me. 

Remember before when I said I had no gauges of good fashion to outrank a medieval frock? Well, I stand corrected. 

(Y/n) in her dress is what I will measure everyone against. And no one will ever compare. 

“Wow…” The word came out of my mouth before I could think to stop it. My tone was so honest that it scared me. “I’m - You’re …” I was at a total loss for words that I had to sit back down to hopefully regain some clarity. She laughed at my stupidity with a laugh so gentle, I couldn’t not laugh back. 

“That good, huh?” 

I wordlessly nodded while my mouth lied openly in waiting. But the right words never came out; there just weren’t any that could capture this vision of perfection in front of me. 

My mannerisms had clearly already given away the true level of my admiration, so in an effort to lessen the enormity of my obvious wonderment, I reluctantly broke my gaze away from the angel in white and picked up a magazine on the table to perfect the notion of nonchalance. 

“You look . . .” She impatiently waited for my addition, even doing the most adorable little twirl in her dress to give me the full view in the meantime. “Nice,” was the adjective I settled for, as it was such a thoughtless response that perhaps it would convince her that there weren’t a million thoughts on my mind. The most recurring one, and arguably the most troubling one being: I think I’m in love with you. 

“Nice?” She repeated like the word stung her tongue, more out of mock offense than earnest disappointment. “You’re reading your magazine upside down so it’s gotta be better than nice.”

I bashfully looked down to find that, sure enough, her words were true. The magazine was upside down and therefore a total revelation of just how ‘nice’ I really thought she looked.

I tried to hide my smile behind my knuckles as I pressed a fist to my lips, deciding on the most sincere compliment I could give her. 

“Nobody holds a candle to you, (y/n),” I nodded in affirmation. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

After saying so, I nonchalantly - well as nonchalantly as one could when caught slack-jawed and completely in awe - reoriented the catalog. Had I glanced up even a second later, I might not have caught her reaction to my words and the way they made her smile uncontrollably. I looked back down at the magazine with a smirk, giving it a brief flick to open up the pages all the way to me and parrot the motions one would make if they were actually reading.

We both knew I wasn’t though. 

It seemed I never left that wedding boutique because even as we arrived outside my apartment later that day, my mind was still there, stuck on the future bride in her gown.

“Earth to Spencer!” She waved her hand in front of me to grab my attention despite already having it. “We’re here!” She announced. Who was I kidding? She always had my attention. I only wish it didn’t take me this long to realize that the reason she was constantly at the front of my mind was that I loved her.

Nearly about to exit the car, the millionth and one thought rang in my head like a bell - wedding bells, if you will. 

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

At a tantalizingly slow speed, I released the doorknob and turned back towards her.

“...I love you.”

She furrowed her brows and shrugged with her mouth, forming a confused pout. “I love you, too, Reid?” She kind of laughed when she said it, so I knew she thought this was just a friend sending off a friend goodbye, but I couldn’t let her think that’s what I meant. 

“No, not like that.” I clarified with the utmost candor. “I’m in love with you.” I shook my head when I said it which, in any other context, might make you think I was lying, but the shake of my head was merely the physical manifestation of every bone in my body knowing I shouldn’t be saying this, but my heart still having the audacity to do it anyway. 

I confessed with that brutally honest tone again, the one so raw and vulnerable it leaves you nauseous and breathless all at once as you anxiously anticipate the other person’s response to your vulnerability. But I couldn’t even meet her eyes, I was too scared. Even if I had, they would’ve been vacant. Her spirit had vanished from her body, and in its departure left just the shell of a woman who was completely void of color. Her flushed face was a remnant of the shock that paralyzed her and it wouldn’t disappear even as I tried to bring her color back. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I wish I had better timing - trust me, I will beat myself up later for not saying it sooner. But I promise you, I am not trying to ruin things between you two and I would never actually try to stand in the way of your wedding - you have to believe me. I want you to be happy and if he’s what makes you happy, then I will live with that. I just had to tell you now because ... if you married him without ever knowing how I felt, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”

This was true - I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t said anything - but now that I have - will she be able to forgive me?

Vacant stares turned into piercing glares that drove, what felt like, a thousand daggers right through my heart. She was looking at me as though I were a stranger - completely unrecognizable to her. 

(Y/n), it’s me. It’s Spencer. Don’t you remember me? My heart pleaded. I’m still the same guy I was before. I’m the first friend you made on the team, remember? I’m your something old. Please, please remember me. 

By the time I came to the woeful conclusion that she wouldn’t reply, at least not now, there was only one question weighing on my heart heavily enough to make me ask it before I left her car. 

“Would it have been better if I didn’t tell you?” 

My question stayed answerless even as I lingered at the door after getting out, waiting for one. I knew I should’ve closed it, but I couldn’t. In many ways, it would’ve been shutting the only open vessel to her, formally closing myself off from our friendship. The possibility of losing her as soon as I walked away was too real, and I wasn’t ready yet.

“Please, (y/n), talk to me.” It was a trending theme to have every word I spoke be underlined by this profound piteousness. “Say something.” Say anything.

“I ... I need to get home,” She quietly whimpered, practically begging me to let her go. Up until then, I didn’t want to, but I suddenly wished I had shut the door sooner so that I might not have had to hear the quiet addition, “To my fiancé.”

The color she was so void of in her face? It seems I must have recompensed, for not only was I crowned her something old that day, but I was also her something blue. 

_ _ _ 

If there were a guidebook on all the things to do as the love of your life’s wedding (to someone else) nears, I’d like to think I was following all the protocol. 

Since my not-so-subtle confession, I had yet to press the subject or force her for an answer to my final question, which I think she was thankful for. I also hadn’t plotted a giant scheme to ruin the wedding, nor did I have any intentions of doing so. 

For all intents and purposes, I was acting as a gentleman (who’s in love with you but whom you’re not marrying) ideally should.

You would think that after my big declaration, (y/n) would do everything in her power to avoid me. It’s what I would’ve done. But she’s no coward. That exact heart of gold I fell in love with made no exceptions. Because even after what I did, she still had it in her to extend her kindness to me. 

She’s stubborn like that, remember? 

And though she was showering me with a treatment I didn’t deserve, it still wasn’t enough for my greedy heart. 

The true pain lied in the pretending. Every day I would have to come to work and talk with her and laugh with her and smile with her - I would have to be her friend … pretending that was all that I wanted and nothing more. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that she was acting just as she always had with me. It may seem weird to have expected, nay - wanted - a different reaction from her, but I just wanted something. At least, if she was angry, then I would know what I said had some effect on her, but she was just so indifferent. Like what I said didn’t matter. 

It’s been said that there is a thin line between love and hatred. Hate and love both seem to be involved in the neural processing of what is sometimes referred to as the arousal effect of emotion - this is a technical term, so arousal can be negative. Scientists studying the physical nature of hate have found that some of the nervous circuits in the brain responsible for it are the same as those that are used during the feeling of romantic love – although love and hate appear to be polar opposites. Therefore, the same brain circuitry is involved in both extreme emotions. So, as strange as it may sound, if she didn’t love me, then I at least wanted her to hate me, just so I’d know she had any passion for me that matched my burning passion for her.

But as it turns out, she would never go on to display signs of hatred or love, for she never acted passive-aggressively, never gave me the silent treatment - nothing. Nope, she just acted as if it never happened. She went on with her life, essentially expecting me to do the same, but how could I carry on with life while she was still carrying half of my heart with her? 

It’s an impossible feat, that - to walk around with half a heart. And it’s one that has not gotten easier with time. If anything, time has made it worse, and the closer we got to the wedding, the more difficult it became for me to hold back. And with this exponential growth, it was only inevitable that the pinnacle of difficulty came right before the wedding. 

Before shit hit the fan, she arranged, or rather insisted, that I give a speech at the dinner rehearsal. That hadn’t changed, despite almost everything else having done so. Up until the minute I arrived at the venue, I could’ve recited that speech a million times, forwards and backwards, in my sleep, or even in Russian. But I lost any ability to form coherent thoughts from the second I laid eyes on her. 

As soon as I opened the door, she stood at the entrance to greet her guests, having taken a radiant form that I could only imagine would not pale in comparison to what she would look like tomorrow on her actual wedding day. That thought alone scared me shitless. 

If this is how beautiful she looked tonight and it was only just the rehearsal, how would I ever be able to resist her less than 24 hours from now when she would be marrying a man I could only dream of being half so lucky as?

“Spencer!” Familiar crinkles formed around her eyes as a result of her gigantic smile when she saw me and hugged me thereafter. Her embrace was strangely tighter and lasted for longer than usual, not that I was complaining, but I had to wonder if she was compensating for something. What’s that saying - keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Was she killing me with kindness? That might’ve been wishful thinking though. Because the same flash of indifference I’d been dealt in recent times came back into her face and tone after hugging me. “You’re at table five with the rest of the team.” 

“Oh, thanks.”

That was it? Just a ‘Spencer!’ and then a nudge in the direction of my seat? No questions about my speech? No threatening comments to not say anything that would ruin the charade we’d been playing for months now? Had she forgotten I was even giving a speech?

“Oh, wait, Spencer!” I felt her hand on my shoulder before I heard her voice. “You left this in my car a couple months ago. I’ve been meaning to give it back to you, but I didn’t remember until today.” 

The first thing that raised a red flag was what she was saying. I’d left something in her car? That would imply that I’d forgotten something, and we both knew that wasn’t possible. But the second suspicious element was the matter of what she claimed I’d left behind. She was handing me a book with the back cover facing me. From the looks of it alone, it wasn’t mine. Clearly, it wasn’t mine. I knew every single book that resides on my shelves and this one has never once crossed them. That, on top of the new book smell and the lack of a wear in the spine, was enough to tell me that not only was this a book I’d never read nor was one to grace my bookshelf, but it was most certainly not one I would have left behind.

She was lying. 

She saw the realization dawn on me, but knowing I would mention it, her hand’s grip around my wrist, which I hadn’t noticed was even there in the first place, tightened, sending me a message. 

She knew I saw the deception. There were so many flaws in what she was saying, that she couldn’t have possibly been clueless of them. It was too easy. Or maybe that was by design. She wanted me to figure out it was a lie. But why?

What was she hiding?

The final thing to leave me when she did was her hand. In its place, it had left a a near perfect indentation in my sleeve. How flawlessly it sculpted to her hand told me just how tightly she was holding me. What was she trying to say?

That’s when I flipped the book over to see the cover. 

Can Love Happen Twice?

And right on the inside cover page was scribbled - in a handwriting so distinctive it could only belong to one person and one person alone - “Yes.” 

_ _ _ 

My heart was racing the entire night as I anxiously awaited for the moment to give my speech. Nothing seemed to ease the tension. Not a sip of water, not the loosening of my tie, not the self-soothing bouncing of my leg. But all it took, all it took was one glance from her and suddenly, the storm within me had settled. 

“Next up we have a speech from Spencer Reid!” 

I rose from my seat like a floundering mess, as to be expected, because how can you possibly catch your bearings as you’re about to make a speech to a room full of people?

“H-hi there. I’m Dr. Spen- I’m Spencer Reid. I’ve worked with (y/n) for several years now and - and so I, um, I wrote this speech for her, so, so I’m gonna read it to you all now,” My stammering had gotten the best of me, so before I could unravel into the mess I surely came off as right about now, I spun from my previous position facing the majority to facing only her. I needed to see her. I needed the reprieve of her eyes again, and she was happy to give it to me.

“(Y/n), from the moment I met you, I thought who is she? And I mean that quite literally because I had no idea who you were and why you were there,” Laughter from the crowd erupted, but her laugh was the only one that mattered to me. “But also because there was just something about you that told me I needed to talk to you. I had no idea what that instinct to strike up a conversation with you would lead to, but I trust my gut a little more now because that very intuition gave me one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” 

To my words, an endeared pout formed on her face. She was touched, and I was glad. 

“Over the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years we’ve spent together, I have enjoyed every single measure of time with you. You have taught me more about life and myself than I could have ever learned otherwise - which says a lot,” This once again brought her to laughter. “So I thank you for that, because without you, there would be no one to tell my campfire stories to, there would be no one who could recite Jung or Freud with me, and there would be no one I’d have to correct when they drive down the wrong path,” My own chuckle cut my sentence short. 

“Life with you has simply been made better, and my only hope is that tomorrow, as you get married, you too, will experience that eternal bliss with which you have surely bestowed upon everyone who has had the privilege of knowing you.”

By now both of us were on the verge of tears, hers more apparent than mine as she used the palm of her hand to stifle her sniffles. 

“There is so much more I could say about how great you are, but your favorite author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, has said it best. ‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful’,” A tear ran down her cheek as my own eyes welled up beyond their means. “So to you both - may you have a life as beautiful as the bride.”

Even if that life isn’t with me. 

I tuned out all the clapping and cheering, and set my focus solely on her, giving me full liberty to see the way she rose from her chair and escaped the room. Not even shock could paralyze me or stop me from running after her. I sprung so fast into action, which required the maximum amount adrenaline, although I could not credit my speed to the rush, but it was more the exclusive motivation to find her that powered me. The entire time I kept calling out her name as I frantically chased her out of the venue. 

“Spencer.” 

I didn’t even see her there at first, probably because I was half-expecting her to be jumping into a cab or running away from me some more when I found her, but just as before, she made it too easy for me. She was waiting for me, standing there in no spectacular fashion. 

The wind was blowing strands of hair in her face that were not so large so that I couldn’t see the red rings around her eyes that were caused by the irritation and formation of tears. She was simply staring back at me with this look in her eyes as if she wanted to say something. 

In the silence, I could still appreciate how astonishingly gorgeous she was. How badly I wanted her. I would’ve whisked her away and taken her as mine if I knew it would make her happy. But that’s just it - I didn’t know. 

I needed her to say it. So say it. 

Say it, darling. 

Spoken through a congested voice (which spoke volumes in reality because of the mere revelation that she was indeed crying) was the plainest, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she vanished back into the restaurant, leaving me to my devices on the sidewalk. 

She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. 

_ _ _ 

Perhaps the false confidence in my speech or what little she had to say to me after it or even the hidden message in the book got to my head, but whatever it was, I was feeling suspiciously alright. Luckily, that feeling didn’t deviate even as I made my way to the church. 

Upon arrival, everything seemed exactly as it should be, so consequently the lack of something out of place did not adequately denote what lied just beyond those doors. Or should I say what didn’t?

Much to my mortification, it was a completely empty church. Every pew, though decorated for a wedding, was uninhabited and showed no indications of having been such recently. As I walked further in, the door automatically shut behind me with a loud bang. It would’ve shocked me more had something else not caught my attention already. 

It was (y/n), standing at the altar … completely alone. 

Suddenly, it felt like I’d been drawn in by this invisible gravity, which was now floating me down the aisle. My feet could not carry me to her fast enough.

I was sure this was some kind of dream simply by the way the light gleamed through the stained glass windows, casting banners of golden luminescence on her. It was as if heaven itself had come down with the specific delegation to illuminate the vision of one of its fallen angels. 

“(Y/n)?” My voice reverberated throughout the chapel, ricocheting off the high, painted ceilings and back to me. “Where is everyone?” 

It wasn’t until I reached a certain point in the middle aisle, that I realized her veil had been covering her face this entire time. The angel in white only turned more heavenly when she flipped the veil backward, revealing herself to me. 

It took her a moment to answer, but it was her head that answered first before her mouth did. She began shaking her head slowly, followed by a short, unequivocal, “No.”

As you might imagine, I was dumbfounded. “No?” That answer wouldn’t have made sense in the context of what I had previously asked. 

“No.” She repeated, with somehow even more definitiveness. I decided it was best to stay silent and wait for her explanation. 

“No, it wouldn’t have been better if you didn’t tell me.” 

There was my answer I’d been searching for. 

“God, Spencer - what took you so long?” 

From the breathlessness and the rushed cadence of her voice, I knew precisely what was coming next. She instantaneously abandoned the bouquet she’d been clutching in favor of her hands’ ability to pull me in. The pressure on my fragile skull when our frenzied lips finally met was not a punishment so much as it was a reward. And just as we began to find our rhythm, I slid my hand into her hair, which I began to regret when I realized just how much time and effort probably went into its structuring. I pulled away the moment I felt a carefully placed pin lodged within her hair slip between my fingers. 

True, for a moment I was unable to open my eyes afterward from the sheer elation I was experiencing, but as I came to, I found myself looking at the hairpin I’d accidentally extracted from her curls, one that I could’ve sworn I’d seen a fellow coworker of ours donning in the past. 

“Is this -”

“Yep, it’s Penelope’s.” She admitted through the most debonair giggles. After giving her a quizzical, and only partially judgmental glance, she managed to blurt out, “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It was my ‘something borrowed’!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person 

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (17)

    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst → smut (dom!jjk themes but only because he can’t control himself lol)

words: 8.2k

    chapter seventeen

Namjoon dropped you off back on campus and was even kind enough – or guilty enough – to offer his help in your search for Jungkook, but you didn’t want to take up any more of his time and, in the case of actually finding Jungkook, you didn’t think you’d make the situation better by having Namjoon with you.

The first thing you did after you exited his car on campus was leave the campus – because you thought that Jungkook may have lingered by the club where Parental Advisory performed tonight; even if his bandmates didn’t seem to think so, since Yoongi insisted they’d lost their lead vocalist – and walking around in the shoes you’d picked today was almost enough to make you regret not asking Namjoon to drive you around, after all.

You hadn’t worn heels but the ballet flats were still not fit for this much walking and, once you circled the club twice and even asked the manager – who was having a smoke outside – if he’d seen Jungkook, you decided that you could understand why Yoongi had been so upset about his bandmate’s disappearance. 

As you returned to campus, you decided that you were also ready to strangle Jungkook once you finally found him.

“Have you heard anything from him?” you asked in your text message to Yoongi and then informed him, “I’m on my way to my dorm now to change into more comfortable shoes but I’ll check some of the buildings where he has classes after that.”

Just as you passed the library – and peeked inside because, although slim, there was the possibility that Jungkook may have been hiding out here (he wasn’t) – your phone buzzed with Yoongi’s reply.

“The guys and I will check them,” he was saying, “are there any other places on campus that have some significance to you and him?”

You did a double-take when you finished reading the text, not liking the wave of awkward and misplaced guilt that returned when you fully grasped what Yoongi was implying – he may not have been accusing you of anything, but he was, clearly, convinced that you were the reason why Jungkook missed the encore of his show and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth.

“I’m not sure,” you started to type back as you walked past the double-doors of your dormitory, startling your seemingly drunk RA who had been dozing off on the couch in the first-floor lounge. You stopped typing to press the elevator button, but then resumed, “I’ll walk around. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“He could have,” came Yoongi’s arbitrary – but, frankly, objective – response and you sighed as you read his words, your reflection looking very gloomy in the mirror of the elevator. “But let’s hope he didn’t. If you find him first, kick him where it hurts most. And then punch him for me, too.”

You couldn’t help snickering at the absurdity of the situation that you were in – you definitely never thought you’d end up bonding with Jungkook’s bandmates over your mutual frustration with him – as you typed back your response.

“If his phone isn’t back on within the next ten minutes,” you were saying in your text, stopping for a second when the elevator ding! announced that you’d reached your floor, “I will be doing a lot more than just—”

You stopped typing as an audible gasp escaped your lips, prompted by the sight at the far end of the hallway, right by the door of your dorm. Your phone nearly left your hands, on its way to crash on the floor. You’d caught it—miraculously—your eyes still locked on the figure, sitting on the floor by your door.

“Jungkook,” you said, meaning it as a question but not being able to articulate it properly due to your shock. The dim lighting of the hallway made it difficult for you to make out if it the silhouette was actually him, or if it was someone who was incredibly similar to him.

“Oh,” the person replied and – clumsily – stood up, relying heavily on the wall to help him support his weight. It was Jungkook alright. But barely. “You’re here.”

“I’m—of course, I’m here. I live here,” you said, not sure how to react. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Various unintelligible sounds left your mouth after he said this – the first syllables of all the words you wanted to say in the moment; all of them rated-R – until you settled on watching him for a minute to get some time to form a coherent thought and to asses the damage.

It didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. It simply looked like he got very drunk and plopped down on the floor next to your dorm room.

“Waiting for—Jungkook, fuck—do you know that your band is literally out there, looking for you?” you demanded after inhaling sharply. “There’s a whole search party for you and you’re—you’re here.”

“I was waiting for you to come back,” Jungkook said. He was a lot more sober now than he was hours ago, but he still wasn’t sober enough to recognize his own guilt. Actually, he was probably never sober enough to feel guilty about anything, but alcohol had little to do with it. “I was going to drive over there to find you—”

“You’re drunk,” you snapped, interrupting him.

“Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t,” he said, pausing for more effect as he waited for you to express your admiration for his self-control but, after it didn’t come, he cleared his throat and, sounding disappointed, explained, “I knew you would give me shit if I drove a car drunk and I promised you that I wouldn’t. So I didn’t. I waited for you here instead.”

“You should have known that drunk-driving is unacceptable because that puts you and everyone around you in danger,” you countered, the moral superiority in your voice clouding the meaning of your words, “and not just because I would give you shit if you did it again.”

He rolled his eyes but chose not to expand on this argument because you didn’t look like you were in the right mood to understand his point of view about “conforming to societal norms”, even if it meant that he was putting himself – and those around him – in danger. Not to mention, he was still too tipsy to hold out a proper conversation.

“How long have you been here?” you asked after he didn’t reply.

You were well-aware that you were having this conversation in the hallway when you could have, theoretically, had it in your room. The door was right there. The key was in your handbag.

But entering – and inviting him inside – wasn’t something you were ready for just yet. The adrenaline from not knowing where Jungkook was and what had happened to him still hadn’t faded. Your breathing still hadn’t calmed down – funnily enough, it would not calm down for the rest of the night, but you didn’t know that yet.

“A while,” he replied just as you remembered you were supposed to let Yoongi know you’d located the missing boy. You got your phone out while Jungkook continued, “I bribed your RA with my six-pack of Heineken. Well, actually, it wasn’t really mine, I just took it from the bar, but—”

You stopped typing the text message to give him a hard look. “You stole six bottles of beer?”

Jungkook blinked, thrown off by the fever in your eyes. “No. I took them.”

“Without paying?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s stealing.”

“I do it all the time,” he waved his hand dismissively – and pushed himself off the wall in the process, only to lean back against it again a moment later, when he realized he was still not steady enough on his feet. He nodded his head at your phone, “ask Yoongi. The manager knows us there. We get drinks on the house.”

“I’m—how do you know I’m texting Yoongi?”

“You said there was a search party for me,” he said, taking you off-guard with his accurate conclusions. You wondered what sort of effect alcohol had on him, “Yoongi is the only one that cares enough to lead it.”

He didn’t mean to make it sound sad – in fact, his facial expression remained the same: somewhat cautious and a little irritated – but you still felt an unpleasant pang of misery in the pit of your stomach.

“He’s—well, I care, too,” you said with a nervous cough that was meant to rid you of all pity you felt towards him because pity didn’t justify what he did. “A lot of people care. You can’t just disappear like that in the middle of your show and—”

“It is Yoongi you’re texting, right?” Jungkook asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “Not someone else?”

He was probably trying to be nonchalant about it but, consciously or not, he ended up making his question unbearably obvious. The “someone else” may have been an abstract concept to outsiders – your peers, lurking by their doors and watching the argument play out through their peepholes – but you both knew whom Jungkook had in mind.

“Yes,” you said. “I was texting Yoongi. We’d agreed to let each other know if we found you.”

“Okay, good,” Jungkook said and proceeded to act like this was all a mere misunderstanding that wasn’t worth a lengthy discussion. “Can we go inside now? It’s weird to talk in the hall.”

“Are you going to tell me why you got drunk before your show?” you asked, your voice on the edge of yelling. “Or why you skipped out on the encore?”

Understanding that answering this was the one condition to enter your room, Jungkook sighed. 

He was hoping you’d come to your own conclusion about this and he could just roll with whatever you thought was the truth – that he was useless, untrustworthy, reckless, and any other thing that people regarded him as – because explaining himself meant talking about his feelings. And he was so good at pretending that he didn’t like to do that.

“Because you weren’t there,” Jungkook answered.

You couldn’t help but groan. You’d gotten so tired of his no-more-than-four-word responses to serious questions, you couldn’t hear any more of them. You hated having to ask specific questions to get him to talk when he knew very well what you wanted to know.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned irritably. “I wasn’t at your previous shows and that didn’t seem to be a problem.”

“Before—”

“Not to mention,” you continued, choosing to let it all out now that he’d shown you he wasn’t going to be completely upfront with you, “you knew where I was. We’d talked about our plans for tonight extensively, and I wasn’t supposed to hear from you until the barbecue ended and you wrapped up your show.”

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook said, his voice rushed. He didn’t want to hear any more of your accusations because he knew he would lose the battle of wits – he would have lost it on an ordinary day, but today, everything he said seemed extremely wrong. “It’s because you were with him.”

“With Namjoon?” you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.

Not liking your defensive stance, Jungkook swallowed and said slowly, “yes.”

You looked away from him then – as if you were gazing into an unseen camera and waiting for someone to yell that you’d been punk’d – your eyes losing focus.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m not,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “My own father sent me the picture.”

“The picture?” you raised your eyebrows, almost laughing. “It was just a picture of the company employees! Namjoon happened to be standing next to me. You can’t seriously be acting like that because of something as minor and irrelevant as this. I thought we’d already talked about this.”

Completely forgetting every past conversation, Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Minor and irrelevant,” he repeated, an undeniable snarl in his voice. “Is that what this is? At this point, you spend as much time with him as you do with me.”

“Why is that a problem?” you challenged. “We’d already agreed you wouldn’t do this! I am allowed to hang out with my friends. You have no reason – or no right, for that matter – to react like that. You know there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m not—”

“And I spend even more time with Inna than I do with Namjoon,” you cut him off, “why was she never an issue?”

“Oh, so, Inna, Namjoon, and I are all the same to you?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the trap he must have set for you with this question. “Yes.”

“Oh, how brilliant,” Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and turning his back to you as he spat, “your three closest friends.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

He turned around suddenly, his gaze full of blazing fire. “Do you kiss them the way you kissed me last week?”

His words seemed to punch you right in your lungs and all breath left them as you stood there, trying desperately to inhale and suddenly feeling a lot more drunk than he was, despite not having had a single drop of alcohol tonight.

“I didn’t think we were going to talk about that,” you said lamely, all conflict having left you along with your breath. It wasn’t really a response to his question but it was the best you could do when he was looking at you like that.

“We weren’t,” he said. “But only because I could see how much you didn’t want to. I could tell you were pushing me away—”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted you before you could properly interrupt him, and continued his tirade, “and I understand your reasons. I left you seven years ago and friends aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t abandon friends.”

Faced with this point-blank truth, you were forced to lower your eyes to the floor as you attempted to lie, “I-I didn’t—”

“I told you of my reasons back then,” Jungkook said, not needing your excuses. He knew what the truth was and he didn’t blame you for feeling insecure. “I wanted to keep you safe from myself. And maybe I have my reasons now, too.”

“What?” your stomach dropped. When you looked up at him again, he was already standing a few steps closer to you. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to walk away from you,” he said, spilling his next words in one single breath, “but I can’t handle just fake-dating you because the thought of someone else dating you for real, makes me want to tear the fucker up to pieces.”

You didn’t say anything, not entirely sure if you understood his speedy delivery correctly or if your heart was banging against your ribs for no reason.

“And maybe that’s why I should leave,” he spoke then, taking another step towards you and taking over your personal space not with just his words, but with his presence, too. “But we’re both adults now. I’m still learning how to properly be one, but I’d already missed one opportunity to be with you and I can’t miss another one. So, even though I should, I can’t fucking leave. I don’t want to.”

Speaking quietly, you asked, “then don’t.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lift your eyes to his and settled on watching his lips instead, which was about ten times worse, “I am—I’m in love with you and I don’t want to be the same as the rest of your friends for you. And I really don’t fucking want to be the same as Namjoon.”

“Namjoon—he drove me here,” you found yourself saying as your mind short-circuited, “to look for you. He’s kind and understanding but neither of us are interested in one another. He… I think he always knew that my heart was elsewhere.”

This time, it was Jungkook who needed a full explanation, not an off-handed excuse. “Where?”

Right here, you would have said but you chose to show him instead as you leaned in closer, removing the remaining bits of distance between you by gently touching his lips with yours.

Jungkook reacted immediately, responding to you and refusing to let you pull away by placing one of his hands on your right elbow and another one on your waist. He wasted a split-second when he pulled back to inhale, but then he made up for it by kissing you again, his lips closing against yours in a tight lip-lock.

You pulled back, however, a smacking noise echoing around the hallway as you did, whispering to him, “are you still drunk?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jungkook replied breathlessly before pressing his lips to yours again.

Kissing him back and feeling how the quick, gentle pecks turned into deep, open-mouthed kisses as his tongue caressed your lower lip before making its way into your mouth, made your mind hazy and you were forced to hold onto him tighter.

He sighed into the kiss; the feeling of you clutching the flaps of his jacket was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 

And then you let go suddenly, pulling away yet again.

“Are you going to do it again?” you asked because you had to hear him say it. “Are you going to leave? Stop talking to me?”

To be honest, Jungkook would have promised you the world in that moment. Hell, he’d have promised you the whole universe when you looked at him like that – with eyes full of need and parted lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Never,” he told you.

You seemed to read his mind. “You better not be saying that so we could keep kissing.”

He could have laughed at this if he didn’t know how much this meant to you – how much this meant to you-and-him – but he did know, and that’s why he took your hand, pulling it away from the flap of his denim jacket, and placing it squarely on his chest.

“I promise,” he said in tandem with his heartbeat.

Your lips crashed against each other again and the collision could have had painful consequences if your hands wouldn’t have been there to soften it. You held onto one another, pulling each other closer despite already touching everywhere it was possible to touch.

You could still taste the alcohol on his tongue but you could also taste him – mint and strawberries – especially when he used one of his hands to tilt your face in the right angle that allowed his tongue to play with yours. And then, as if he’d just snapped his fingers, you completely forgot about your surroundings and focused on kissing him back.

His touch ignited your skin and, as soon as he lifted the corner of your shirt and barely grazed your bare hip with the tips of his fingers, you already knew he’d started a fire you couldn’t put out.

In a rare moment when your mind cleared – all because Jungkook needed to inhale before he kissed you again – you realized that you were still in the hallway where, technically, anyone could have seen you.

Except that didn’t scare you much.

What scared you was this very realization: you wouldn’t have cared who saw you here, as long as he was still so close.

“My keys,” you whispered. He understood what you were saying – and what you implied by that – but he’d have rather been struck by lightning than voluntarily pulled away from you.

And so, forgetting your sanity for a yet another moment, you cherished in the feeling of his lips on yours, letting him push you against the wall next to your door.

Only when his body was pressed so tightly against yours that you found yourself trapped in the most delightful way possible, did you realize that this wasn’t going to be enough and you needed to leave the hallway before it escalated.

“Jungkook—” you tried again, pulling away this this time. Naturally, he lowered his head to kiss the side of your face instead, going down to your jawline and planting kisses on your neck, all while you desperately tried to find the keys in your handbag, your hands – and your entire body – shaking. “I can’t—ah, please, let me—the door—”

Jungkook would have pulled away from you if you’d asked but you weren’t asking – you didn’t want him to. And he had a hard time focusing on what you were saying anyway, especially when the beginning of his name never left the tip of your tongue.

Finally, your fingers located your keychain and pulled it out from your handbag. But blindly unlocking the door proved to be even more difficult than finding the keys.

Had you been less lost in each other, you could have stopped kissing for one minute to enter your dorm room, but any thought of disconnecting your mouths and bodies seemed ridiculous and impractical. Why would you waste your time by not kissing each other?

You managed to push the key into the lock through sheer luck, and then, hoping to open the door, you took a step forwards, away from the wall and into Jungkook – who didn’t mind being the one who held you, not letting you get too far away from him.

The speed with which you entered your room once the door was opened, would have probably knocked you both off your feet. But God favored those who were in love, and, the thing that you ended up knocking down, was just the bowl for keys that you and Inna kept by the door. You couldn’t have cared less about it – you barely even heard it clatter against the floor.

Following the invisible pull towards your bed, you and Jungkook successfully maneuvered past the door frame separating the bedroom area from the hallway, and – only stumbling once, when he pulled back to take his jacket off – you finally reached the privacy of your room.

“If you want me to stop,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he held your body against his; your bed was right behind you and you knew you’d have fallen on it with the smallest push from him, “you have to tell me now because—” he kissed you again with the same raw hunger as before, “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave otherwise.”

“No,” you breathed, matching the intensity of his kisses with your own, “don’t stop.”

And that was the permission he needed to nudge you forwards until he landed on top of you on your bed, leaning on his elbows on either side of you. It was so similar to the way you’d made out on Sunday night in his parents’ house, and yet, it was so different, too, because you were past the point of caring about any interruptions now.

If someone knocked on your door right then – if someone walked in – you wouldn’t have even flinched.

Lifting your shirt and exposing more of your skin for his impatient fingers to explore, Jungkook was forced to break the kiss again, so he could fully take the garment off. And then he had to pause again so he could take a quick breather because of how ethereal you looked like this: half-naked and daring him to keep going with your eyes.

“Jungkook,” your soft whisper brought him back to life and helped him realize that this time, he wasn’t dreaming. This time, he had you here with him.

And so, he took his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again – clumsily and sloppily – and the new feeling of his bare skin against yours was enough for you to arch your back off the bed, all so you could feel more of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed before bringing his hands up your sides and kissing down your neck. Encouraged by the sound of your whimpers when he gently brought his teeth over the spot below your collarbone, he sucked on the skin there with more force, leaving faint bruises.

Your hands slid down to his waist – reaching for the buckle of his belt – but they froze when you felt his tongue soothe over the new mark he’d made on your neck. It stung but you felt more pleasure than pain and, for a good minute, that pleasure was all you could focus on.

You felt his fingertips dance around the edge of your bra and heavy breaths left his lips when he brought his face back to yours, stopping just close enough to feel the pull of your lips, but far enough to still be able to look you in the eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, successfully undoing your bra in his first attempt – he wouldn’t have called himself an expert in that particular area; he was just determined to always get what he wanted and he wanted you.

You barely had enough time to hum in response before he lowered his face and reconnected your lips, sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders in a motion so slow, you nearly threw him off the bed and did it yourself.

Instead, you chose to concentrate on finally undoing his belt, which wasn’t going well due to how badly your hands were shaking. But, once you finally succeeded and got through to the zipper of his jeans, it seemed like Jungkook was no longer so dead-set on taking this slow, either.

“Oh,” a sigh passed your lips when he threw your bra to a side and repositioned himself in-between your legs, his hips grinding into yours in a dangerously satisfying way that only left you wanting more. “Please, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he spoke and his normally melodious voice seemed deeper now.

He placed a kiss to your lips again and then pulled away to slide your jeans down your legs, tossing them aside before bringing his hands over the bare skin of your ankles, then up your calves, over your knees, and down your thighs again.

“Jungkook,” you tried again, “do something, please.”

“Hmm,” he wasn’t entirely aware of his surroundings as he cherished in the feeling of your skin right under his fingertips. He had to touch – to feel – all of you, so every bit of your body, every crevice and every wrinkle, remembered him.

Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally reached the waistband of your panties, and Jungkook was convinced he was going to die when he took them off of you – but he didn’t mind dying in the slightest, not if he got to see you like this first.

“I’m going to make you feel so,” he said, lifting your hips off the bed—just barely—so he could slide your panties down your legs, “so good.”

And he resolved to show you that he meant it, peppering the insides of your thighs with butterfly kisses that were the complete opposite of the tight grip he had on you. 

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he felt the way your body shuddered in anticipation as his kisses neared your core and he could feel his own pants tighten uncomfortably around his now rock-hard length.

Placing a soft, chaste kiss right above your clit, Jungkook heard your deep breath and that encouraged him to keep going, applying more force to his kisses as he went lower. Finally, just as your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets underneath you, he spread your lower lips with his tongue and lightly—so lightly, that you weren’t sure you didn’t just imagine this—licked his way up to your clit.

“Oh, shit,” you threw your head back and Jungkook – who’d already proved how much positive reinforcements meant to him – released a guttural breath that vibrated against your core.

The sensation added more to the blissful feeling of his tongue as he finally flattened it against your mound, licking and sucking with a loud and sloppy slurping sound.

You gasped when the previously teasing motions increased in speed and his tongue circled around your entrance, touching and tasting you in clockwise movements, never forgetting to pay special attention to the most sensitive spots on and around your clit.

“You taste so sweet,” Jungkook spoke breathlessly and you struggled to understand him not just because of how good he was making you feel with his mouth, but also because he did not pull away far enough and his words quavered against your core. “Talk to me.”

“I-I’m—that’s good,” you tried to say but your head was spinning, “so good, you—oh! Oh, fuck, Jungkook!”

Almost screaming out in surprise, you felt his fingers against your core, gentle and careful for the first second, but eager and energetic the next as Jungkook explored the wetness around your entrance. Bringing his tongue over your clit, he slid two of his fingers inside, ready to stop and wait for your reaction but that was not needed.

Arching your back off the bed, you sighed deeply and pleaded far louder than you’d intended, “p-please—”

Smirking to himself as you struggled to finish your sentences, he sped up his movements, not giving you a moment to collect your breath as he rubbed the insides of your walls with his fingers and sucked on your clit, the slow movements of his tongue contrasting with how quickly he was moving inside of you.

“Good girl,” he said, his hot breath against your core making your whole body tingle. He felt one of your hands touch his hair, grabbing onto it; softly at first, but gradually pulling harder when the circling motions of his fingers sped up. “Are you close, baby? Tell me.”

You were close – and the pet name only increased the burning pleasure inside of you – but, at that point, you were only capable of moaning weakly, “hmmm, yes. Don’t stop, please, d-don’t—”

Gasping again as Jungkook removed his mouth from you, readjusting himself on the bed so he could move his fingers in and out of you quicker, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to keep your sounds to a minimum.

“Nngh—so close,” you spoke and just then, you felt his thumb rub vicious circles on your clit. The motion was so delicious, you were forced to abandon your attempts to stay quiet, almost shouting when you felt your walls tighten, already so close to your edge.

He could feel you clench around his fingers – a feeling that did no good to the painful hardness in his pants – and applied more force to his movements, maintaining the same speed that allowed him to pay equal attention to your swollen clit and the soft walls inside of you.

“Come for me,” he said, his voice coarse. “I want to watch you come for me, baby, please.”

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groaned, barely able to catch your breath as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, circling and curling them in a way that was just right, until the knot in your stomach unraveled with a pop so strong, your whole body seemed to lift up from the bed as you whimpered, unable to make any other noise.

Watching you lose control of your body, Jungkook used his free hand to hold you down as he kept the pace up with his fingers while you rode out your high. Barely any sound left your mouth when you reached your peak but your heavy breaths and the rise and fall of your chest as you came still overflooded his senses.

Jungkook didn’t think it was healthy to need someone this much.

When you opened your eyes a moment later, still breathing heavily, he was hovering above you, leaning on one arm as he sucked on his fingers, exhaling shakily when you bit your lip.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you here like this,” he said, “how long I’ve wanted to hear you sound like this.”

Still overwhelmed and momentarily rendered speechless by the strength of your climax, you replied to him by sitting up so you could reach his lips with yours.

Kissing him – and hearing him growl into the kiss as soon as your hips pressed into his, adding pressure against his hard length – you could distinctly taste yourself on his tongue, but Jungkook wasn’t going to give you a lot of time to analyze all the different sensations you were feeling; he flipped you over until he was on his back, and you were straddling his hips.

Being on top of him gave you a lot more control of the situation, but it also made the shaking of your hands all the more obvious. You lifted yourself off him slightly to slide his jeans and boxers down, not bothering with teasing him – even though, that would have been the fair thing to do, considering how slowly he’d undressed you before.

He didn’t regret that one bit – that was plain obvious in the darkness of his lustful eyes that followed your every move – but he did wish you went a little faster because each brush of your hands right by his length made him think he was going to explode.

“There’s a condom,” he said, swallowing, “in the pocket of my jacket.”

You had to look around the room to find the jacket and, when you located it, it still took you a few minutes to get the glittering wrapper out. Biting your lip as you made your way back to Jungkook – sprawled almost helplessly on your bed – you couldn’t help yourself.

“Do you always carry condoms around in the pocket of your—”

“No,” he replied, obviously not very interested in discussing his condom-bearing habits when you were unwrapping the packaging with your teeth after your fingers weren’t enough.

“Ah, so today was a special occasion?” you asked, smiling teasingly because your heart wasn’t really in this conversation, either – you could analyze why he’d brought the condoms with him later.

Unrolling some of the latex in your hands, your fingers finally touched his length as you pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his shaft. Jungkook exhaled with a low grunt, not particularly enjoying himself in a position this vulnerable – he didn’t think the simple act of putting a condom on had ever aroused him this much before – but not being able to do anything about it because this was you.

And if you wanted to take your time with the condom – since you seemed to double-check to make sure if it was really properly on; he thought you were just teasing him, really – then, he was going to let you take your time.

For the first twenty seconds, anyway.

Just as you raised your eyes to meet his, Jungkook sat up and pulled you closer to him, only lying back down on the bed when he made sure his arms were wrapped around your body, which was pressed against his as tightly as he could manage without breaking any of your ribs with his arms.

“If I wait any longer,” he whispered, his mouth so close to yours, you could almost taste him as he spoke, “I’m really going to pass out.”

“Well,” you said, your heart beating wildly behind your ribcage and echoing against his chest, “then don’t wait.”

“Fuck,” was the last word that left his mouth before he connected your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss and sat up a bit to reach his length with his hand and position himself at your entrance. “Tell me if you want me to stop.

“Mmhmm—oh,” your hum of approval was quick to turn into a shaky gasp as his length slid inside of you, stretching you out far more than his fingers had before.

He watched your facial expression the whole time, entering you slowly, inch by inch, so he could stop if he noticed any pain. Mercifully, the only thing he noticed in your eyes was a silent plea to keep going – well, that, and the fact that you did most of the job for him by lowering yourself on him until he was fully inside of you – and Jungkook was sure of it: he was most certainly going to lose it.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned breathlessly, “you’re s-so tight—you feel so good—I—”

His grip on you had loosened, which allowed you to place one hand on his chest and push him into the bed, until his head landed back on the pillow. As soon as he bottomed out inside of you, he stopped and you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing for a second, before you looked up at him again and lifted your hips.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook whispered, his hands clutching your hips so tightly, he was probably going to leave imprints there.

Lowering yourself on him again, you sighed deeply, unsure what brought you more pleasure – the sight of his starved gaze and swollen lips as he allowed you to set the pace, or the feeling of his length, caressing your inner walls and reaching places so deep inside of you, you could have used a warning.

“Y-you’re so—mm, good,” you mewled, your hips rising and falling on top of him as you tried to get used to the feeling but failed, your walls clenching around him each time you moved.

“Baby,” Jungkook said and it was almost a whine, “I need you to go faster. Can you do that for me?”

“Hmm,” you weren’t sure what he was saying.

Your senses were malfunctioning as you lost yourself in the feeling, so, instead of going faster, you lowered yourself until you could feel your walls hug his entire length. You stayed still for a moment, but hearing him sigh in desperation, you finally started to move again – grinding your hips against his quicker.

“O-oh,” the sudden change of pace took him off guard as Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him was pure bliss. “That’s good. Y-you’re doing so good.”

You continued to move on top of him, grinding your hips in large and smaller figure-eights, as Jungkook slid his hands up and down your sides, feeling your silky skin and gently kneading your breasts. He brought his fingertips over your sensitive nipples and, noticing how your breath got caught in your throat as soon as he did, he applied more pressure to his touch.

“Jungkook,” you said weakly and then completely lost your voice when he sat up – suddenly reaching even deeper inside of you, even though that probably shouldn’t have even been possible – and brought his tongue to your nipple, carefully toying with it at first, and then sucking harder later.

Your hips were still moving against his but you were losing your stamina, not at all helped by the fact that his smallest touch nearly tipped you over the edge.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sighed and, somewhere in his own name, he heard the request for him to take over.

Fully immersed in the feeling of having you on top of him, Jungkook had no plans to change the position. He pulled away from your breasts, licking his lips, and then, finding a more fitting position on the bed, he locked both of your arms behind you by wrapped a hand around your waist and lifting his hips off the mattress.

He roughly thrust into you once – and then once more because he couldn’t stop himself – and then paused to gauge your reaction. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed, but your parted lips and the excited movement of your hips as they met his when he moved, was a clear indication that you didn’t mind the faster pace.

“Look at me,” he instructed, not moving until you did. “Good girl.”

Finally, he slammed his hips into yours again, this time not pausing for a single second, even though both of you were completely breathless already. His length drilled into you, rubbing your walls until the fire in your stomach started to spread and you involuntarily closed your eyes again, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook—”

“What did I tell you, baby?” he asked, holding your hands behind your back with one of his arms, as he used his other hand to bring your face to his again. You opened your eyes. “That’s it. Are you close?”

“Hmm—I-I’m—” the next words didn’t come out when Jungkook straightened his posture and thrust into you with enough force to send you backwards until you were laying flat on your back again. “Fuck, I’m really close.”

His hips continued the relentless pace but he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going, especially with the way you squeezed around him each time he re-entered your warmth. You could already feel your orgasm creeping in as you bit your lip and felt your vision go out of focus, the ceiling of your room spinning as the whole place seemed to shake from the force of his hips.

“Don’t look away,” Jungkook spoke, breathing heavily and setting himself up for failure because he nearly collapsed as soon as you returned your eyes to his – all dark and clouded with near-euphoric delight. “I want you to look at me when you come, yeah? Will you do that for me, baby—please?”

“Y-yes—” you managed, barely getting the word out before you felt Jungkook readjust his weight by leaning on one arm and lowering his other one to your core.

He brought his thumb over your clit and, matching the speed of his hips thrusting in and out of you, he began to rub circles on your already over-stimulated center.

“Jungkook!” you weren’t sure if you were screaming, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears as you felt yourself tip over the edge. “Oh, fuck, fuck—right there!”

“Y-yeah? Does that feel good, baby?,” he groaned, “I can’t hold out for much longer, so I’m going to need you to come for me. Hmm?”

“I’m—please, fuck—” your pleas turned into an incomprehensible mess when Jungkook applied more pressure to your clit, flicking it before rubbing it in circles again, and you were completely done for.

Throwing your head back against the mattress and lifting your hips to meet his, you reached your high and Jungkook – cursing and trying his hardest not to lose his balance – bit his lip because he knew he was going to follow right after you.

His hips had slowed, although only a little, as he continued the assault on your senses by thrusting his throbbing member into you and simultaneously rubbing your clit all through your orgasm. 

Your warm walls that hugged his length tightened around him when you came and, groaning loudly, he felt his own climax take over him. He stopped moving with one final thrust into you, loud grunts mixed with your name leaving his lips as he released himself into the condom.

Breathing heavily but still not getting enough oxygen, you both stayed still as you tried to recover.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook exhaled when he regained some control of his body. His eyes met yours and he did not hesitate before adding, “I love you. I’ve loved you for so fucking long.”

You allowed a heavy moment of silence to pass as you watched him. Then, you propped yourself up on your elbows and brought your lips to his. The kiss may have been less enthusiastic than the one in the hallway earlier tonight, but it still didn’t lack any heat.

“I love you,” you replied, the words as pointless as they were necessary, because your feelings for each other had been obvious from the very beginning, but neither of you confronted them. “I’ve loved you for much longer.”

“No,” he disagreed, kissing you again as he pulled out of you and rolled off to the edge of the bed so he could discard of the condom. Turning to look at you one more time before standing up, he said, very matter-of-fact, “I’ve loved you my whole life. Through every happy moment and every fuck-up, and every—”

With your lips stretching into a smile, you warned, “don’t try to one-up me with your pillowtalk.”

He already had his back turned to you as he walked towards the bin in the corner of your room, but you heard him laugh. When he turned around to return to you, there was a wide smile on his bright, red lips, still wet and swollen from kissing you.

“That’s not pillowtalk,” he countered, laying down next to you and draping an arm over your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck with a delighted hum, “that’s just me telling you what I was supposed to tell you on the day I talked to you at my party.”

“I’m glad you told me now,” you replied, lifting one of your hands to touch his disheveled hair and the few stray curls that were stuck to his sweaty forehead, “even if you did cause a scene today.”

The softness of your touch was almost the exact opposite of the hidden razor-sharp meaning behind your words. Jungkook – who’d closed his eyes so he could breathe you in – suddenly lifted himself up on his elbows and gave you an inquiring look.

“I did not cause a scene,” he said, not in a very defensive manner because he did not think he needed to defend himself, “I was peacefully waiting for you to come back home. You caused a scene when you saw me.”

“I—oh, wow,” you scoffed in surprise, “you really are an expert at blame-shifting.”

He would have protested – and he was going to – but laying here next to you, with not a single piece of clothing preventing him from feeling the softness of your skin, he just shrugged. There were far more important things to focus on, he decided as he traced indiscernible patterns on your navel.

“Don’t do that again, though, okay?” you asked him then.

Smiling – because he was proud of his title as the resident Little Shit – Jungkook replied, “which part, exactly?”

The feeling of his fingertips dancing on your stomach was distracting, but you persevered for the greater good.

“Don’t change all of your plans if I spend time with someone else,” you said, swallowing. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t.”

His promise was brief but he leaned down to kiss you to seal it, and the feeling of his lips against yours had more impact than just his words alone. Then, pulling away a moment too soon, Jungkook surprised you with a warning look in his eyes.

“But don’t ask me not to kiss you in public,” he said. “Don’t ask me not to hold your hand. Don’t—”

You blinked, not following him. “W-wait, why? I wasn’t going to ask.”

“No, but you already did. At the last party we went to?” he said and then tried to jog your memory by adding, in a vexed tone, “when you were talking to Brock, and I—”

The party – and the long, long conversation that followed – returned to your mind even before the mention of Brock. You were just trying to understand why Jungkook was thinking about all of that now.

“Well, that’s because you were being a possessive dipshit,” you told him as an explanation, not an excuse.

You weren’t apologizing for standing up for yourself when you felt like your dignity was threatened, and he didn’t need you to. What he needed, was for you to understand that:

“I still am a possessive dipshit,” he said with the most unapologetic grin you’d ever seen adorning his features.

“Oh, yeah?” you raised your eyebrows, the mock-surprise completing your sarcastic look, “would not have guessed.”

“Funny,” he leaned down to kiss you again before making it clear, “I can’t stop myself from wanting everyone to know—”

“But they do know,” you said, cutting him off but not sharply, “everyone knows, Jungkook. You’ve made your point.”

“No, people still have doubts about us,” he said, “they’re still not fully convinced that you’re—that we’re together,” he paused, flashing back to the night at the party and remembering the words you’d said to him then, “but they don’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about us. And I don’t want to imply that I own you or that you’re an object—or anything of the sort. I know you’re a person. You’re a great person. And you belong to yourself. You’re yours. B-but can you be a little bit mine, too?”

“I am,” you said and, even though you may not have always liked it, this was the truth. There was no way around it. So, pressing a soft kiss to his waiting lips, you admitted, “I’ve always been yours as much as I’ve been mine.”

keep reading | masterlist

[norarigby]

Nights

Pairing: StreetRacer!Hawks x fem!reader

Warnings: a bit of suggestive content (17+)

Word count: ~1.3k

A/n: Whew, got carried away with this one. But I’m kind of in love with this AU. Also, I listened to Shut Up and Drive by Rihanna and Everybody Loves Me by OneRepublic while writing this. Could be interesting to listen while reading? Anyway, enjoy!

Saturdays.

Saturdays were your favorite.

It started back in your junior year of high school. Your now ex-boyfriend was a street racer by night and begged you for weeks and weeks to come to a race with him. You honestly didn’t see the appeal, especially since he drove a Kia Forte—a nice car, but not really “street racing” material. Eventually, you gave in and promised one race.

Boy, did you regret not going with him sooner.

Because when he pulled up with his Subaru Impreza decked with a holographic wrap, LEDs, and a 300hp engine, you knew he meant business.

Even after you broke it off with him, you still had pretty good ties in that community. So, every Saturday night continued to be racing night. You definitely didn’t participate, but every once in a while, you’d sweet talk some racer in letting you sit shotgun with them. The thrill and danger of the ride always enticed you and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Even more rare would be the nights you got to play flag girl. It wasn’t your favorite, but after a lot of convincing and a couple shots, you would eventually give in.

It looked like tonight was going to be one of those nights.

“Come onnnn, y/n!” Mimiko whined as she pulled on your arm, “It’ll be funnnn! And you know the boys loooove it when you do it!”

You and Mimiko had agreed to go out for a few drinks before tonight. She promised she wouldn’t get more than tipsy so you wouldn’t have to babysit her again. Obviously, that plan was working phenomenally.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine. But only if you don’t touch another drink tonight unless it’s water, got it?”

“Y/nnnnn!” Mimiko’s face lit up and she bounced up and down in her seat, “I promise! I’ll text Ichiro and let him know you’ll do it!”

You were already regretting agreeing to it. But Mimiko was excited and you’d do anything to keep her from getting completely wasted—you did not want to repeat last week. You ordered one more shot to calm your nerves then texted Kaito to come pick you two up.

The shot did not, in fact, help your nerves. If anything, they got worse the closer you got. You drummed your fingers against the armrest to try to sooth your anxiety. You’re not really sure why, being the flag girl wasn’t hard per se. But there was a definite expectation. Flag girls started the race, yes, but they also had to get the boys excited. And that took a certain....flair you definitely didn’t have.

Regardless of how you felt, you agreed to this. And if street racers were anything, it would be stubborn. Didn’t matter what it was, they held you to your word and would not let you back down. So you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

You don’t need to be the most confident, gorgeous girl there, some old advice echoed in your mind. You just need to convince them you are.

When you opened your eyes again, the car had arrived at its location. Kaito and Mimiko got out and immediately dispersed to go talk with others who had arrived early. You touched up some of your makeup, took another deep breath, then exited the car.

“Daaaamn, d’you come with someone tonight or can I have you to myself?” A voice sounded from behind you.

You turned to your caller. Comments like these weren’t rare amongst this crowd. You get used to them after a while. What you needed to figure out was whether or not it would be worth it to indulge.

And indulge you would.

The man that stood in front of you looked a few years older than who you would normally see at races. But that didn’t make him any less attractive. His entire demeanor screamed effortlessness and inflated ego. From his windswept blond hair to the tan leather jacket swung over his shoulder, he dripped with charm and swagger. He had an athletic build with an average height—although, he was leaning on the adjacent car, so it was hard to tell. Though the most striking feature was his eyes. They were this light golden brown that glinted in the street lights. They held yours in a gaze that took your breath away.

Oh yeah, he was definitely worth it.

Leaning against the door and crossing you ankles, you finally answered, “That depends. Is that your car?”

He glanced at the car he was leaning on, “The Mitsubishi? I wouldn’t bring this to race with if it were the last car on Earth.”

“So you’re one of the racers for tonight then?”

“That’s right,” He unwrapped a sucker and stuck it in his mouth, rolling to to the side with his tongue, “Name’s Hawks, by the way.”

Giving him another once over, you decided you give your newfound confidence a test drive. You walked over and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Well, Hawks, I’ll make you a deal. Win this race, and I’m all yours tonight.”

His hands ghosted at your waist as he took in a sharp breath, “Is that right? Then I’ll see you at the finish line, in first, of course.”

You finally pulled back, glancing at the white stick in between his lips. Bringing one hand up, you plucked the candy from his mouth and placed it into your own. His eyes widened as you took a step back, “Can’t wait.”

As you walked away, your mind was screaming at you. Where in hell did that come from? Either way, call it a massive ego boost. You felt like you were on cloud nine as you walked over to Mimiko. You joked and flirted with a couple people you knew. Every once in a while, your eyes would flit over to the blond to take him in again. He was addicting. And you couldn’t wait to be his for the night.

Eventually, 12:00 rolled around and it was your time to shine. By then, you’d definitely relaxed enough and you were gonna have some fun—especially now that you’d gotten under one of the racer’s skin.

As you strutted between the cars, onlookers wolf whistled and shouted colorful comments. You approached the first driver and blew them a kiss. This prompted a wild response from the audience. Feeling more confident, you approached the second driver and kissed him on the cheek. Even as the crowd roared again, you knew this last car was going to be your favorite. You sauntered to the driver, who already was partially leaning out his window. Hawks was drinking in every step you took and was practically salivating.

You leaned down to meet him at eye level, “Don’t get too distracted, pretty boy. It’d be a shame to see you lose.” With your index finger, you traced along his jawline until you reached his chin, tilting it upwards.

He smirked, “I don’t lose.”

Hawks grabbed your wrist and kissed your hand. Flustered by the sudden action, you stood up fully. You finally became aware of the hush that had fallen over the crowd, a few whispers shared here and there. snapping out of your daze, you blew a kiss and a wink, finalizing your interaction with the attractive racer for now.

You returned to the raised makeshift platform by the first car. With the megaphone in one had and the flag in the other, you shouted, “Alright, boys, you know the rules. Play nice and may the fastest car win. Start your engines!”

All three revved their engines and everyone erupted in excitement.

“On your mark! Get set!” You sent a wink to Hawks, “Go!”

As the flag fell, the cars sped off in the night. They’d return in about 15-20 minutes. Until then, people would finalize their bets and drink while they waited for the cars to wind the corner.

You leaned against the streetlight next to the platform, eyes glued to that corner. Your stomach fluttered as it recalled Hawks’ confidence about winning and your mind couldn’t help but wander to the other things he would be confident about.

You smiled, tonight was definitely going to be interesting.

(Posted January 1st, 2021, 11:45PM MST)

[shannendoherty-fans]

TV Guide, February 13, 1988

No Sassing Grandpa!

Our House's Shannen Doherty, 16, is concerned about her character's behaviour–and its impact on viewers.

By Helen Newton.

Shannen Doherty hunches over her high-school algebra textbook, reluctantly penciling problems in her least-favorite subject. Her teacher hovers over her. The two are alone in a small, dingy trailer that, despite a tacked-up poster and a forlorn bit of artwork, lloks nothing like school. This is the location classroom for NBC's Our House, whose three child stars (Shannen, 16, Chad Allen, 13, and Keri Houlihan, 12) are legally bound to squeeze three hours of daily lessons between scenes.

"It must be difficult," comments a visitor to the teacher, "going to school like this, all alone,no friends, no football games . . . ."

"Are you kidding?" interrupts the teacher. "They love it. What kid in his right mind wouldn't trade six hours in school day after day for this?" She gestures broadly at the controlledhubbub that fills the city park around her.

Just then an assistant director knocks on the door. "Time to get ready, hannen," he calls, and the actress, saved from solving for "x," bounces happily down the steps of the schoolroom, up the steps of her dressing room and into a costumer's impossibly conservative version of a punker's get-up.

Shannen's character, Kris Witherspoon, normally tends toward preppier attire–she does have her heart set on attending the Air Force Academy–but in this episode, she's trying to teach her crusty grandfather, Gus (played by Wilford Brimley), not to judge people ony by appearance. In Our House, one resident or another learns something uplifting every week.

"With our audience [young teens and families], I think we have a responsibility to set good examples," Shannen says earnestly. "There are drugs and so many other things that kids can get into trouble with that Ithink, if we can help, we should." But then good examples seem to come as naturally to Shannen as they do to Kris. Earlier this season, for example, she confronted a script that had Kris casually mentioning condoms. "It wasn't important to the plot. It was just a casual thing," says Shannen, her cheeks hinting at a blush. "I was uncomfortable with it and I thought Kris would be too, so I asked if they would take it out." They did. And Shannen tells of a scene in the episode being shot today that called for her to scream angrily at her grandfather. "I don't think Kris would sass her grandfather. She's let him know she was angry, but she'd be more respectful." Out came the sass.

Shannen doesn't believe in sassing her mother either, though she has ample opportunity: Rosa Doherty is with Shannen every day, all day, beginning with the hour's drive from their San Fernando Valley home. California law requires the presence of a parent or guardian until a child actor reaches 16, but Shannen, who will turn 17 in April, has asked her mother to stay on for at least another two years.

They're close, these two. "My mom's my friend," says Shannen unaffectedly, and you believe her. The two share a lot–beyond a mutual enthusiasm for Laura Ashley wallpaper, animals and their Baptist church, there's obviously their dedication to Shannen's career.

Rosa watches over Shannen carefully–what ordinary mother can confer with her child's teacher several times a day?–and she adamantly opposes allowing her daughter to work longer than the 10 1/2 hours required daily. But when Shannen is busy, Rosa finds plenty to occupy herself. Everyone on the set knows her: she joshes with the costumer, the hairdresser, the other children's mothers. She lays plans with Shannen's publicist and manager. And she readies Shannen's fan mail so Shannen can answe ir. ("A lot of kids ask me for advice," Shannen says. "Kris is so together that naturally she'd know what to do. Meanwhile, I look at the mail and think, 'Oh, no, what do I say?´")

But Shannen does know what to say–like the time two years ago at the beginning of ninth grade when she announced to her mother that she wanted to go to school like a regular kid. "It was the beginning of high school, and I wanted to get situated," she says. One semester was enough, however. "There are plenty of kids around work for me to be friends with," she says, when asked whether she misses the social experiences of high school. "There are Chad and Keri, and on the Lorimar lot there are the kids from Valerie's Family. And I met my boy friend"–she says this slihtly shyly, as if unaccustomed to the term–"on the set of Max Headroom." (Since then, Shannen has decided to attend school in her senior year. She plans to fit her TV work around her academic schedule.)

The next week, the next episode, the next location–this time 40 miles north of Los Angeles on the woodsy shores of a lake. It's lunch time; long tables are set up above the lake and Keri trails Shannen around and between them as they play with the two assistant directors' walkie-talkies. Shannen's handle in this game is "Sugarplum," a nickname some of the truckers who worked for her grandfather in Memphis called her when she was little. The assistant directors look benignly, almost paternally, on.

"We feel lucky," says Rosa. "This show is like family. The crew is great. And Wilford really cares about people." Although Brimley refused to talk about his young colleague, citing a dislike of publicity, Shannen and Rosa say the show's star is generous in other ways. They've been guests at his Utah ranch. Shannen, sharing Brimley's interest in horses, bought one from him two years ago, though she's since sold it back to him. "It was a quarter horse,and I'm more interested in Thorough-breds," she says. And Brimley takes a deep interest in the health of Shannen's father, Tom, who, like Brimley, is a diabetic.

The week before, at the city-park location, Tom had shown up, clearly almost as at home on the set as Rosa. "Everyone loves my dad," says Shannen. "He likes to cook, and sometimes he brings food for the crew."

Belying his hearty appearance now, Tom Doherty suffered a stroke in 1983. Although Tom says it was the best thing that ever happened to him because it forced him to slow down, Rosa says, "It was very hard on the famiy, but we got through it as a family. the children came to occupational theraphy with us so they could understand and support the process." Shannen adds, "I used to draw him a picture every day and hang them all around. It cheered him up. It was pretty scary, seeing him not able to do a child's sorting game." Now almost completely recovered, Tom says, "I have an easy job that allows me to do things like stop by the set occasionally and spend more time with our son, Sean." Sean, 20, is ambitious, too,but his area is politics. A conservative, he's actively involved in his local Youth Republicans group. In 1986, he was elected a GOP official in Los Angeles. "Our son needs attention, too," Tom says, 2and sometimes his mother doesn't have time."

Rosa's timefirst became a rare commodity when Shannen was 10 years old. Over her mother's initial objections, Shannen became active in a children's theater company, where she was spotted by an agent. He arranged an autition for the role of Drucilla Shannon in Father Murphy. "It was like fate, because I have this lucky doll named Drucilla and my name is Shannen and I was determined to work with Michael Landon [creator of Father Murphy]," Shannen recalls. Drucilla the doll went along on the audition, though she stayed in the car, and sure enough, Shannen got the part. She also won the continuing interest of Michael Landon, who cast her in Little House: A New Beginning and in an epiode of Highway to Heaven.

"I'd like to work with her again sometime if she's available," comments Landon. "She's got a good head on her shoulders. She's very conscientious and determined." Those qualities were, in fact, what drew him to her when Shannen was a 10-year-old. "Even then you could see that she treated this as a business. She really wanted the job for herself. It was not a case of a parent wanting a show-business career fora child, which is often the case. I'm very proud of her."

William Blinn, co-executive producer of Our House, echoes Landon's thoughts. "Shannen is like her character. She's a very dedicated kid." With the show now in its second season, Blinn hopes the work will continue to be there for her. Our House has the unenviable task of taking on CBS's warhorse 60 Minutes. "It's counter-programming to the max," says Blinn of his show's effort to attract a young audience. And so, while the ratings have not been spectacular (the highest so far this season was 14.5), Blinn says NBC is pleased to be a solid second in its time period.

Whether the show has a long run or not, Shannen intends to. Like Kris, she has goals in mind, and if co-star Deidre Hall (Shannen's TV mom, Jessie) is right, "she'll get anything she sets her mind on." With her manager and her mother, she's looking into various film and TV projects. "I plan to get into feature films and eventually to direct," Shannen says confidently.

A visitor asks her what sort of actress she sees herself becoming in the future–the next Ally Sheedy, perhaps, or Molly Ringwald?

"The next Shannen Doherty! I'm one of a kind," she declares boldly, then lapses into a self-conscious giggle. "Really," she says, more seriously, "the person I try to model myself on is Katharine Hepburn. She's really into her work."

But before stardom, there's college. A California university makes the most sense if she wants to work at the same time, Shannen says, but there's still something about the sound of Harvard, Princeton or Yale. . . .

"Really?" says her teacher later. "That's ambitious. She'd better get to work on that math."

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Protective Baku, Soft Baku, Stargazing

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Minor content warning for (discussions of) self-esteem issues. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

“Bakugou.”

With an absent hum, Bakugou turns the page, squints, scribbles down a line in his neat, tight handwriting. A piece of black fabric separates his hand from the paper, the same wrapped around his pen, too.

Kirishima leans forward, over his own book-and-notepad combination dotted with scrawled comments and colorful post-it notes. It’s been an hour since any of it has made sense to him.

“Bakuuu. C’mon.”

A sigh, annoyed. Another line is added. Then: “The fuck d’you want?”

It takes a few seconds until the silence has stretched enough for Bakugou to look up and into Kirishima’s pleading eyes. Bakugou’s expression barely changes beyond a raised brow, unimpressed. It’s the one reserved for when Kirishima’s being especially dense – slightly more severe than muttered curses and slightly less so than that God-help-me roll of his eyes he premiered during their last study session.

Which was yesterday. Kirishima would be proud of unlocking a new Angry Bakugou Face in record time… if U.A.’s grumpiest genius wasn’t the only thing standing between him and a frankly impressive row of failed grades.

Final’s Week is brutal, even for heroes-in-training. Especially for heroes-in-training. So: Desperate times, desperate measures.

“Slap me”, Kirishima tells Bakugou, hushed in their corner of the library. “As hard as you possibly can.”

The arch of Bakugou’s brow climbs higher, utterly devastating in its wordless criticism. He says, “What”, tone Aizawa-levels of flat, and it’s not a question. It’s a command: Explain or else.

Kirishima is in no state to resist. The confession bubbles out of him in a whiny rush.

“Dude, I slept like… zero hours last night ‘cause Kami got Pokémon Colosseum – y’know, the reboot? So cool – and we kinda lost track of time. I know, I know, it was a stupid idea, I swear it was an honest mistake!”

Bakugou continues to stare as he puts down his pen and wipes his palms on the edge of his shirt. Kirishima ducks his head, hiding behind the limp strands of his hair.

“Don’t look at me like that, man. I’m seriously about two minutes from passing out here and there’s like a hundred pages of this thing I haven’t read yet, let alone understood, and oh shit Mic will hand me my ass with words tomorr–”

It all happens so quickly: Kirishima catches a blur of motion headed his way and squeaks; his skin hardens about half-way before there’s sparks and his cheek smarts, and a hissed “Motherfucker” sounds right in front of him.

The sharp slap! noise registers only after the fact, when Kirishima holds his face and Bakugou holds his hand and they both stare at each other in mutual bafflement as their skin turns red with the impact.

That moment is like glue, clear and sticky as it extends past its natural limit – then Bakugou snorts and starts to laugh, a cackling hyena-laugh that Kirishima’s never heard in full and certainly not like this, loud and unrestrained, and all hopes of holding back his own laughter is lost as he cracks up, too.

They laugh and laugh, until Kirishima’s stomach starts to cramp up and there’s the sheen of tears in Bakugou’s eyes. “Your f-fucking face”, Bakugou wheezes at some point. “Fucking bastard, you almost broke my hand! With your fucking face!”

All it does is send them into another round of hysterics.

At some point, Kirishima glimpses some of their classmates poke their head around the bookshelves secluding their study corner from the rest of the library, faces ranging from exasperated to deeply disturbed. There’s Ashido, giggling at the sight of both of them bent over and struggling to get some sort of grip, and Kaminari, who just mumbles “What the hell, guys” while straddling the line between sleep-deprived and intensely fascinated by what he’s seeing.

And hey, at least Kirishima’s really freaking awake now. There’s the problem of trying and failing to breathe without dying, his face helplessly flushed and sweating, but the world’s colors are back to being bright and sharp. Across from him, Bakugou isn’t faring much better, shaking his head and the back of his hand covering the broad smile he can’t seem to get rid of.

“Fuck you, you stupid, moronic idiot. For fuck’s sake, Kirishima.”

Kirishima rubs at his chest, the ache in his lungs starting to lessen now that he’s marginally back in control. “I’m so sorry but like”, he waves at himself and he can’t help his grin despite the stinging protest coming from his cheek. “Thanks, dude!”

“Eat a dick.” There’s no bite whatsoever in Bakugou’s grumbling as he sits back down and digs his nose into his book once more, thoroughly ignoring their flabbergasted audience.

After a moment of pantomiming what amounts to I’ll tell you later to their friends, Kirishima joins him, ready to tackle the final boss that is the English language.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥 )

yo nitro (sent 17:48)

where u at? (sent 17:48)

-

why (received 17:52)

-

why what 🤔 (sent 17:53)

OH uh to hang out? (sent 17:55)

dw dude it’s just me (sent 17:55)

-

[location] (received 18:10)

-

bakugou katsuki what are you doing in the middle of the woods??? (sending…)

NO WAY (sending…)

signal’s gone AGAIN i’m going feral (sending…)

screw it (sending…)

*

The GPS signal craps out twice more before Kirishima heaves himself onto the edge of a cliff and spots a familiar silhouette. Sheltered by a bend in the rock bed, the glow of a fire illuminates a backpack set aside, a pair of discarded hiking boots – and Bakugou, leaning against solid stone with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Took ya long enough”, he says, the lazy smirk on his lips cut in flickering shadows.

“Listen.” Kirishima wipes beads of perspiration off his temple; a spontaneous rock-climbing session by the last light of day is not what he had hoped for after hours of exhaustive quirk training. “We already have a perfectly good camp. There’s, like, leftover curry and hot springs and stuff down there.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Yeah. And a bunch of extras.”

There’s an exasperated reply on his tongue – They’re called classmates, genius. Y’know, friends? – but Kirishima knows it’s pointless to even start that debate. He snipes him with his sweaty headband instead, celebrating his own marksmanship when it hits Bakugou square in the chest with a wet thwap.

“Wha– Shitty Hair!”

“You made me climb this stupid cliff in the middle of the night. Deal with it.”

Bakugou just throws it back, the force of an explosion propelling the thing past Kirishima’s shoulder and off the mountain entirely. Kirishima watches singed white fabric disappear into the abyss, bidding it goodbye with a somber salute.

“Well, that’s lame.”

“You’re lame, fuckface.”

“Bro.”

Shaking his head, Kirishima laughs and joins him by the fire.

It’s quiet for a bit while he gets comfy and Bakugou throws a chunk of wood into the flames, sparks bursting into life immediately. This far up, the air feels… brittle, in a way, thin and cold enough Kirishima wouldn’t have been surprised to see his breath mist. The breeze ruffles the crowns of the trees around them, the rush of rustling leaves in the distance strangely soothing.

Bakugou’s gaze is lost in the night sky when he starts to speak. “Been thinking of borrowing my parents’ car and driving out here by myself. Y’know, once I got my license and shit. ‘s got some good trails, people were talking ‘bout it on those shitty hiking forums. Forums, like we’re in the fucking 2000s.”

His elbows on his knees and his head propped on his hands, Kirishima hums and looks up as well. The moon is a thin island of white in an ocean of indigo blue growing steadily darker, a myriad of stars coming out to keep her company. “Yeah?”

“Mh”, Bakugou makes around a soft breath. “Guess they’re all shit out of luck though ‘cause it’s the personal playground of pro heroes, apparently. It’s a miracle none of our idiots got fucking lost coming out here.”

‘Our idiots’, huh? Kirishima nudges his chin lower and into his palms to hide his smile. “Kinda far of a trip to make just for some hiking, isn’t it?”

A casual shrug, followed by a nod upwards. “Not for this. The lodge is the only structure for miles in any direction and even with us here, it’s got fuck all on an entire city. Get it?”

“Yeah! No light pollution, right?”

“Yup”, Bakugou confirms, popping the ‘p’. A small grin is shot Kirishima’s way, teasing rather than mocking. “What’s this, huh? Don’t tell me you paid attention in fucking physics after all.”

Kirishima breathes an offended huff, mock-hurt.

“Pshh, please. Y’know how everyone has that one niche thing they randomly obsessed over as a kid? That was me with astronomy. Back in Middle School I had like, a huge model of all the planets in my room and my favorite constellations mapped across the ceiling with those glow-in-the-dark stars. Years of useless knowledge, all stored right here.”

Kirishima’s thumb taps his forehead as he smiles at Bakugou; Bakugou’s lips pull into a smile of his own, small but there. When he turns back to the stars, Kirishima does the same, sighing wistfully.

“If Thirteen’s class were just about that I’d freaking ace it, dude. I get that I’m kinda dumb with literally anything else, but space is my jam. Did you know that–”

“You’re not.”

The train of thought Kirishima was about to gleefully jump onto screeches to a halt. “…huh?”

Bakugou frowns at him. “You’re not”, a vague wave in his general direction, “stupid or whatever.”

Perhaps the dumbfounded blinking Kirishima’s doing in response is already enough to prove Bakugou wrong on that. Still, Kirishima sits up a bit straighter, eyebrows pulling together tightly.

“Um. I appreciate you saying that, bro, but I’m only here ‘cause Aizawa decided to get in touch with his merciful side after all. Like, Cementoss totally wiped the floor with me back home. There’s no point in lying to myself about that.”

“So you’re calling me a fucking liar, is that it?”

“Huh?”

Kirishima can only watch as Bakugou’s mouth twists beyond the usual doom and gloom and into something… frustrated. Genuinely annoyed. An iron weight settles in Kirishima’s gut, heavy and hard to ignore. “I didn’t– Look, man, can we not fight over this? I’m just saying I wanna face my mistakes and do better, that’s all.”

“Then say it!”

There’s a severity to the words that catches Kirishima off guard. Bakugou is staring him down with eyes so intense they possess their own gravitational pull, closer to black than crimson in the fire’s light–

Kirishima likes to think he knows Bakugou, at least a little. What makes him tick, what makes him angry – because there is a reason and a rhyme to his anger, a pattern to the things that set him off that Kirishima has yet to properly figure out. It’s just that Kirishima isn’t usually one of those things, not anymore.

“You lost me, Baku”, he admits, quietly, after a beat or two of tense silence. “What do you mean?”

Bakugou sighs, a harsh noise between them. The deep breath afterwards is new, however, a sharp inhale followed by a calmer exhale before Bakugou points at him, a wordless listen up.

“Just– Okay. You fucked up and wanna learn from it? Cool, fucking say that then. Not some bullshit about being too dumb to do shit ‘cause you’re not. Fuck right off with that.”

Mouth opening, Kirishima is stopped by a flurry of firecracker sparks and a terse growl of “Shut the hell up, I’m not done.” Finally, Bakugou’s look snaps elsewhere, one sock-clad foot kicking at a loose rock in clear irritation.

“Studying isn’t your strength, who gives a fuck? You got into U.A. top-fucking-two, you’re one of the only capable fuckers around and if you seriously think you don’t deserve to be here because Cementoss got lucky one fucking time then you got another thing coming.”

Kirishima sits there in a state of mild shock until Bakugou huffs and glares at him again. The threat behind it is ridiculously empty considering the impromptu speech he just gave and holy shit, Bakugou Katsuki is praising him. Kirishima Eijirou.

He might actually cry.

“What? You’re competition, bitch, so don’t make me a fucking liar by pretending otherwise.”

Scratch that, tears are definitely part of the picture now.

Wet-rimmed eyes and a quiet sniff, that’s as far as Kirishima gets before Bakugou’s expression suddenly falls, crestfallen to an almost comical degree. Kirishima does laugh then, a watery little chuckle that doesn’t seem to make things much better, either.

“Sorry, just… Damn Nitro, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. You really think so?”

And okay, yup, that’s a real glare, this time. Bakugou throws up his hands. “You’re so– Urgh. Did I fucking stutter?”

Kirishima rubs the moisture out of his eyes and smiles. “Nope.” Faint embarrassment heats his cheeks; he focuses on the warmth curling in his chest instead, glowing bright and comforting like the embers at their feet and the stars above.

“Good”, Bakugou mutters.

More wood is tossed into the fire and rekindled with red-hot palms. Scooting closer, Kirishima holds out his hands and hums happily as it chases away the ever-cooling temperatures. They can’t stay up here forever – Aizawa will have his hide for sure if he doesn’t show up to the remedial course tonight – yet Kirishima figures they have a few more minutes.

Bakugou goes right back to his earlier sprawl, unaffected by the cold: arms crossed, eyes on the sky like he can’t get enough of the sight. Kirishima thinks of glow-in-the-dark stickers, faded over time. Quietly, he wonders which constellation is Bakugou’s favorite.

“Kiri.”

“Hm? Yeah?”

Shoulders relaxed, voice even, Bakugou says: “Tell me something. About space, I mean.”

As complicated as being friends with Bakugou can get, it can be so, so easy, too. Just a while longer, Kirishima decides as he settles in next to his best friend and starts talking.

>>Chapter 4

[comebeonetwothree]

Blog #8: Country Roads

07/13/2021

Currently driving through roads where pro-life billboards are placed in front of graveyards… we are officially on the road back home.

Traveling fast but seeing the most we have while covering 1,500 miles and two time zones in the last week. 900 miles to go. We jumped from Portland to northern and southern Montana then all the way through to Chicago… our last stop ;(

We met some really nice people out here- the kind of people that want to take time out of their day to interact with you. People actually smile at you and mean it when they say “have a good day.”

There were a lot of experiences this week that were indescribable. All senses were at full throttle from sleeping in the heart of Portland to camping in National Parks.

Being our last stretch of the trip, it has been hard to not feel sad when we are closing such a big chapter of our life. It’s a weird feeling of being sad but also still being so excited for the next stop. I hope the excitement doesn’t end.

Who

Who is ready to rumble…

In Portland we got to meet up with Maya’s cousin, Michael and his daughter Thea. He moved out there 13 years ago and never looked back.

He was telling us he did a similar trip with his college buddies back in the day and fell in love with the city, so moved there shortly after the trip.

Sounds fun, might fuck around and move…

Batman was ready to rumble, and fumble and everything in between. While whitewater rafting in Glacier National Park, we had the pleasure of riding with Batman The Guide. Batman, because you can’t change who you are but if you can always choose Batman.

He had been living in Montana for 17 years after moving from Oregon. He had previously worked in the park as a shuttle bus driver and recently switched over to a whitewater rafting instructor.

He was a funny fucking dude; the whole crew was super hyped but he had a comedic sense that made it an entertaining day.

While on the water, we were joking around and splashing the neighboring rafts, an independent rafter said they will bomb us with beers if we splash them. One of the other people on the boat yelled back, “Are they full beers?” and they responded by launching three full miller lite beers at our raft.

At the end of our tour, Batman gave us the three beers then we dedicated those three beers to him with a funnel.

More Friends!!! Its wild how many people we got to see throughout this trip. Hitting Yellowstone National Park, we met up with Mayas friends from home: Cole, Jamie and Declan.

They were just starting their cross-country trip from Nyack, NY, hitting the Northern route to the southern, vs our trip ending in the North. Funny coincident.

We camped out with them for two nights… it was too beautiful to just stay one night, so we pushed back our trip to badlands and stayed the extra night.

We were all out at this joint called Buffalo Bar, it had a great outdoor area with corn hole, ring toss and puppiesss. There is something so fulfilling in petting random dogs with a beer in your hand.

This one dog I was petting had an exceptional owner who was traveling him across states to bring him home. I spoke with the owner for quite a while, she was so friendly about letting me pet her dog. She really was doing it all, back at home she has three kids and two other dogs.

When people hear about our travels, their reactions usually make us realize how cool it is to have the opportunity to do a trip like this.

Many times they wish they did the same when they were our age, *cough, cough, go travel right now, cough, cough.*

This woman explained how she jumped right into working out of school and has always regretted it. Her children were already teenagers so I told her she should get out there and do it. Traveling her new dog home was a great start to the on-the-go lifestyle, she seemed to be enjoying it.

I later found out she picked up our tables tab… thank you Jennifer, you have a heart of gold and a generous soul. She explained her hopes that her kids will one day get out there and see the world like she always wished, and we were accomplishing. It was a pass it forward request, when I am able to cover the bill of a lovely traveling stranger. I hope I cross paths with this family eventually and pay it forward for her children that may travel.

What

What a reality…

The National Park pass is something you buy and are given access to all the national parks in the US. We got one in the beginning of the trip knowing we would be reaching quite a few parks. Unfortunately, we lost it after just seeing the Grand canyon.

It fell in a black hole… the area where your dashboard and windshield meet. Remember this when you put shit on the dashboard. It can slide right down to its death, the only way to get the shit out is by taking off the windshield.

Those passes are irreplaceable, of course.

In badlands, we posted up around 10 p.m. in our hammocks. It was a new experience for us, we thought hey its our last time camping, lets try it a new way. 

We set our hammocks up underneath this podium and slept there. It was perfect for a quick and easy set up/clean up. There was a solid amount of people around us, so we weren't too worried about getting attacked by coyotes again. 

Where

When driving to Portland we drove through the Redwood National Forest. This made me realize how long this Earth has been around.

Trees take a while to grow, and these trees were as thick as three full grown pine trees and as tall as two stacked on top of each other.

Neck breaking tall.

After crossing through, we hit the upper west coast and traveled on route 101 until we hit Portland. It was filled with jaw dropping views, so much so I woke Mary and Maya up every 5 minutes to show them the views. Most times it was the same view as before, just with a new massive rock to look at.

It was a relatively foggy day, so we couldn’t see certain lookout points, but there was something so majestic about the fog within the forests and hanging on the coast.

There were points where you cross over a bridge and there was nothing around you, just white. It appeared as being stuck in a dream or driving my bitchass to heaven.

Arriving in Portland, we stayed at a place in ChinaTown. It was so cute and located on top of a great deli, Charlie’s Deli.

We checked out a bunch of shops and stores while in Portland. While we were walking around, this coffee shop had the sweetest workers. They enjoyed interacting with their customers and weren’t just looking to take your money.

Portland is filled with mockingly friendly people, they weren’t mocking anyone though, they were just that fucking friendly. They actually want to converse with people... what a concept.

For dinner we went to this food truck pod place, which is about 15 different food trucks serving food, with a communal sitting area to eat the food.

We met up with Maya’s cousin there for a drink and to catch up.

Hitting Glacier National Park, we started our camping excursion. We started off sleeping in our car since we arrived late to our campground after driving 10 hours to get there. It was pretty comfortable and with the knowledge of bear attacks in the area, it was a secure place to sleep.

While in Glacier, we decided to go whitewater rafting, a whole new way of seeing the parks. It was so dope, the rapids were on the weak side since the heat waves.

After rafting, we found a great lake front public access point where we hung our hammocks up and took a nice long nap.

There are lakes EVERYWHERE here in Montana and great fishing! Let’s travel and fish all over Montana, okay? Cool.

We waited until 5 p.m. when the park lets you in without a pass, to do a sunset hike in the park. We took Going-to-the-sun road to the highline hike, where we got to see some wild animals!

In the parking lot we got to see a horned sheep (looks like a ram) and more mountain goats!! We saw three full grown goats and one baby goat.

This horned sheep actually stormed at us and we had to jump into our car. The people that parked in the spot before us left their cheetos on the ground. This guy was hungry as fuck I guess. Relentless to say the least. 

This National Park is my new favorite spot-on Earth. Spread my ashes here. Moseying through the park was a full body experience.

All your senses are involved, the smells of the forest are beyond refreshing. The touch of the crisp air brings goosebumps to your skin, and the taste of wind in your face emphasizes the overload of oxygen in that area.

There are no commercialized areas for hours outside the park. Just a fuck ton of trees.

The sounds of different birds chirping harmonizes in your ears with the wind blowing and the rocks falling below you. Your sight is spiked the highest out of the senses. These views seemed so unreal they appeared fake. When you finally touch the grounds around you, you realize how really unreal this land is.

Heading to Yellowstone the following day brought a similar element of nostalgia. We camped right outside the park, on the state border lines of Wyoming and Idaho.

Our friends we stayed with luckily still had their national park pass, so we all took our car and got into the park early that next morning. We got to see some bison! Fun Fact: Bison and Buffalos are actually the same thing.

There were so many beautiful trees and hot springs throughout the park. So many cool colors to see. We also watched Old Faithful blow her hole!!

Getting to Badlands eventually, we got a campground directly in the park. Since we got there later than five it was free. We posted up our hammocks for our last night camping on the trip ;( when we woke up, the views were so cool.

Badlands is a shit ton of clay forming giant sandcastle hills all over. But there is so much green for a desert it was an interesting combination.

When

When can we shower…

We have completed so much of the drive home its wild. We stayed in an apartment for the first two nights in Portland and then spent the rest of the week camping.

We hit our record of days without a shower… 5 full ass days. I’m so proud of Mary and Maya, they really can’t stand being dirty.

When driving long ass 10 hour plus drives for a week you find yourself enjoying nothingness. Head empty is such a vibe after jamming to music and listening to murder mystery podcasts for hours on end.

Our music ranges widely, depending on crashing periods. Whenever Mary is driving, she is either blasting screamo edm music or 2000s pop music.

Maya plays some bomb bops; I really don’t know any of the songs, but it has opened my mind to all these new artists!!

I personally love the murder mystery podcasts, there were a few times I had to change it though because it got too spooky. In the case of this week, we were driving to camp in Montana and a murder mystery came on about the Montana Child Killer… dope.

Why

I have ruled out ever living in a city. From the driving on busy ass streets to the dirty smells everywhere, I will happily reside somewhere in the country. Where? Still have no idea… Why? Because there are so many pros and cons to all these places we saw.

I guess i'll just have to come back out here!

I’m really thinking somewhere up north on the west coast. The west coast will forever hold my heart, but I really don’t have the money or the ability to live in a city out there. Maybe one day with a bombass money making job.

Coming back to the East has made me realize how much nicer people are out west and how much slower of a pace it is.

How

How are we coming up on our last spot…

We are hitting our last stop… Chicago. Shoutout to my cousin for going to school here and letting us use and abuse his apartment! Hehe just kidding we will take care of it for ya, Owen!

It feels so strange to be this close to New York. Our license plates being from New York is no longer that cool.

I’m going to miss people peeping our plates and asking us about our travels and/or wishing us luck!

Thanks everyone throughout, we are almost accomplished with this chapter!

[yikesharringrove]

ok so i just had a dream about this and i feel the need to tell you because its prime protective Billy shit. So after the whole mind flayed thing Steve and Billy get to be pretty close friends, and almost immediately they both fall for each other HARD, but both of them refuse to believe the other could ever like them, despite Robin screaming at both of them to just ask the other one out already. (pt.)

(pt.2) one day some random dude comes into the video store and starts flirting with steve, who figures he hasn’t gone on a date since Nancy, the guys cute, sure he’s not Billy but he seems nice enough and steve is also just very lonely, so they set up a date for that Friday at 6:00 and Steve is pretty excited. When he gets to his house and tells Billy, who was there for their wednesday horror movie night, billy tried to seem happy for him even though he ready to kill this guy

(pt.3) Billy does a pretty decent job at hiding his feelings about the date, and he doesn’t want to hold Steve back, but when he gets home he calls Robin and bitches for a sold 30 minutes, she just tells him if he’d got his shit together and just asked Steve our this wouldn’t be a problem. So the day of the date rolls around and Billy doesn’t see Steve all day, can’t bring himself to see him so excite to go date someone else. Around 6:15 his phone buzzes with a call from Steve             (pt.4) he answers and when he does Steve sounds awful, he’s been crying for a while. Asks if Billy can come pick him up, and billy speeds his way there. When he shows up and sees steve leaning against the brick wall rubbing away tears he loses it. Asks him what happened and Steve quietly tells him his date was a huge asshole, flirted with the waitress, pointed out the scar on steve’s hairline and told him he’d be a lot cuter without it, but don’t worry you’re still good enough for a fuck

(pt.5) Billy is ready to kill someone, he hugs steve and drags him to his car and tells him to stay put, slams the door and gets inside before steve can argue, find the guys pretty quickly, grabs him by the collar and spits out some pretty harsh words drops him to the floor and leaves. They are both quiet on the drive back but when billy drops steve off at his house he sheepishly asks him to stay, when billy tells him it’s a bad idea steve says okay and kisses him goodnight. Billy almost faints. 

I am SO SORRY this took a thousand years, it got a lil lost in my inbox.This is modern, Billy got possessed but the kids burned it outta him, everything else is canon.

“Who the fuck is that?”

Billy was “helping” Robin re-shelve, which meant he was pulling random movies off their shelves and putting them in different spots until she noticed and yelled at him.

She looked in the direction Billy was glaring, looked to see Steve batting his eyes as that guy, the tall jocky guy that comes in a few days a week to flirt with Steve.

“Oh, that’s Ben. He comes in all the time and flirts with Steve.” Billy’s eyes were dark.

“And does Steve, does he always, flirt back?” Robin rolled her eyes. Billy was so bad at acting nonchalant.

“Yeah, Dingus really has a thing for him. Talks to me nonstop about him.” Of course he talks about Billy way more often, but Robin is over the two of them being so fucking oblivious.

“Oh. Good for him.” Billy was blinking a lot.

Steve was leaning over the counter, was giggling like a schoolgirl.

The bell over the door jingled. Billy was gone.

-

Wednesday nights had become a tradition. Billy and Robin would come over to Steve’s, would take turns picking scarier and scarier movies.

It all started because Robin thought Steve should expand his horizons, and Billy liked the way Steve would get scared, would hide in Billy, would shove his face into his chest, or his arm, or wiggle his way into his lap.

But he was not in the mood for a movie tonight. Not after watching the way Steve had gone all bashful earlier.

But he found himself pushing open the double doors anyway.

“Bill! Guess what!” Steve was jamming around the kitchen in thick socks and little shorts, a faded Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt, and his glasses, like he was trying to fucking kill Billy with how adorable he is. “I got a date!” Billy’s heart thumped to a stop.

“You, you what?”

“I got a date! With that cute Benny that comes into Family Video. He asked me out! We’re gonna go to dinner on Friday!” Steve was so fucking excited. Billy couldn’t find it within himself to bring down the mood. “I just, you know how lonely I’ve been, and, I haven’t been on a date since Nancy.”

Steve was rambling, going on and on about this fucking guy. Was talking over the movie, which normally, Billy would think was kinda cute, but it was all, Benny said the SWEETEST thing, or look at this meme Benny sent.

Billy was about four second from tearing his hair out.

He was driving Robin home after movie night needed to vent.

“Look, I’m not saying I want Steve to be unhappy. I want him to be so happy. But I just, I get a bad feeling about that Benjamin guy.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Well if you had gotten your head outta your ass and just asked Steve out like I fucking told you to, you, Billiam could be going on a date with our sweet Dingus.”

“I just, after everything this summer, I didn’t know if, if he was ready, and he never really seemed the same after the Nancy shit.”

“That’s a lame excuse and you know it.”

It was. And he knew it.

He avoided Steve the next two days. Couldn’t deal with all the excited posts on Steve’s secret Insatgram account, the one just for his friends.

Apparently he had done a face mask, had taken a fucking candlelit bath. He posted outfit options on his story.

Billy spent Friday chain-smoking in bed, yelling at Max whenever he got kicked off Netflix for too many screen in use.

Steve was getting picked up at 6. Had been posting a fucking countdown on his story. Billy wanted to crawl into a hole and fucking die.

When 6 came, Billy was working out, listening to loud, angry music as he lifted weights. He was trying his fucking best to keep his mind off of Steve, that fucking Benjamin.

But his music was interrupted by his phone going off, Steve’s contact picture filling the screen, a silly one Billy loved of Robin shoving marshmallows into his mouth. He could fit 17.

“What’s up?” It was only half past 6. Something must’ve happened. “Stevie, are you okay?” He could hear Steve sniffling.

“Bill, could you come pick me up?”

Billy was already out the door.”

“Drop your location, Pretty Boy. I’m on my way right now. Don’t move. I’ll be there soon.” Billy sped to the diner.

He saw Steve sitting on the curb outside, his face buried into his knees.

He had gone with outfit option number 4 from his Instagram, a thick cardigan, made of soft dark green wool, his nice jeans, the ones that made his ass look great, and a soft t-shirt. His hair was the most done Billy had seen it in a while. It made Billy’s heart break.

He pulled into a spot, dropping to sit next to Steve.

“You wanna talk about it?” His eyes were red-rimmed, glazed over as he loked at Billy.

“He was, he was so different from how he, how he was. He kept ignoring me, and flirting with the waitress, and he kept like, pointing out the scars on my face, like, like the one here,” he poked at his hairline. “And he said, I’d cuter without it, but, but that I’m still okay for a fuck if he took me face down, because, because my ass is the only thing I got goin’ for me-” Billy pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Baby. You’re so much better than that, than him.” He kissed the mark on Steve’s hairline. “He still in there?”

“Yeah. I asked him to take me home and he said if I was gonna give him blueballs he might as well fuck the waitress. Since she’s hotter than me anyhow.”

“Stay here.” Billy got up, cracking his neck as he walked into the diner. He found the guy right away, was smiling so sleazy at the waitress in question who looked like she’d rather die than go out with him, but needed a good tip. He stared at her ass when she walked away.

Billy sat in the seat across from his.

“So, Benjamin. Figured you and I ought the have a little chat.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name’s Billy.” Ben rolled his eyes.

“God, Steve wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you.” Billy’s heart swelled, but he was on a mission.

“Steve is the best person in this whole God-forsaken world. And you dare treat him like he’s shit on your shoe. You’re fucking disgusting.” He reached up, pulling on the collar of his shirt, slamming his nose into the table, letting his head bounce back up.

“What the fuck, you psycho.”

“He is like sunshine, he is the only thing good in this fucking town, and you have the audacity to hurt him. He is made of love, and you could;ve had him, but you’re a garbage human who deserves jack shit.” He stood from the table, Ben’s nose bleeding into a mad of napkins.

“If you don’t at least text him an apology, I will be breaking more than just your nose.”

Billy stood up, sweeping out of the diner to find Steve waiting by the passenger seat of his car. They drove to Steve’s in silence apart from the odd sniffle from Steve.

They sat for a moment in his drive way, the car off, crickets chirping in the bushes.

“I heard what you said.” Steve’s eyes were wide, his face shadowed.

“And?”

“I didn’t know you felt like that. About me I mean.” Billy sighed.

“Stevie, you are probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I, I love you.” Billy was fidgeting with the steering wheel.

“You mean it?” Billy just nodded, looking straight ahead through the windshield at Steve’s house. “I love you too. Like, a lot. I just thought, maybe you didn’t, didn’t feel the same.” Billy whipped around to look at Steve, see if he was lying.

All he say on his face was such happiness at Billy’s admission.

“You should stay the night.” Steve’s hand was closing around his wrist.

“Look, if we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right. I wanna, take you out, and spend time with you in a, in a romantic way before we, before we do anything.” Steve’s eyes were so soft.

“Okay. You wanna go out tomorrow? We can do something chill, like, like see a movie.”

“I would really like that, Pretty Boy.” He took Steve’s hand.

“Can I kiss you goodnight, then? Kiss you thanks for saving me back there. Being my knight in shining armor, defending my honor and all that?” Billy’s mind was spinning as he breathed out yeah.

Kissing Steve was as perfect as he always thought it would be.

His pretty lips were soft, and he made these breathy little noises into Billy’s mouth, their hands were still clasped together, Steve’s other holding onto Billy’s bicep, Billy weaving a hand into Steve’s hair.

Steve’s eyes were closed when they pulled apart, they were soft when he blinked them open.

“So, tomorrow then.” Billy grinned, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“Tomorrow, Pretty Boy. I’ll call you in the morning. We’ll talk.” Steve danced like a loser all the way up to his porch, making Billy laugh and flash his headlights. He stumbled through the front door.

Billy texted Robin right when he got home, sent her a simple Benjamin’s the worst but you’ll be happy to know I pulled my head outta my ass :)

[emotionally-imbruised]

Sink or Swim

In which Harry and Y/N work together as lifeguards.

A/N: here’s (a little late but) day 17 for my bby  @always-jackedup’s 25 days of summer. Make sure to go check out the pieces by all the other authors if you want some fun summer things to read. Also wow, this turned out longer than I was expecting; you all can blame Sarah.

Word Count: 15.8k

As much as she wanted this summer to be one for the record books, just like it had been in recent years, Y/N didn’t have too high of expectations. It sucked a lot, but finally after three years of being away, she was spending her first summer back home in California and to say she wasn’t all that excited about it at all, would have been an understatement.

Once she graduated high school, Y/N stayed in San Jose with her family for a year and a half. She didn’t go to university because frankly, she didn’t know what she wanted to do in life so instead, she worked her ass off while taking a few online classes to save up some money and go see the world. Which is precisely what she did.

She spent the last three years traveling through different countries, gaining new experiences, meeting the greatest people, eating the best food, and working wherever she could to keep doing so. It was an incredible experience, and she’d do it all again if she could, but it did make her feel very alone times, so at the beginning of the year, Y/N started longing for something more permanent. Somewhere she could stay that would allow her to decide what it was she wanted to do, whether that included school or not. After considering all of her options, she decided on heading back to California with plans of moving to LA at the beginning of September and embark on some new journeys in the land of opportunity... Even though the thought of doing that terrified her.

In preparation for her move, Y/N applied to various summer jobs as a way to save up more money until she was able to find a stable job in Los Angeles; and much to her surprise, a lot of those places were very interested in hiring her as a seasonal employee. Amongst those places expressing interest in her was Oceanside Resort and Spa on the outskirts of Bodega Bay. This fancy, membership-only resort that had been in the middle of hiring their summer staff, needed someone to fill one of the open lifeguard positions. The resort provided all training that was required, as well as staff accommodations for the entire summer (which was needed, seeing how far it was from home) and after considering all of her other options, was the one Y/N ultimately decided on. She did all her preliminary training in the weeks leading up to the beginning weeks of summer, and before she knew it, her family was dropping her off at the shuttle bus station in San Francisco to start her new adventure.

Despite its name, Oceanside was not actually located beside the ocean. Yes it was close, and the coast was only a few short minutes away, but Y/N found it somewhat ironic and couldn’t help but chuckle at the pictures of the resort printed in her welcome pamphlet; none of which included snaps of the Pacific. She knew it was stupid to be amused by such a little thing, but as she read the overly extra and dramatic explanation of how great this place was, her laughing increased and wouldn’t stop as she continued reading it over.

Maybe it was because of how she thought whoever decided to make Oceanside’s slogan “A Shell Of A Good Time” should never be allowed to make a slogan ever again, or maybe it was due to the lack of sleep she had the night before. But regardless, Y/N’s laughing didn’t subside and started gaining attention from others on the bus with her.

“Are you done?” A voice hissed from the seat in front of her, causing Y/N to snap her gaze up to be met with Aimee, her best friend from high school, staring back at her. The two of them had kept in touch for the years Y/N was away and decided to apply for jobs together. Lucky for them, Aimee was hired at Oceanside too but as a bartender at the poolside cabana rather than being a lifeguard like Y/N. The two of them applied to be roommates in the cabin that would act as their home for the summer, and as if their luck couldn’t have gotten any better already, they were approved for that too. “We’re not even there yet, and you’re already going to start annoying the shit out of our coworkers.”

“Sorry,” Y/N replied sheepishly, lowering herself into her seat more as her chuckles reduced to snickering. “Ok, but for real... have you read this thing?”

“Yes, I have,” Aimee stated as she reached over to snatch the pamphlet from her best friends grasp, turning back around so Y/N wouldn’t see the broad grin plastered on her face as well. “And yes I know it all sounds ridiculous but, a job is a job.”

“Got that right. And this place seems to have its perks, won’t be the worst job ever.”

Aimee just nodded before turning around to face Y/N again and tossing the now crumpled up pamphlet between the ugly blue patterned seats at her head. “Exactly, and we’ll be together. It’ll be a summer to remember.”

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N grumbled with a shrug, not paying any attention to the skeptical look Aimee was giving her as she tried to uncrumple the piece of paper on her lap. “I’m not here to have fun, you know? Sure if it happens, great, but I really need this job Aims… or LA just won’t be happening. I need to do good here and not mess it up.”

“I know,” Aimee responded and waited for her friend to make eye contact again. “But you can’t be having that mindset, ok? Obviously, work hard and everything, but also let yourself have fun, Y/N. We’re adults now and won’t have many more chances to do things like this. May as well make it count.”

There was no point in arguing against Aimee’s statement because Y/N knew she was right. Although her main focus of the summer was to make as much money as she could and save it, that thought alone made her fear about wasting away one of her favorite times of the year; which was the last thing she wanted to do. She thought about how maybe she could put herself out there a little bit and see what would happen, but for the time being, she decided on just biting down on her lip and nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right, you don’t gotta tell me.”

“Oh, whatever,” Y/N scoffed as Aimee laughed and faced forward again, preparing to put her headphones on and just zone out for the remainder of the drive. However, before she had the chance to do that in peace, Y/N leaned forward and lowered her voice just so that only Aimee could hear. “Hey Aims, do you know what we’re going to have?”

“Don’t say it.”

“A shell of a good time,” Y/N blurted out, trying so hard to keep a straight face. The audible groan that left Aimee’s mouth was enough to feed on Y/N’s ego and caused her to fall into another laughing fit. This went on for a few minutes, and as she was starting to recollect herself, Y/N noticed how Aimee was now slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder and standing up, all while giving her a pointed glare. “Come on, it was funny.”

“Sick of you already,” she mumbled in response before moving to sit in the seats a few rows behind Y/N in silence and remaining there for the rest of the trip.

Once they arrived at Oceanside, Y/N and Aimee were given a quick, half-assed tour of the resort before being shown where they’d be living for the summer. There was no need for them to get an entire lay of the land just yet seeing as their first day of work was still a few days away, and both girls were rather thankful they’d have the weekend off before diving right in.

Y/N took this time to really let it all sink in and appreciate how she actually got to call this place home for the next two and a half months. There was no doubting that Oceanside was absolutely stunning and genuinely seemed liked its own little private oasis. It had a very serene atmosphere and didn’t seem to be lacking in anything whatsoever. However, Y/N knew it may take her a little while to get used to everything.

The resort was huge. When the bus made way up the long winding driveway that starts at Oceanside’s gated entrance, the first thing that could be seen was the clubhouse; the place Y/N figured she’d probably be spending most of her time while clocked in for work when she wasn’t at the pool. The large cream-colored building was sat on top of a hill and stood out amongst the greenery surrounding it. Y/N was told this place was what made every other part of the resort accessible, and was the first stop on hers and Aimee’s little tour.

Once inside the sliding doors of the clubhouse, they found themselves standing in the middle of the lobby; the area that acted as the place everyone needed to go to first regardless of who they were. It was where the resort guests would check-in for their stay as well as to book any extra classes/activities they wanted to do, spa services, tee time on the golf course, or to simply get any information they needed. It was also where all the staff would have any meetings after hours and go to punch in and out for each of their shifts, seeing as it was connected to basically everything. The spa and gym were to the left of the front desk, the dining room where all the guests would eat their meals was to the right and had the kitchen attached to it at the back. The kitchen itself was unnecessarily large and staffed many people, but its size made sense seeing as there were apparently a lot of guests that came here throughout the summer.

To the back of the kitchen was a door that led to another large room, one that none of the guests had access to. It was not as fancy as the rest of the clubhouse by any means and was actually kind of run down, but to Y/N, it had the most character. To put it simply, it was a mess hall for all of the staff working at the resort. There were two long wooden tables with benches that took up most of the space in the room, matching very well with the old, cracked wooden flooring and beams that crossed above on the high ceiling. Sat at the tables were her new co-workers talking, laughing, gossiping, and eating with one another. Many of them sent friendly smiles Y/N’s way, but the odd person eyed her and Aimee up a little bit -- clearly aware of how the newbies have arrived.

Once Y/N and Aimee made it through the mess hall, they exited through a side door that entered out onto a beautiful stone and marble courtyard. There was a large fountain in the middle of it with four flower gardens that take up each corner of the space. Nothing covered it from above which left it to be filled entirely with natural light and just gave Y/N the best feeling. It was her favorite spot by far.

Just past the courtyard was the pool, and it exceeded all expectations as well. It too was quite large, having a shallow section for kids and a deeper end for adults only. There was little potted plants and succulents around the entire area and no shortage of lounge chairs whatsoever. One of the first things Y/N noticed was how two lifeguards were monitoring the pool as opposed to only one. There was one sitting on the lifeguard stand that was positioned on top of the natural-looking stone waterfall on the other side of the pool, while the additional lifeguard patrolled on the same side she was standing; watching for any out of the ordinary behavior with a rescue buoy in hand. She was quick in noting how her shifts would more than likely be with someone else and that alone gave her some peace of mind. After scoping out the rest of the pool area, the two girls made way to the poolside bar where Aimee would be working and alas, their tour ended.

Upon arrival to Oceanside, the first person, Y/N and Aimee, met was Mr. Andrew Slack, the manager of the resort and well, their boss. He was kind enough and was the one to give them the tour, however, he came across as a very busy man, and just as he was finishing showing them around, he got a phone call and had to leave the girls to fend for themselves. Andrew briefly explained where they had to go to get to where the staff housing was located, before muttering a quick goodbye and heading back towards the clubhouse and answered the phone. After a moment of silently watching him go, Y/N and Aimee glanced at each other and shrugged before heading down the path he pointed out to them so they could finally put their bags down and get settled in.

“Are you sure we’re even going the right way?” Aimee groaned from a few feet behind Y/N as they came to a fork in the road, looking at the various paths they could venture down. They were maybe two minutes from the clubhouse, the sounds of people chatting and splashing around in the pool could still be heard, but she was exhausted.

“Not particularly,” Y/N responded, letting one of her duffle bags fall to the ground as she approached a tall wooden sign that listed various places they could get to and which path they’d need to take, one of them labeled staff cabins. She looked down the trail to her left, and sure enough, more laughter and chatter could be heard from what she assumed was others moving in as well. “This way, I think.“

The two girls walked down the path Y/N suggested, and soon enough, they came into a large clearing where fifteen different cabins resided. Five of the cottages were a bit smaller than the others, which only allowed two people to stay in them rather than the four that would remain in any of the others. According to one of the people on the bus there, only returning staff were able to apply for the two-person cabins, but both Y/N and Aimee were already aware that they’d be sharing a living space with two other girls, so that fact didn’t really phase them. Not every staff member needed accommodations because many were locals to the area, but nonetheless, Y/N was thankful that she did indeed have a place to stay.

Aimee inched ahead in search of their cabin and didn’t realize Y/N had fallen back a bit while she was taking in their surroundings. With a small smirk forming on her lips, Aimee decided to snap her best friend out of the little daze she was in. “Watch out for that root.”

“What root-,” Y/N started and snapped her gaze to Aimee, before staggering a bit as she took a step forward and tripped over a thick tree root that was sticking up from the ground. She quickly regained her balance and played it off as if nothing had happened, earning a loud chuckle from Aimee. “Ah, that root.”

“And they want you to be a lifeguard? Those poor people.”

Y/N just glared at her friend instead of responding as they continued forward in search of cabin 4.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their new summer home and just upon the sight of the slightly rundown looking cabin, Aimee was full-on sprinting up the steps in hopes she could claim the first bed. Y/N trudged after her, slowly making her way up the rickety wooden steps, but halting when a loud crack and some shouting sounded from behind her.

“Oi! Now, look what you’ve done.”

She raised her eyebrow skeptically at the sudden commotion before gradually spinning around on her heel to see what the hell was going on. On the other side of the trail, at the cabin directly across from hers, Y/N observed as two boys stood outside of their tiny lodge that was almost identical to her own. One of them had his back to her, and she couldn’t help but stare as his body rippled with laughter, letting her eyes roam more than she intended. He wore a pair of dark pants and a simple white t-shirt. Multiple tattoos littered his left arm, while his right arm almost seemed bare. She couldn’t see much else but noticed how he had a pair of black sunglasses on is head as a way to keep his mob of brown, shaggy, curls away from his face. There was no way of knowing how long she stood there gawking at the man, but as soon as the guy he was with spoke up, she was brought back to reality.

“You know, the least you could do is help me.”

It was then Y/N noticed that the other boy was standing with one foot stuck in the staircase. Somehow one of the wooden planks snapped and resulted in him falling through the step. Y/N immediately thought about all the first aid training she’d endured just to be ready for this job and found herself dropping all of her things on the porch before rushing down the stairs and over to the two men.

She didn’t waste any time in brushing past the guy in the white shirt to get to his friend, because truthfully, he could have gotten really hurt and the other guy was not being any help. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Oh, just dandy,” the guy stuck in the stairs muttered before placing a hand on the railing and using it to keep himself balanced as he stepped out from the broken wood and up onto the deck. “Thanks for your concern, though. Nice to know someone’s watching out for me when my so-called friend isn’t.”

“Oh, get off it,” the other man spoke up from behind Y/N again, sparking her interest with how the words came from his mouth in with a distinctly British accent. Slowly, she turned around to actually get a look at them, and when she did, she felt as if the air had been knocked right out of her chest.

As soon as she locked eye contact with the man, his familiar green eyes widened in surprise as they both gawked at each other in complete and utter shock. He recognized her too.

“You-.”

“I know you!” His voice boomed and caused a blush to immediately burn across her cheeks. “We went to high school together, yeah?”

The man in front of her was none other than Harry Styles. A kind British lad who was two grades ahead of Y/N, all through high school. They had some mutual friends, and Y/N was aware of how Harry had moved from a small town in Cheshire to San Jose during her freshman year. The two were never really that close, but they knew of each other and had met a few times in passing, which left Y/N to be more than surprised at the fact that he’d even recognize her.

“It’s Y/N, innit?”

“Uh yeah,” she replied and shook her head free of any lurking thoughts, fully aware of how he’s aged very nicely over the years. “It is. And you’re Harry, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Pretty sure there’s other Harry’s in the world, dumbass,” the other guy spoke up from behind her again, causing Y/N to chuckle.

“You’re not funny, mate,” Harry snapped before making eye contact with Y/N and letting out a huff. “That there is my irrelevant and incompetent roommate, Nick. Guess he’s m’friend and all too, but that’s just a minor detail.”

“The greatest detail actually, seeing as I’m the only one that’ll put up with you.”

“Ok, anyway,” Harry cut his friend off with a glare, a small smile forming on his lips as he watched Y/N giggling at their antics. “What brings you to Oceanside?”

“I needed a summer job,” Y/N explained with a shrug, looking between the two boys as they nodded in understanding. “I went away for a while and am now trying to make ends meet. What better way to do that than being a lifeguard at some fancy resort? Man, I feel like I’m in High School Musical 2 just being here.”

“It gives me more Dirty Dancing vibes, but I can see why’d you think that,” Harry responded with a warm smile, causing a swarm of butterflies to form in the pit of Y/N’s stomach.

“Yeah we’re basically living in a cliche summer romance movie, aren’t we?” Nick piped up before nodding towards Harry. “But hey, at least now you know who the new lifeguard is.”

“You’re a lifeguard too?” Y/N asked surprised, feeling caught off guard by just how small the world was seeming to be.

“Yeah, s’my what, third summer working here now? That sounds about right.”

“Oh, wow,” Y/N replied, making no attempt in masking her shock. “Must be an alright job.”

“Pays the bills at least,” he told her with a shrug. “It’s a good way to make money when you’re not in school for the summer, m’assuming that’s what you’re doing .”

“Kind of. I uh, I didn’t go to university once I graduated high school and traveled instead. Reality caught up with me eventually, and now I need to work so I can start figuring what I’m going to do with my life. I’m moving to LA in September, so hopefully, I’ll figure something out there.”

“Weird, so is Harry,” Nick added.

“Really?”

“I am,” Harry answered. “Got an internship with a record label there, gonna try to amount to something I guess.”

Y/N watched as his gaze fell from hers to the ground, where he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another. He didn’t seem too confident talking about this specific subject, so Y/N took it as a hint to move on from it. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do great. Anyways, my roommate is probably wondering where I went, I uh, I’ll see you guys around. And maybe you should get someone to fix that step before someone actually does get hurt.”

The three of them laughed before Y/N slowly started backing away and headed towards her cabin. Nick waved her goodbye, but Harry didn’t say anything. It made her wonder if she had said something wrong, but regardless, she shook her head and made her way up the steps to gather her bags again and head inside; utterly oblivious to how Harry’s eyes didn’t leave her once as he watched her walk away.

The next four weeks went by rather quickly, and Y/N was already having much more fun than she had anticipated. In her short time working at Oceanside, she had already managed to develop quite a few friends from the people she’d met, and it made the whole experience better, just like Aimee had said. Her and Aimee both made fast friends with their two other roommates Dana and Maya, who were twin sisters but couldn’t be more different from one another. Dana worked as a waitress in the dining hall for the guests, while Maya worked out on the golf course providing beginner lessons to those who signed up for them. The two sisters butt heads a lot, so it was smart to not have them working together in Y/N’s opinion, but she really did enjoy spending time with both of them nonetheless.

Another person she clicked with really well, was Nick. When he wasn’t busy sassing Harry or organizing activities and events for the guests to do during their stay, Nick was Y/N’s go-to person (other than Aimee) for anything really. He was her helping hand when she needed it, and the best person to rant or gossip to when something had irked her. She was the same type of friend to him, and it didn’t take her long to realize he’d be one of the people she knew she’d miss the most come to the end of summer.

Every guest Y/N had encountered who stayed at the resort, was very kind, and treated her with respect. She was quick in figuring out who the regular families were, the ones that came to Oceanside every summer as their vacation and got the lowdown on how long each of them had been doing so from Mr. Slack (or Mr. Whack as Harry and Nick would call him behind his back.) Amongst those families was the Huntington family. Mr. Huntington, a successful business mogul, had brought his family to and donated a lot of money to this specific resort for about eight years now, or at least that was what Mrs. Huntington had told Y/N. They were a very reserved family, but actually very friendly. Mrs. Huntington was a regular to the Tuesday morning water workout classes Y/N would teach and was a joy to be around while her husband would poke fun of her from where he lounged on a chair nearby. They had a son, Tyler, who was assumedly Y/N’s age and had many friends from other families that stayed there as well. When he wasn’t with those friends, he was spending time with his family or striking up a conversation with Y/N when she had some downtime during her shifts.

Last, and certainly not least, the final and the arguably most significant relationship she had developed so far, was with Harry. The two of them had almost exact work schedules, which naturally led to them spending a lot of time together. He was the one to show her the ropes of lifeguarding in general, as well as what to do in certain situations and was always there to have her back if needed. When both working, Y/N usually sat on the lifeguard stand while Harry patrolled the edge of the pool. They’d tease each other from a distance, sticking their tongues out at each other when no one was looking, or mouthing the words “don’t slip” when they switched their spots so Y/N could teach some of her workout classes.

The first thing that really warmed them up to one another was actually on Y/N’s first day. She had cut through the kitchen to get to the lobby to punch in on time and almost ran directly into Harry. She hadn’t seen him since she moved in those few short days before, but the way he just stared at her and started chuckling struck something within her.

“Do you have a problem?” She asked and grew slightly aggravated when his laughing increased. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said firmly and tried to regain his composure, but failed miserably. “It’s just that I didn’t know management was going for matching uniforms this year.”

Y/N scowled at him before slowly glancing down at her outfit to see what he was talking about, only to become even more confused. Her uniform was simple enough, just a red full-piece bathing suit that had to be paired with white shorts and if she so decided, the white terry cloth sweater she was given with Oceanside’s emblem on it. She paired the outfit with the metal whistle she had to wear, some sunglasses to keep her hair out of her face, and a pair of black Adidas slides because there was no way she was walking around the pool without proper footwear.

To her, there was nothing wrong with the outfit, but once she was finished taking in her own appearance, Y/N moved her gaze to Harry and finally realized what he was going on about. He too was wearing a pair of red swim trunks, with a kind of tight looking white tank top that also had the emblem stitched into it as well. His outfit was almost identical to her own, but what got her the most was how he too had a pair of sunglasses pushing his mob of curls back and a matching pair of Adidas sandals. The two of them looked ridiculous standing side by side.

“Oh god,” Y/N groaned, which only caused Harry to burst out into laughter again. She was about to make another comment, but before she could, her phone started buzzing with the reminder that her shift started in five minutes. “Crap, we should go.”

“Lead the way,” Harry responded and dramatically bowed as a way to tell her to go first. She shook her head and proceeded, only making it a few steps before he spoke up again. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Hate to break it to you, love, but I wear it better.”

Y/N scoffed and froze, turning to send him a glare but couldn’t help but laugh too as he just chuckled again and rushed forward to avoid her wrath. Their shifts together after that were just the same harmless and fun routine, and it really didn’t take Y/N long to realize just how much she enjoyed being around Harry, and that feeling only grew as the weeks went on.

One Friday afternoon, when Y/N and Harry were both finishing up their shift together by folding towels in the clubhouse laundry room so the lifeguards on the evening shift would have less to do, Harry decided to throw Y/N off guard with a question.

It was one he’d meant to ask her all week but couldn’t figure out how to bring it up in conversation. As he stood there watching her fold each towel with as much focus and precision as the last, he knew their shift was coming to an end soon and how he may not get to ask her if he didn’t do it right then. So, with a deep breath and a subtle clearing of his throat, he asked her.

“Are you going to the staff party tonight?”

“Hmm?” She replied, surprised, having to take a second to process the unexpected question. “Like the one that is thrown in the mess hall every weekend?”

“That’d be the one.”

“I uh, I don’t know,” she murmured and set down the last towel she had just finished folding. “Aimee, Dana, and Maya have been telling me I need to go to at least one. Apparently, they’re fun.”

“They are. S’nice hanging out with everyone in a non-work setting,” he explained, but avoided eye contact; suddenly feeling as if he might get turned down even though he has not built up enough courage to actually ask her out just yet. They’d become rather close, and there was this certain spark he felt whenever she was around, but again, was too chicken to actually do anything about.

“Are you going’?”

This time it was her question that caught him off guard because realistically he was expecting her to simply just say no. “Yeah I am, promised Nick I’d go with him.”

“Oh well if Nick is going then maybe I’ll consider it,” Y/N teased, unsure if this was his attempted way in saying he’d like her to go or not -- completely oblivious to just how bad he wanted her to be there with how well he masked it. He just chuckled in response as Y/N felt a sudden wave awkwardness consume the comfortable feeling she usually had whenever he was around. She glanced at the clock to see their shift had ended and decided to use that as an excuse to remove herself from the situation. “Looks like we’re done for the day. Maybe I’ll see you around this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah, see yeh Y/N.”

And with that, he watched her leave yet again.

After her conversation with Harry, it didn’t take much for Y/N’s roommates to convince her into going to the part, even going to the extent of her letting them pick out her outfit for the night. They decided on a simple black dress that Dana owned, one that just so happened to hug Y/N’s body in all the right places. The outfit was paired with a few of Aimee’s accessories while Maya styled her hair and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d assume those three were plotting something with how much effort they put into her appearance that night.

Once they were all dressed up, the four girls left the cabin and made way to the mess hall.

Y/N didn’t really know what to expect from this party, but upon stepping foot into the hall, she couldn’t help but let her eyes widen in surprise as she took in the scene around her. The two long wooden tables that regularly took up most of the space in the room were pushed against the walls and made a makeshift space that acted like a dancefloor. Couples danced together to the music playing, grinding and holding onto each other like a bunch of horny teenagers, while others exited from the kitchen with drinks in hand. It all looked like a scene from a movie, and Y/N had to shake her head at it all. Harry was right, this place really was much more like Dirty Dancing than High School Musical.

As if on cue, a familiar voice sounded from her right, and Y/N was soon faced to face with Nick. He wasted no time engulfing her in a tight hug before he moved on to greet the other girls. Y/N said hi to the people that had come over with Nick before moving her gaze to meet with an oh so familiar pair of stunning green eyes and smiling.

Harry had a wide grin on his face as he stepped towards her and pulled her into his chest for a quick hug as well. The gesture surprised Y/N, but she also found a sense of genuine warmth in his embrace before slowly moving away to look up at him again.

“You made it!” He exclaimed and just couldn’t stop smiling at the fact of her being there.

The way he grinned at Y/N made the butterflies in her stomach swarm, and she found herself having to break eye contact with him before her blush got too noticeable. She took that time to give him a once over and couldn’t keep herself from feeling some type of way. He was wearing a simple grey buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, shamelessly displaying his arm tattoos that just so happened to capture Y/N’s attention more than usual as the strobe lights danced across them. His hair was messy, but a good kind of messy Y/N decided; the entire look was just very, Harry and that thought alone made her smile.

“You look great by the way,” his voice snapped Y/N from her trance as looked around to see all of her friends have scattered and it was just her and Harry now.

“Thanks,” she continued to blush. “You look good too.”

A moment of awkward silence washed over them as neither really knew what else to say. Harry knew he could just end the conversation right there, but that wasn’t really something he wanted to do, so he began racking his brain for ideas on how to keep the conversation going. As if someone had heard him trying to think up something, the song that was playing changed and the upbeat intro of Right Back by Khalid started booming from the nearby speakers; causing him to grin all over again.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Me?” Y/N squeaked and glanced around because surely he wasn’t talking to her.

“Yes, you,” he chuckled. “I mean, I could ask Nick but who knows where he went off to.”

Y/N bit down on her bottom lip nervously, her heart fluttering at what felt like a million miles a second as she slowly nodded her head. “I’d like that.”

If it wasn’t for the few drinks she downed with her friends while getting ready for this thing, Y/N was sure she would not have been in this situation whatsoever. But alas, the alcohol gave her the liquid courage she needed to let Harry grab her hand and lead her out to the middle of the dancefloor. When they came to a small clearing, Harry dramatically spun around to face her again, causing her to laugh out loud as he dorkily pointed at her with finger guns. He had a goofy smirk plastered on his mouth as he started moving to the music and Y/N soon found herself swaying her hips to the beat too. She glanced at the people around her dancing very close to one another for this particular song and suddenly felt very out of place. They were entirely surrounded by couples.

As if sensing Y/N’s sudden discomfort at their setting, Harry mindlessly moved towards her until there were only a few inches between them. She looked up at him with wide eyes, but with him merely just being there, she didn’t feel as anxious. The two of them remained like that for a moment, lost in each other before Harry went to wrap his right arm around her waist; but stopped himself before he could.

“Uh, would you mind if I-?”

Y/N smiled at how he became so flustered, and simply could not find it in her to deny him. “You don’t have to ask.”

Harry didn’t know what to expect Y/N’s answer to be, but a massive wave of relief washed over him as he returned her smile and continued his movements. He snaked his arms around her waist just as the chorus started playing again and pulled her close, before shifting to rest his hands on her waist as they started moving to the music together.

Hesitantly, Y/N placed her hands on his chest before slowly moving them up to wrap around the back of his neck. Harry loved witnessing her gradually become more comfortable with what they were doing because with how much time he’d spent with her so far this summer, he knew this whole thing wasn’t exactly her scene. She seemed to actually be having fun, though. Throughout the song, she had already let him in more than she had over the last month, looking so content and at peace. It was at that moment Harry realized how he was going to do whatever he could in his power to make her feel that way as often as possible.

Y/N liked being this close to Harry more than she wanted to admit. There was something about him that drew her in and made her want to stay. Sure she considered him to be a friend and all already, but tonight felt different, a good different. She would never dance or act like this with just anybody, but with Harry, it felt natural.

Harry slowly leaned his forehead against Y/N’s as she started twisting the smalls curls at the nape of his neck and felt himself fall into a state of contentment as well. They danced with each other for the remainder of the song, along with the next two before Harry slowly started moving away.

A look of confusion washed over Y/N’s features, but it soon faded as Harry linked his hand with hers and started leading them away from the dancefloor. “Follow me.”

Y/N had no idea where he was taking her, but she didn’t question it either as she let him guide them towards the side door that led them out into the courtyard. There was no one else out there, which was a pleasant change from the crowded area they were just in.

As they walked hand in hand together, the two remained silent, and Y/N tried to keep her breathing steady as Harry gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and lead them towards the fountain. They started off talking about the night’s festivities along with not really knowing where all of their friends had gone off to, however, that casual conversation quickly turned deep when they started asking questions about each other, but in a very gradual, comfortable way that surprised both of them.

Y/N was the first to open up. She wasn’t really one to layout her entire life story just for someone to judge it and point out where things could have been changed, but with Harry, she didn’t feel that way once. He expressed genuine interest in what she was saying and soon enough, she was telling him everything. She explained why she thought she needed to leave California for a while after high school and her experiences abroad. With that, she talked about how she felt that time could significantly change people and as much as it sucks to admit, there’s nothing anyone can really do about it either. Her primary example being how Aimee is the only person she kept in contact with from high school because she had grown apart from everyone else. Y/N even went on to explain how she wasn’t able to form very close bonds with people she met during her travels, due to her fear of letting people in just enough so that she’s comfortable before leaving her high and dry.

Harry hung on to her every word, providing a comforting squeeze to her hand when she’d bring up things that were a bit tougher to talk about, and just nodding as she went on to let her know that he really did want to be there, listening to what she had to say. Once she was done, he could tell how relieved she was by simply being able to share all of that with someone she trusted enough to know the things that made her, her. Harry knew how much Y/N appreciated him for letting her vent, and in return, let him know that she would do the same for him if he ever wanted to, and so he did.

The two talked for hours, although it only seemed like mere minutes to them. Once Harry finished his back story of everything that had happened since he graduated high school, he expressed his want to return to England soon and that his money from this job was going to allow him to do so. He went off about how excited he was for his move to LA and his dreams of making it big in the music industry one day, but for now, Harry was rather content with where he was (specifically in that moment with Y/N).

As the night went on, it was Y/N that noticed the party had died down, seeing as no music could be heard anymore and that it was getting rather late. 

Y/N was fully aware of how neither she or Harry worked the next day but still felt a little anxious at the thought of her friends giving her an earful for not having a clue as to where she had gone or who she was with. Luckily for her, the conversation she was having with Harry was much more lighthearted than it was before and she didn’t feel as bad for interrupting it.

“Hey, H?” She spoke up, smiling inwardly to herself at the little nickname she’d mindlessly decided to call him. “I think everyone’s gone back to the cabins, think we should go too?”

There was no doubting that Harry didn’t want the night to end just yet and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the thought itself. So, being the quick thinker he was, he glanced around at their surroundings and tried to think of a way to keep her around; a mischievous grin dancing on his lips when his gaze falls on the pool and an idea sprang to his mind. “We could do that, or we could do something completely different. Something fun.”

“Oh, well, what did you have in mind?”

“Something that I’m going to do regardless of if you join or not, even though I’d much prefer if you did,” he smirked and observed as her eyebrows started to furrow.

“Harry…”

A tiny, heartfelt laugh left Harry’s mouth at the small pout that was forming on her lips as she spoke. She had no idea what he was planning, and it made him that much more excited to mess with her a little bit. He watched as she bit down on her lip in anticipation, and waited for him to say something and after a moment of keeping her on her toes, he leaned forward to whisper lowly in her ear.

“I’m going to go swimming.”

With that, Harry stood up from his spot on the edge of the fountain and jogged his way over to the pool. As much as Harry wished he could see the look of disapproval, he knew Y/N would be looking at him with, he didn’t stop to glance back at her. Instead, he approached the pool gate and glanced around to make sure no security guards were out on patrol, before quietly lifting the latch to unlock it and slowly pushing it open.

Once inside the gate, he walked over to one of the poolside lounge chairs and set his phone and wallet on it before unashamedly starting to strip down to his boxers. Just as he tossed his shirt on the chair and moved to begin unbuttoning his pants, he heard the pool gate creak open again and was already smiling at what was about to come.

“Are you insane?” Y/N’s voice hissed as she followed after him scowling. “Harry, you’re going to get us in so much trouble.”

“Can’t get in trouble if we don’t get caught,” he shrugged as he stepped out of his pants and set them on the chair too. Goosebumps raised on his torso as the cold night air came in contact with his newly exposed skin, but he ignored it as he turned around to face Y/N again. He could tell she was cold by the way she had her arms tightly wrapped her body as a breeze wisped her hair around, and decided to use that factor to his advantage. “The pool is heated.”

“I know it’s heated, I work here too, you know.”

“I do,” he responded smugly and tilted his head to the side. “Well, are you coming in or are you too chicken?”

There was a glint in her eyes that he recognized to be the competitive streak in her coming out. He’s managed to see this side of her a handful of times while he was pressing her buttons at work and seeing her look back at him that way made him think that he may have her convinced, however, the glint faltered as she nervously looked around to see if anyone was nearby. “I don’t know H-.”

Harry could tell that deep down she wanted to join him, she really did. However, he also knew damn well that doing anything that could possibly jeopardize her job here cause Y/N a lot of anxiety. But maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to crack through that wall she keeps putting up that prevents her from doing something fun and reckless for once.

Slowly, Harry walked towards her with a mission. As soon as he was close enough to do so, he reached out and linked their hands together; giving that little bit of reassurance she wanted so badly.

“I’m not going to make you do it if you don’t want to love, but if for whatever reason something did happen, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” He paused and watched as her features slowly softened, her hand squeezing his a little tighter all at the same time. “Do you trust me?”

“You already know I do,” she whispered and earned herself a small smile from Harry as she let go of his hand and stepped towards the pool. This time it was Y/N’s turn to shamelessly strip down to her underwear with her back turned to Harry.

Harry was surprised by her sudden burst of confidence as she casually kicked her shoes off and pulled the dress she was wearing up over her head -- letting it fall to the ground in such a simple, yet unknowingly sexy way that had Harry growing more frustrated with each passing second.

Y/N kept her back to him, not wanting him to see just how badly she was blushing. Once she was left in only her mismatched grey/black cotton bra and undies, she stepped towards the edge of the pool and waited for Harry. She smiled to herself as soon as he was standing beside her again and pondered her movements for a minute before making the executive decision to try and push Harry into the pool.

However, her plan backfired, seeing as she did not account for just how buff Harry was and that the likelihood of him actually falling in was slim to none. To make matters worse, Y/N stumbled slightly when she tried pushing him to which Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist so that she wouldn’t fall in instead. Once she was steady, Y/N finally looked up to Harry and internally groaned.

“You just tried to push me in!” He exclaimed dramatically.

“And stupid me thought it’d actually work,” Y/N grumbled as she tried to squirm out of Harry’s grasp. She almost broke free, but before she knew it, Harry was pulling her back against his chest and began tickling her at her sides. She burst into laughter as she began squirming even more and tried to push him away. “H-Harry, stop!”

“You’re wrong if you thought I was letting you get away with that. I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You’ll get over it,” she replied in a huff as she continued trying to escape Harry’s hold. This continued for another minute as Harry slowly but surely moved them back towards the pool’s edge, and Y/N’s wriggling intensified. She knew what he was about to do and without thinking,  blurted out the first thing that came to mind to prevent him from doing so. “No, don’t! I can’t swim!”

Harry’s movements halted as soon as those words left her mouth, leaving Y/N to cover her mouth to stifle another laugh. She hadn’t considered how ridiculous her statement was until after she said it, and couldn’t help but laugh at how far from the truth it actually was. Harry didn’t move his hands from her waist, and although she really didn’t want to turn to face him, she eventually did and prepared for his reaction.

He stayed silent for a split second before narrowing her eyes and tightening his grip on her waist. “You’re so full of shit.”

Before she could respond again, Harry was lifting her up and jumping into the pool with her in his hold; finally putting the entire argument to rest. As soon as she was surrounded by water, Y/N swam away from Harry and used her feet to push off the bottom of the pool so that she could get back up to the surface and catch her breath.

Harry resurfaced shortly after and they both broke into another laughing fit. The two of them stayed there, treading water for a few minutes before Harry decided to splash Y/N out of nowhere, causing her to gasp dramatically.

She splashed him back but gave up the fight when he returned the gesture with a much larger wave that crashed right into her face. “Ok, I guess I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did,” he replied sassily and treaded and little closer to her. They watched each other for a minute before Harry started lowering the bottom half of his head into the water, just enough that only his eyes were still above the water. Y/N watched him curiously and couldn't help but roll her eyes when he exhaled deeply out of his mouth so that a series of bubbles would rise to the surface and pop around him as he kept eye contact with Y/N.

“God, you are such a child!” She squealed and started swimming away from the shallow end of the pool.

“You love it,” he before shaking his wet, matted curls and swimming after her.

The next half an hour or so is spent with Y/N and Harry goofing off together, and really just having the time of their lives. They had a race to see who could swim from one end of the pool to the other and back the fastest, to which Harry won only by a little bit. However, he soon lost his title when Y/N challenged him to see who could remain in and underwater handstand the longest without falling over or having to swim up for air.

Neither of them had a care in the world, but that quickly changed when the sound of jingling keys and heavy footsteps could be heard in the distance but were undoubtedly getting closer to the pool area. Y/N froze in place, and her face went white, the previous panic she had before of getting caught returning and causing her to be on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Harry, what do we do?!” She asked in a hushed tone, knowing that if they were to just jump out of the pool and make a run for it, they would most definitely get caught. “Y-y-you said-.”

“I know Y/N,” Harry hissed as he stood up and looked towards the courtyard, only to see the beam of a flashlight coming their way. “Ok, ok, I need you to do as I say and not argue with me, alright?”

Y/N nodded frantically but kept her mouth shut as she let Harry gently push her against the side of the pool. His hands never left her body, and to be honest, it’d stress her out even more if he weren’t there. Harry was keeping her calm. She observed as he intently watched the direction the noises of the person approaching came from, not being able to keep her eyes from the way the elegant butterfly and sparrows tattooed on his stomach and chest moved with each breath. Part of her wanted to reach out and trach along with the ink, but she knew now wasn’t the time and kept her hands to herself while she waited for Harry to tell her what to do next.

“Ok, when I say, I want you to go under the water as quietly as you can and swim behind the waterfall. Stay low when you come back up, I don’t think security will see you that way.” His plan was simple enough and actually seemed as though it could work, so with a silent nod, Y/N got in position and waited for him to give her the ok to go. “Alright…. Now.”

Y/N did as Harry said and quietly went back under the water. She kicked off the wall and smoothly glided under the water and didn’t come back up until she reached the wall she knew was behind the waterfall and beneath where her lifeguard chair was resting up top. Once she came up for air, she pressed her back against the wall to remain unseen and waited patiently for Harry.

Before Y/N could really start getting worried, she was able to make out Harry’s figure swimming beneath the waterfall just as she watched a flashlight beam over the part of the pool that she and Harry had only been. She unknowingly pressed her back harder to the wall and held her breath, keeping her eyes closed as she waited for someone to demand that they come out from the waterfall.

A few agonizing moments go by as Y/N prepared for the worst, but the worst never happens. She peeked one eye open just as Harry disappeared under the water again and swam back out into the regular part of the pool. A portion of her wanted to wait for his confirmation, but when it took him a bit longer than she was expecting for him to come back, she knew the coast must’ve been clear; so she followed after him.

Sure enough, when she resurfaced again, there was no security standing at the edge of the pool, waiting to give them shit; but instead, it was just Harry standing with his back to her, with his muscles tense. Cautiously, she approached him.

“We should get going,” he finally spoke up when there was no longer too much of a space between them. He turned around to face Y/N, but couldn’t seem to actually look at her. “Tha’ was closer than I’d like it to be, and we may not have time before he’s back.”

“H-.”

“And you probably don’t want anything to do with me after putting you in a stressful situation like that, this is all my fault,” he continued to ramble as she kept approaching him.

“Harry…”

“God, I swear I didn’t think anyone would actually come by but-.” This time it was Y/N who cut Harry off as she made one final step towards him and placed a hand behind his neck. She pulled him towards her at the same time she stood up onto her tippy toes and waited for the sparks she knew would go off once their lips came in contact with one another.

To say it felt like magic would have been an understatement because how it felt for Y/N and Harry to be at that moment, after spending such a great night together was simply indescribable. They both really liked the feeling of being there, together, making out, even though it was in the pool they both were lifeguards for, and soon found themselves getting lost in the kiss.

Harry quickly pulled her closer to him, wanting to have as little space between them as possible as his hands tangled into her hair so that the kiss could deepen. Y/N reacted by moaning slightly into his mouth and parting her lips more so that she could allow him more access.

They continued making out as Harry placed his hands under Y/N’s thighs so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. They kept going at it when Y/N’s back gently collided with the pool wall again, and she placed her hands on either side of his face just so that she could keep him near. The only thing that was going to make them break away from one another was going to be the need for air, and even that took a few minutes to happen, but eventually, it did.

The two of them slowly pulled away from each other, lips swollen, and panting for air as Y/N glanced up at Harry and smiled lightly. “You were putting words into my mouth.”

“Clearly I need to do that more often,” he chuckled before leaning down and catching her lips in another quick, yet sweet, kiss. Once he was done, he leaned back away from her again, his thumbs twiddling with the material of her underwear as they made no indication of wanting to move from one another. Eventually, it was Harry that broke the silence again. “Think we should get out here?”

“Not the worst idea I don't think,” Y/N responded with a nod.

The two of them untangled themselves from one another and climbed out of the pool before gathering their things and heading back to the cabins.

Y/N stayed with Harry that night and into the early morning of the next day. She woke up tangled in his bedsheets alone but had no need to worry seeing as she could hear him humming along to a tune from the shower in the washroom nearby. A loud yawn left her mouth as she stretched and squinted at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows and finally took in her surroundings.

Harry’s cabin was smaller than Y/N’s but was much more spacious because it was only him and Nick that stayed there. And luckily for Y/N, Nick was nowhere to be found. She did, however, have this nagging thought of how he could literally burst through the door and see her so obviously trying to keep her naked body covered beneath the sheets at any given moment. There was not a single part of her that wanted to deal with that, so she sat up in the bed and looked out the window for any sign of him coming before booking it into the washroom so that she could join Harry in the shower.

The two of them spent the entire day together. It was ridiculously convenient that Nick, Aimee, Dana, and Maya all had work today because they were able to postpone any of their friends bugging them. Seeing as Y/N only had the outfit she wore last night, she gave Harry her key so that he could run over to her empty cabin and grab some fresh clothes. Much to her dismay, he came back with only a pair of terrycloth shorts that belonged to Maya and some clean underwear (but no bra).

“Harry, do you expect me to walk around topless all day?” Y/N asked and quirked an eyebrow at him. It was evident that he didn’t intentionally forget to grab her a top by the way his eyes widened slightly at her question, but with Harry being Harry, he played it off with ease.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea…”

“Harry.”

“Kidding,” he groaned as he rolled off the bed again and made way to his dresser so that he could give her a shirt to wear. “But not really. Here.”

Y/N caught the shirt Harry tossed towards her with ease and quickly threw it on, knowing she’d gone without a top for long enough. After that, Harry climbed onto the bed again and stretched himself across the bed next to her. He was hesitant in doing so, but after getting stiff from leaning on his elbow for a few minutes, he laid down flat with his head resting softly on Y/N’s lap as she stayed sat up and leaned against the wall.

The two of them talked for hours on end, again. Not once getting bored of each other's company and loving hearing what they each had to say, Y/N started to think about how long it had been since she was this comfortable with someone. They talked about everything from their favorite foods, to their what genre of a story they liked best after Y/N had eyed up the stack of books that were on Harry’s bedside table. Harry started going off, and Y/N mindlessly pushed her hand through his curls as he reached over to grab one of them so that he could tell her some of his favorite lines in it.

As the late afternoon crept around, Harry proposed that they actually leave the cabin and go out to do something, to which Y/N agreed. So, they gathered up the laundry hamper they had tossed Harry’s dirty bedding into that morning and made way to the clubhouse to start washing them while they went off and did something else. As they made way to the laundry room, they had to come to a stop when someone started calling out after them. Sure enough, it was Aimee standing behind them with a bemused and knowing look. She didn’t give them a hard time though seeing as she was just finishing her break and needed to get back to work, but Y/N knew she would get an earful when she got home that night.

Once they loaded up one of the washing machines and convinced one of the older ladies working in the laundry room, folding up clean bedsheets for the guests, to put move their wash over to a dryer so that they wouldn’t have to come back as soon; they embarked on a little journey. After sending a quick text to Maya a quick text to make sure it was alright, Y/N led Harry to one of the many golf carts that weren’t being used to take on their own little excursion.

They drove around the resort’s perimeter, taking the whole place in as if they were the ones staying there rather than being employees. After they finished doing that, Y/N drove them back to the clubhouse and tried thinking of something else to do before Harry suggested they go on the hiking trails the resort had.

The two of them walked back down the path that led towards the cabins and took a different turn that led them down a winding trail and eventually to the base of a large hill. Other people were nearby putting the multiple trail options to good use, but Harry and Y/N couldn’t decide which one they wanted to go on. They settled on the longest trail, the one that took them up the hill to a supposed lookout spot that was there.

It took them roughly forty-five minutes to reach the top, mainly because Harry kept dramatically pausing, saying he needed a break although Y/N was totally aware of it being a facade so that she’d stay near him and not keep going too far ahead... but she didn’t mind as they continued going. 

Once they reached the end of the path, Y/N didn’t know what she was expecting to see, but she definitely wasn’t prepared to have her breath taken away

The top of the hill was a large clearing with the most incredible view. There was no one else up there so she didn’t waste any time walking around the entire area so she could take it all in. When she looked down the hill to the east, she had an incredible aerial view of the whole resort. The massive golf course seemed to go on forever, disappearing in the distance behind some trees and smaller hills, and everything else seemed so much smaller. She could see the entirety of the clubhouse letting her eyes move to the pool and then over to the trails behind it as well as all the big fancy lodges the resort guests rented out during their stay. Her gaze fell on the row of cabins, watching as her co-workers walked home after their shifts had come to an end; even seeing who she thought was Dana trudging her way up the steps of their shared cabin, and Nick making his way towards his and Harry’s.

Y/N then moved to look to the west, and that was when her jaw dropped open in awe. In the distance, she could see the coastline. Where the greenery from the trees ended, the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean started and seemed to go on forever; causing her to become quickly enraptured by its beauty. So this was why Oceanside was a fitting name.

“S’pretty, innit?” Harry’s voice asked from behind her. When she didn’t respond, he moved towards her so that they were standing side by side. It wasn’t his first time seeing the view, which Y/N knew, but what she didn’t realize was how with the way the sun was just beginning to set, everything stood out. The pink and purple sky surrounding them and the way the breeze wisped her hair around made it seem as though she was the center of the most beautiful painting. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her, not that he’d want to anyway, and wanted to this exact image engraved into his memory forever. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” She asked and glanced over at him briefly before looking back to the ocean. “The view? Yes, it’s incredible.”

“Not just the view,” Harry whispered to himself as he watched her. Silence fell over them for a few minutes after that, and neither made a move to change that. However, as the sun kept getting lower in the sky, Harry knew that this moment couldn’t last forever. “Think we should head back down there, it’s going to be dark soon.”

“Oh, yeah, not a bad idea. The laundry is probably done by now too.”

It didn’t take them as long to get down the hill as it was going up, so soon enough they were back at the clubhouse gathering Harry’s bedding and heading back to the cabins to call it a night. 

On their way there, they heard laughter and chatter coming from people walking down a different path. Neither Harry or Y/N thought anything of it as they started down the trail towards the cabins until someone was calling after Y/N.

“Hey Y/N, wait up!”

Slowly, both Y/N and Harry turned around to see Tyler Huntington approaching them with one of his friends.

“Hi Tyler, how’s it going?” Y/N greeted as Harry remained silent; not noticing the way he glared at the other boy.

“Good,” Tyler responded. “Just finished up a round of golf. Didn’t see you at the pool today.”

“Yeah, Harry and I have this weekend off so you won’t see me around there tomorrow either.”

“I see,” he replied and moved his gaze to Harry, sending him somewhat of a dirty look. “Styles. Well anyways Y/N, seeing as you have the day off tomorrow, Chris here’s parents went to San Francisco for the weekend, so a bunch of us are going to party in his family’s lodge. You should come.”

His invitation surprised her a little bit because frankly not once had she given the impression that she wanted to hang out with Tyler or his obnoxious friends apart from being around them during her shift. There was a fine line between employee and guest’s relationships being professional, and she did not want to cross it, so she politely turned him down.

“Thank you for the offer, but no thanks. I’m actually so exhausted and am ready to call it a night.”

“I see,” Tyler responded disappointedly. “Maybe another time then?”

“Maybe,” Y/N responded with a small nod and looked up to Harry. “Well, I guess we’ll be going then, have a good night guys.”

“Night,” Tyler and Chris responded in unison.

Y/N and Harry turned and started walking towards the cabin’s again, and Tyler watched with gritted teeth as Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close. Feeling the jealousy within him reach an all-time high as she leaned into Harry’s touch as they continued walking and eventually disappeared out of sight.

The next couple of weeks or so went on like usual. Y/N and Harry spent most of it together at work as usual but also spent a lot of evenings together as well. While at work together, the two of them would go on as they usually would -- teasing each other and making snarky comments, but this time around, there was a lot more subtle flirting. They always kept it professional around guests, but when they had any time that was just the two of them, they were all over each other.

One evening, after Y/N and Harry finished their shift together, they helped the kitchen staff set up tables in the dining room for a fancy gala dinner that was being put on for the resort guests. They stuck out like sore thumbs working alongside the servers who were dressed in their fancy uniforms in preparation for the dinner, to which their co-workers teased them about, but expressed appreciation for the help nonetheless.

Once they were done helping wherever they could, Dana told them her, and the rest of the team should be alright and that Y/N and Harry should get out of there before the guests started showing up. As they were headed towards the lobby, Harry snuck up behind Y/N and covered his hand over her mouth so that no one would hear her. A muffled yelp left her mouth as Harry pulled her behind one of the large planters and pillar so that he could gently push her up against the wall; a seductive grin tugging at his lips as he did so.

“Been waiting to have you to myself all day,” Harry said as he moved his hand from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. Y/N moaned against his mouth and responded by pulling him even closer than he already was so that the kiss would deepen. They stood there making out for at least a solid two minutes before footsteps and voices could be heard coming towards them.

Y/N and Harry quickly broke away from each other and tried to straighten out their appearances before stepping out from behind the pillar, coming face to face with the Huntington family. Both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington greeted the pair happily while Tyler stayed quiet; silently fuming as he took in Y/N’s swollen lips and Harry’s disheveled curls.

“Aren’t you kids done for the day? Get out of here already,” Mr. Huntington teased as he patted Harry on the back.

“We are,” Harry told him. “Just thought we’d help with setting everything up for you guys. It looks great in there, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.”

“Anyways we should get going,” Y/N spoke up with a smile and looked to each member of the family, pausing when she locked eye contact with Mrs. Huntington. “They’ve got your favorite wine in there Carol, it should be a good night.”

“Oh, wonderful!” The older woman exclaimed and clapped her hands together, earning a groan from her husband. “You two have a good night as well, don’t get into too much trouble.”

“We won’t,” Y/N and Harry answered together before nodding goodbye and walking away from them. Both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington smiled and watched them go for a second before continuing on down the hallway, but Tyler stood there watching, no glaring at the two of them until they disappeared around the corner.

A few days later, when Y/N was in Harry’s cabin watching a movie with him and Nick, her phone buzzed with a new notification. She reached over to grab her phone, Harry shifting so that she’d have easier access to his bedside table, but not moving his arm from where it was wrapped lazily around her waist. As soon as she had the device, Y/N returned to her spot, nestled up against Harry and turned the screen on only to see she had an email from Mr. Slack. Assuming it was necessary, she unlocked her phone and opened the email; her eyebrows furrowing as she read through it.

“Everything alright?” Harry asked after a moment of seeing her just stare at the phone screen.

“Yeah, I guess,” she started. “It’s just that Mr. Slack changed my work schedule completely.”

“For next week?” Nick questioned and sat up, curiously from his bed across the room.

“No… for the rest of the summer.”

This caught Harry’s attention as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as well. “Mind if I see?”

“Not at all,” Y/N responded and handed him the phone.

Harry took the device and scrolled through the entire email, noting the changes in her schedule. “Our shifts are completely opposite now.”

“Really? All of them?”

“Yeah, all of them,” he replied and handed the phone back. “We don’t have any more days off together.”

“So they’re splitting us up and pairing us with different lifeguards for the next three weeks?” Y/N questioned, and Harry nodded. “Why now all of a sudden?”

“Whack caught on to you two messing around with each other, huh?” Nick asked and wriggled his eyebrows.

“I don’t think it was him actually,” Harry shrugged in response. “Think it was the Huntington kid.”

“Tyler?” Y/N asked and leaned onto her elbow so she could get a better look at Harry as he nodded. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how pissed he gets whenever he sees us together. He’s jealous Y/N. Probably pulled some strings with management so that he could attempt to move in on you before the end of summer.”

His tone became rather hostile, and Y/N quickly decided that she did not like it one bit and started moving away from him. “I have noticed actually, but it’s wrong to assume someone could be so malicious. We can’t prove that he actually did do that, maybe Slack just wanted to switch up the lifeguard rotation.”

“Three weeks before the summer ends? Y/N, do you hear yourself right now? All the hints and clues of Tyler wanting to mess with us are right in front of you, but you’re too damn gullible and naive to open your eyes and see!”

Harry’s outburst surprised Y/N, and she made no effort to hide it. “That was uncalled for, Harry.”

“But true,” he finished and looked away, not noticing the hurt that flashed through her eyes.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was scrambling to get out of Harry’s grasp to get as far away from him as she possibly could. “You know what? I’m just gonna go.”

“What, no, Y/N, I didn’t mean that rudely,” Harry pleaded as he stood up too, realizing that he’d really upset her.

“How did you mean to say that I’m too gullible and naive for my own good in a nice way, Harry?” She snapped and brought her hand up to her chest when she saw him reaching out for it. “I’m sorry that I tend to see the good in people and not make rash assumptions about them just because I feel like it! You know, I thought you weren’t one to do that too actually, but I guess I was wrong.”

Harry couldn’t find it in himself to say anything else because just seeing how much his words had hurt her, crippled him. During one of their many talks, she told him how growing up she was told that her niceness would get her in trouble one day, that she was too accepting of everyone and it really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N viewed her kindness towards others as a weakness because of that, and although it was one of her traits that Harry admired most, he still managed to make her feel bad about it. To make her feel weak.

Y/N gave him a second to respond, and although she was greatly disappointed when he didn’t, she just swallowed her pride and walked towards the door. Muttering a quick goodbye to Nick, she swung the screen door open and walked out, letting it slam shut as she rushed down the stairs and over to her cabin before the tears started streaming down her face.

There was an invisible weight resting on Harry’s chest as he watched her go, feeling absolutely terrible as Nick walked up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You just royally fucked up my friend.”

A week went by, but Y/N and Harry had yet to speak to one another. She was upset, which he knew, but fucked, he missed her. He just wanted the chance to apologize, but even then, that opportunity never came because they never actually saw each other. The only time he’d get to see her was in passing when one of their shifts came to an end, and the other was there to take over.

On the nights he knew he didn’t work the next day, Harry would stay up late reading on his front porch, coming to a stop only when he’d hear someone dragging their feet on the gravel and watched as they trudged their way past his cabin on route to their own. One of those nights, over a week since he and Y/N, had last spoken outside of work, he heard two sets of footsteps walking down the path, so he set the book down to see if it was anyone he knew. As soon as he looked up, her gaze fell onto Y/N, but she wasn’t alone.

She had just finished the night shift at the pool and was yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she nodded to what Tyler was going on about besides her, clearly uninterested. When Y/N and Tyler reached the space between her and Harry’s cabins, she looked at Harry tiredly and sent him the smallest smile. Y/N then turned to Tyler and thanked him for walking her home and turned him down again for hanging out before saying goodbye and going up to her cabin stairs. Just as she reached the door, she paused and looked over to Harry, nodding towards him. “Night, Harry.”

And with that, she was gone.

The days after that, Harry observed how Tyler followed Y/N around like a lost puppy and started to become annoyed because he’d still not gotten the chance to apologize. One night, as they were going into the last week and a half of summer, Harry decided he was done sulking and knew that he needed to talk to Y/N because he’d gotten to the point where he just felt empty without her.

He first went over to her cabin to see if she was there. Knocking on the door, he felt his heart rate increase with each passing second until the door swung open to reveal Aimee.

“Get off my porch,” she spat. Harry took a deep breath, feeling even more nervous than before because if looks could kill, he’d be dead by now.

“I-is Y/N home?” He stammered and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

She continued glaring at him, exhaling deeply through her nose to express just how much him being there made her fume. “You’re right fucked if you think I’m letting you talk to her after what you did.”

“Aimee I-.”

“You messed up Harry, massively.” Aimee finished for him. “Do you know how hard it is for that girl to open up? To feel such a significant bond with someone that she can genuinely be herself without fear of being judged for it. You somehow managed to crack through that wall. She let you in, and you threw it in her face. So, like I said before, get the fuck off my porch.”

“I know I messed up ok?” Harry argued before she could slam the door shut, his voice cracking slightly. “I know that I gained her trust, became someone she was comfortable with, and then fucked everything up. I know you think I’m a terrible human being because of what I said, and honestly, I can agree with you. What I said was uncalled for and completely unnecessary, and I know that I’d take it all back if I could. I was jealous, fuck, I was jealous of Tyler Huntington because he kept moving in on her and to be honest, I was afraid. Not because she ever seemed interested, but because I knew that he could give her the world if she let him and that I can’t. I’m a lifeguard for fuck's sake, not the son of some rich businessman. I don’t know where I’m going from here, or what LA will hold, but I’d really like for her to be there for it, and I hate myself for possibly messing that up.”

Once his rant came to an end, and he finally decided to look up again, he half expected for Aimee to just proceed with slamming the door in his face but was actually surprised to see that he’d gained an audience. Both Dana and Maya were now standing behind Aimee shaking their heads.

“God, boys, they really are stupid,” Maya groaned.

“Y/N doesn’t care about any of that you dingus,” Dana stated.

“Honestly though,” Aimee agreed, her features softening. “Glad you can see how good of thing you almost lost there, Harry, because as much as I want to say you don’t deserve to even associate with my best friend… You’re an alright dude. She’s on the night shift at the pool, you may be able to catch her before she finishes up and comes home for the night. Just don’t mess it up again.”

“I won’t, thank you,” Harry replied as he turned around and bolted down the stairs and started off in the direction of the pool. He checked the time on his phone and sped up a little more as he knew Y/N would be getting ready to leave soon.

Y/N finished gathering the last of the pool towels left by guests and put them in the hamper for housekeeping to deal with tomorrow. She hated the night shift. Although the pool closed at 10pm, she was alone from 8pm on, but the pool was always dead by then and the time would just drag. She knew her shift was almost over, so she wandered back to the lifeguard stand and grabbed her belongings so she could go punch out.

Before she could get too far though, the pool gate creaked open, and someone walked in. She turned around to tell the person that the pool had closed, but stopped herself when she saw Tyler standing there. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” he responded and walked towards her. “Was wondering if you wanted some company for the walk home again.”

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m meeting up with Nick so I’ll be fine,” she told him honestly.

“I see,” he replied and looked down to his feet. “Well, I know that you have the day off tomorrow. Maybe I want to do something… with me?”

Y/N could tell he was a little nervous asking her this, but there was something he said that she was not expecting to hear. “How did you know I had tomorrow off?”

“I uh, you told me, remember?” Tyler stammered, internally cursing himself.

“No, I didn’t,” Y/N trailed off. “So how did you actually know?”

“Ok, you caught me,” he tried to play it off. “I asked Mr. Slack to tell me because I really wanted to ask you out, seeing as you turned me down all summer.”

“I turned you down because I’m not interested, Tyler.”

As the conversation started going down, Harry was nearing the pool gate. He heard what Y/N had just said, but stopped so that he wouldn’t interfere.

Y/N watched Tyler, watched as his eyes snapped to hers once the words left her mouth, and saw them darken. Y/N held her ground, though. She didn’t falter or let him intimidate her regardless of how part of her wanted too because deep down, she already knew this was going to tie into what she and Harry had fought about.

“See that’s the thing I don’t get,” Tyler started, chuckling slightly. “Why wouldn’t you be interested? I’ve got money, looks, charm-.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she cut him off, and Harry had to cover his mouth so that he didn’t laugh out loud.

“Right. Not like you’d notice it anyways with how busy you’ve been off fucking Styles every chance you got. Quite the slut move, Y/N.”

Harry was ready to throw hands at that point and was about to start going off, but Y/N beat him to it.

“You do not get to say that about me, or anyone for that matter,” she fumed. “And frankly, it is not your concern, or anyone else’s who I sleep with, so I’ll sum this up real quick. I like Harry, he is a kind and decent being, something you wouldn’t know, and is someone I will gladly admit to falling for and will continue falling for because he is actually worth my time.”

“Whatever-.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet. Harry is someone who holds more character in his pinky finger than you do in your entire body, and is also someone who would never, in a million years, pay money to try and interfere with someone’s life.” Tyler fell silent at that. “I know you paid Slack to change my work schedule around.”

“I, well, I-.”

“You aren’t worth it,” she finished and had no intention of speaking another word to him. Tyler stood there shocked as she brushed past him and started walking towards the gate.

“I can have you fired, you know?” He finally spoke up, noticing that Harry was standing nearby. “Both of you.”

“No, you can’t,” Y/N laughed, sending a quick glance to Harry before turning back around. “Slack already told me he wants both me and Harry to come back next summer with a pay raise. I think he was saying something about how he didn’t want to get rid of the guest's two favorite lifeguards, including your parents. So maybe I’ll see you next summer, Tyler, but for now, fuck you.”

The man was left speechless and couldn’t find any other words to say as he watched her walk out the gate and towards Harry.

Once the gate shut behind her, Y/N turned to face Harry and tried so hard to not just lunge herself towards him. “Did you hear that?”

“I did,” Harry said, and Y/N started stepping towards him.

“All of it?”

“Yes, all of it.”

“Ok, good,” she answered just as she reached him and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in so she could crush her lips against his. The kiss was sweet but turned hungry as each of them realized how much they’d been craving to be near one another again. However, it didn’t last long until Y/N was pulling away to look back up at Harry. “I missed you, H.”

“God, and I missed you,” he replied, softly pecking her lips once again. “And I am so so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for being such a prick, and I don’t expect you to forgive me any time soon, but-.”

“I already have,” Y/N told him and moved to wrap her arms around his waist in a hug. “Besides, Nick told me how sulky you were because I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Of course he did,” Harry groaned and pulled away from the hug. He leaned down to kiss her once again before leaning his forehead against hers. “Let’s go home.”

Y/N’s last week at Oceanside was spent packing, working her final shifts, and saying goodbye to all the friends she had made throughout the summer. On her last day there, she gave her cabin one final look over to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and let out a sad sigh. Dana and Maya had left the day before, so it was just her in Aimee left. Once she was sure she had everything, she went outside to where Aimee and Nick were waiting, and the three of them started walking towards the clubhouse.

“You know you’re both going to have to Facetime me at least once a week, right?” Nick asked as they walked around to where the different buses were waiting to drive them home.

“I’d expect nothing less,” Y/N answered and let out a heavy breath once they reached their destination.

The three of them pulled each other into a group hug and muttered their teary goodbye’s. Eventually, Nick had to pull away so that he could board his bus and made sure to wave like crazy as it began pulling away.

“I can’t believe you’re going to LA already, I feel like I just got you back,” Aimee started as she loaded her luggage onto the bottom of the bus.

“I know,” Y/N told her as she helped with the large suitcase. “The summer flew by. Sorry that I'm sending you on the bus back to San Jose alone.”

“I’ll be fine, you’ll just have to make it up to me with drinks when I come to visit. Which will be very soon might I add.”

They both chuckled before slowly frowning, tears stinging at their eyes. In a split second, they were engulfing each other into a tight hug and trying not to cry.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Aims.”

“I’m going to miss you more,” Aimee replied and pulled away to wipe at the tears streaming down her face. “I’m so proud of you Y/N. You’re going out there and doing whatever it is you want to do, and I got to see you grow as a person so much this summer. God, I feel like a proud mom.”

“It’s because of you, you know,” Y/N responded as she reached up to wipe away some of her friend's tears. “If it weren’t for you sassing me, I would have been a hermit all summer. You gave me that extra push I didn’t know I needed.”

“Well, in that case, then I’m happy that I did.”

Y/N pulled her best friend in for another hug, staying like that until the bus driver called out for final boarding. “I guess that’s your cue to leave.”

“I guess it is,” Aimee sniffled as she moved from Y/N’s embrace and started walking to the bus. “You better call me the minute you get to LA.”

“You know I will,” Y/N answered with a smile.

Once Aimee was sat on the bus, the doors closed and she waved at Y/N as it drove away. Y/N didn’t leave her spot nor stop waving until the bus disappeared over the hill, and she let out another sigh. She then turned around and was met by her special someone standing there looking back at her with his goofy grin.

“Ready?” Harry asked as he lifted his right arm so that he could rest it on Y/N’s shoulders as they walked towards his car, waiting in the parking lot.

“More than ready,” Y/N answered before moving away from him so that she could climb into the passenger side; her luggage already packed in the trunk thanks to Harry going out of his way to put it there as she said goodbye to Aimee.

“Perfect.”

With one final glance around at the resort that had been their home for the last two and a half months, Y/N and Harry began their long drive to Los Angeles and their future, together.

[jungkooks-left-tiddie]

In Conclusion; it do be like that sometimes.

You can Find the Wattpad version here :)) 

Warnings: Mentions of an arranged marriage, Alcohol use, A nosey man, People constantly misgendering others, Inability to understand personal boundaries.

Words:  4.7k, (An apology for posting this so late)  

Hadi

August 28th, 2020; 3:17 pm

Beirut, Lebanon.

"Golfing? Seriously?" To say that Hadi was having a bad day was the understatement of the century. She overestimated her ability to wake up on time, which then led to her running around the house, trying to finish some pending work, when she got the memo that her father wanted her to join him at an investor's private golf club.

"Yes, and you best hope I see you here in the next 30 minutes," Her father threatened. Hadi shook her head.

"I don't have any choice do I?" She cut the call, tossing her phone on her bed and rummaged through the wardrobe to try and find the right outfit. Pulling out a rather plain beige checkered sweater, she scrunched her nose in disgust. Golf outfits were so incredibly plain; I mean, where was the ✨✨pizzazz✨✨?

"Ugh, boring-ass outfits, no fashion sense at all," She was about to apply her perfume and concealer, but she decided against it. God knows how her father and the other men would react.

Double checking her belongings again, she fed her kitten and played with him for a while. Glancing at her watch again she sighed loudly. Blu-- her kitten-- as if he could sense her reluctance meowed loudly and purred; almost as if he was telling her to not go.

"I know sweetie, I don't want to go either. But I have to," Hadi picked up Blu and put him back in his small bed. "Behave well for me, ok?" Blu just meowed in response.

Hadi grabbed her keys and entered the elevator. She made her way to the building's parking lot and buckled herself up, groaning when her phone-- that was connected to the car's bluetooth-- rang loudly.

"Yes, Hassan?" She sighed audibly. Her day was bad enough already, and she didn't need another person who made it worse.

"My man Hadi!" She winced at the use of the incorrect pronoun. "You still up for drinks tonight?"

"I'm sorry, Hassan. I have to attend to some incomplete work today," Hadi lied. Was she sorry about it? Not at all! Any time away from people was worth lying for.

"Aw! Well, its your loss," She rolled her eyes, "Everyone's going to be there, you sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm sure, Hassan." She cut the call, not particularly in the mood to talk to him for longer.

Hadi was not even 20 minutes into her drive when she got a notification about a meeting she was supposed to attend in a few hours. She was kidding about having to attend a meeting, but since when did things go her way anyways? And usually she would groan at the mere mention of a meeting, but this time, Hadi was actually excited for it. I know, I can't believe it either.

Taking a sharp turn, Hadi saw the isolated roads ahead of her and she suspected that she was nearing the location her father had given her.

"This isn't that far away from home," She noted, pausing for a moment and drove her car to the parking lot. The security, as if knowing who Hadi was, immediately let her in.

Hadi parked in the designated place and went to the reception.

"Hi sir, how may I help you?" The receptionist looked up from her computer screen with a polite smile.

"I was wondering where I could find Mr Kanoo?" The gut feeling of being extremely out of place never left her.

"Oh, Mr Kanoo and his daughter are waiting for you in course number 17," She smiled and gestured the way to the course. Hadi gave her a swift smile and began walking; only to pause suddenly.

"Actually I was wondering if I could you could do me a favour," She walked to the receptionist's desk yet again.

"Of course, sir."

"I know this sounds really odd," Hadi gave a sheepish smile, "But could you get me a locker in the men's dressing room? I have to attend a meeting after this and I have no time to change," She explained, handing out her card for them to swipe. To her surprise the receptionist just smiled and pushed the card back towards him.

"Mr Kanoo will be taking care of all your expenses," She smiled and showed Hadi the way to the locker rooms.

Hadi quickly ran back out, grabbed the suit hanger from her car and hurried towards the direction of the locker room. Twisting the knob to its combination, she gently folded her suit so that it won't catch any wrinkles, put it inside and twisted the knob again.

A quick glance at her watch told her that if she didn't start running, she'd be executed.There was absolutely no way she would make it in one piece if she ran, so she opted for walking briskly instead, following the arrows that made it easier to navigate the huge club.

Hadi sat down on one of the benches, crossing her long legs. She spotted her father, Mr Kanoo and a woman who seemed like his daughter from a distance and frowned.  

'Why's she here?' Usually, Hadi wouldn't worry about petty things like someone's daughter playing golf, but judging by the way Mr Kanoo's daughter was laughing at something that Hadi's father said, she was concerned.

Hadi's father never cracked jokes. Heck, he wasn't even remotely funny. Convinced she was just being paranoid, she consulted the council of wise turtles.

Another quick look at her father told her that he was still in a deep conversation with the other man. So she did what she always does best: Hadi scrolled through her social media to see what was up. 

She quickly switched her phone off when she heard the voices of approaching footsteps and loud laughter.

"Hadi my boy! It's absolutely wonderful to see you again!" Hadi stood up.

"I could say the same thing, mr Kanoo," She gave a curt smile and brought her hand out to shake the older man's, hoping she looked polite enough.

"Sit down, sit down!" Mr Kanoo gestured one of the waiters to come over, "Right, take down the order," He looked at Hadi and her father.

"Any preferences?"

"Yes," Hadi turned towards the waiter, "I'd like a Mai Tai and a grilled lentil panini," Excited at the prospect of proper food, Hadi wondered that maybe coming here wasn't a bad decision after all and only zoned back in when she heard the waiter coming back with his order.

'Damn, good food and fast delivery? I need to come to this place often.' She found herself thinking as she took a bite of her panini, almost moaning at its exquisite taste.  

She drowned out the loud voices of her father and the other man, who now began talking about investments and shares.

"So tell me Hadi," Mr Kanoo turned to him with a devious smile and Hadi knew, that no matter what question she was asked, she had to be careful while answering.

"This new project your father was telling me about," He swirled his glass, "May I know the profit margin that you're expecting?" Hadi sipped her drink.

"I guess father forgot to mention that this was a non-profit project," She avoided her father's glance, "It is meant to provide for children who are in need of food and shelter," Mr Kanoo held a contemplating gaze.

"And say, how do you plan on funding the project in the future?" All of a sudden, all eyes on the table were on her.

"Well," Hadi sipped her drink yet again, "We've set up a trust fund for starters," She set her almost-empty glass down, "And the final details for the project will be discussed today," She smiled at the older man again,

"But it's the generous businessmen like you who really make a difference," A BIG LIE. While Ahmed Kanoo did give away money for charity often, Hadi couldn't really say the same for other businessmen and their companies. She just hoped that Mr Kanoo would buy her compliments and agree to fund this project alongside her.

And once she saw the satisfied look that Mr Kanoo now wore, Hadi finished up the delicious panini and her drink.

"Do we have a deal then?" Her father prompted, setting his glass of scotch down and looking expectantly at Mr Kanoo.

"I believe we do!" They laughed and shook hands, which-- if Hadi's mental guide for corporate body language was right, meant that they had another ulterior move. There was no way in hell that they would laugh if they weren't the closest of friends (in this case, they really were not).

"So Hadi, when are you planning on settling down?" Hadi shifted uncomfortably.

'Well, Fuck. Time to dissolve.' Hadi was ready to yeet herself off a cliff.

"S-settle down..?" Of course Hadi knew what they meant by 'settle down', she just didn't know how to tell them that she was in fact, ✨✨gay✨✨.

"About time, don't you think? The company needs an heir, and judging by your success, I don't think it would be hard to find you a good wife," Hadi gave a polite smile, and laughed lightly, the kind of laugh that oozed discomfort. She stopped laughing after her father gave her a pointed look.

"W-wait you're serious?" Was it too late to run away? This has to be the worst thing her father has done after supplying her mom with his sperm, (which meant she had to be born), and assuming her gender and sexuality.

Hadi's head was spinning. She had no idea what her father and that other dude were planning, but whatever it was, it didn't seem too good.

"Of course daddy's serious," Hadi stiffened at the sudden contact of-- was it an arm?-- with her thigh, "And of course, he was referring to me," Ok, this lady was beginning to get on Hadi's nerves. She was silent the whole time, why open her mouth now? And what exactly did she want from Hadi?

"Excuse me?" The lady continued looking at Hadi in a predatory way, "What exactly do you mean?" She just wanted answers, goddamnit!

"Daddy always got me what I wanted," She drawled, leaning in towards Hadi's stiff body, "And when I told him that I wanted you; well, of course he complied!" The creepy lady whispered in his ear.

To anybody else, it would've looked like they were two best friends who were sharing secrets. And perhaps for that very reason Mr Kanoo and Hadi's father had assumed something else out of a situation that was now excruciating for Hadi to continue pretending that she was ok with.

"We should leave them to talk amongst themselves," Hadi whipped her head and looked at her father with pleading eyes. When it was clear he wasn't going to do anything, she had to take matters into her own hands.

"NO!" The chair on which she was sitting on scraped loudly against the rough asphalt of the ground.

"I mean," Hadi cleared her throat as her father and Mr Kanoo's scrutinising gaze pierced through her, "I have a meeting to attend and I really should get going," She quickly stood up, dusting off the ridiculous sweater she was wearing in the name of golf.

"I hope you don't mind me leaving so suddenly," Hadi smiled and tried to use all the charm she could, hoping that they fall for it.

"Of course, of course!" Mr Kanoo laughed heartily, "You have a company to run, I understand," She shook hands with the older man one more time and briskly walked, (it was more of a run, really), back to the locker room and changed out of her atrocious outfit in record time, from where she made her way to the parking lot again and drove out of this club as fast as the speed limit would let her.

She breathed out out in relief-- a breath she didn't even know she was holding-- as she slowly reached the familiar traffic in the main road. The experience at the golf club was something she never thought she'd live and she vowed never to go back to that place again; which was a shame because the food was amazing.

Hadi sighed, what would she have done if the meeting for discussing the project wasn't scheduled today? She shook her head and dismissed those thoughts. Groaning again, she leaned against the steering wheel when it was evident that this traffic was not going to ease up anytime soon.

This is exactly why she never left home.

It took Hadi almost an hour and a half for her to finally reach her office. If she hadn't left the club at the time she did, she'd probably have missed her meeting.

Hadi entered the lobby, greeting the workers as she made her way to the meeting room. This project was something she needed to do. This was singlehandedly, the most important project that Hadi has worked on, and she wondered if there was something that could top its importance.

"Chairman sir! you're here!" Hadi smiled and took her seat at the far end of the room and picked up one of the files lying on the table.

She read over every detail with outmost precision, being careful not to miss even the tiniest of details.

"I think we should tweak up the decor a bit," Everyone in the room analysed the papers that lay spread on the conference table.

"You know, make it a little more homely," Hadi glanced at the interior designers she'd hired for this project, looking for their approval.

"I suppose we could stray from the whole 'high society' vibe we had going on," At their approval, Hadi breathed a sigh of relief.

The next hour was spent on finalising the interior of the shelter, to make it as welcoming as possible. Every small thing, from the colour of the lights, to the accessibility of the furniture was addressed.

Eventually came the time for the the finance department  to propose a solution for the funding issue; and the CFO, Khalid Yusuf and his team did not disappoint.

"We thought of something like this," He looked at Hadi and brought the plans, "There are lots of investors who've given the go, right?" Hadi nodded and Khalid continued, "So we can make use of the trust fund we set up, and also hold fundraisers and donations," Hadi was smiling now.

"I like that idea. We should hold an event once every 3 months," She nodded to herself, "And it can be something that people enjoy," The Event management team took this as their cue to formulate ideas.

"Sir, I think we could do something different for every fundraiser we hold," A meek voice suggested from the back of the room, going silent when their superior was glaring at them.

"Sorry sir, I told him not to interrupt but--"

"No," Hadi raised her palm to stop the employee from glaring at the poor intern, who now looked terrified.

"Go on," She urged the intern to continue what they were saying. The intern glanced at their superior once again, and Hadi sighed.

"Ignore them and continue," The intern paled and nodded.

"If we could conduct a different event for each fundraiser, it would not only be more fun, but will also increase participation," The intern grew a little more confident at their boss's nod.  

"And increased participation means--"

"--More funds generated." Hadi was impressed. "What do you suggest we do for the first fundraiser then?" The intern looked at her in disbelief.

"Wait you're actually serious?" She frowned, what part of her looked like she was joking?

"Of course I am, why would I joke about this," She looked at the bundle of nerves in front of her. The intern was so happy, his face was almost ready to split in half.  

"Thank you so much sir, I promise I won't disappoint!" To everyone's surprise, the intern-- whose name Hadi later learned was Tyrone Booker-- presented an amazing idea that everyone thought was extremely fun to both plan and partake in, and personally speaking, Hadi couldn't wait until this plan was put in action.

Now the usual drill would be to schedule a meeting sometime in the coming weeks, but seeing as they were already behind schedule, Hadi decided it would be more productive if they stayed and finished the discussion today, so she could not only enjoy her vacation, but also that the preparation for the event itself would have more time and they wouldn't have to rush into anything.

"I know you all are probably tired, but I think we may have to spend the night finagling our plans for the fundraiser," Hadi was quick to notice the annoyance that bubbled in the room, "Let's do one thing," She glanced at her watch, "It's 9:30 now, so let's take a break for an hour, to eat or plan, whatever you want, and we'll get back to our discussion at 10:30. Sound's good?" Everyone agreed, although reluctant, they understood that it was either they spent another 3 hours here today, or they had to rush in with all the plans in the last minute.

The heads of department and their respective teams all went to their own places all over the office building. A few in the library, a few down in the lobby and some even went to the rooftop. But everyone in the building, including Hadi herself, had ordered themselves a hot meal that was coming their way too, and perhaps that was what kept them going.

Hadi pondered how she would use her time. She knew she couldn't waste much just thinking about what to do, so she just caught up with some of her friends on social media.

Hadi only stopped texting when she got her food, some good ol' Spicy Ramen. Just the smell of the Ramen itself was enough to brighten anyone's mood and today, she felt her mood instantly lift up one she had a bite of her food.

I'm forgetting something, aren't I?' Hadi paused the intense inhaling of her food and wondered why she suddenly thought she was forgetting something. She eventually attempted to brush it off thinking that she was just being anxious.

Key word: attempted.

Because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she wasn't forgetting anything, a small voice in the back of her head kept telling her to remember. But Hadi could not, for the love of her life, remember what it was that she had forgotten to do, when it suddenly hit her like a truck, she promised her friend Meghana that she'd call her father.

Mentally cursing herself, she texted Meghana and asked her if it went too late for her to call Meghana's dad. Luckily she wasn't and she talked to Meghana's father, who-- to Hadi's surprise-- wasn't as bad as she thought he would be.

She answered all of his questions like, 'Will there be alcohol,' 'What all are you planning to do,' 'How long is the trip,' and 'Please don't let Meghana do stupid things.' The last one was more of a request, but Hadi complied nonetheless, there was no way Meghana could do such stupid things, right? Unbeknownst to her, she was actually underestimating how much of a chaos that girl really was.

But Meghana's father ended the call stating that he's willing to send Meghana on the trip, so I guess that was a success? Hadi doubted her socialising skills, but they weren't that bad!

After that whole fiasco, Hadi finished up her dessert for the night, and chatted with her (friends? She really didn't know at this point) for some more time,

Only when the team members started coming back in did Hadi realise that she's been chatting with her friends for almost 45 minutes.

They resumed the meeting with a little more vigour compared to when they left an hour ago, and Hadi was happy to see the progress they'd made in the short time they'd been allotted.

"So I thought that maybe going with a little more laid-back, casual style for the venue would be great, seeing that many of our guests are either going to be businessmen or just normal people out there for a good time," Tyrone explained, turning to face the people in front of him,

"The casual vibe will also help the employees and people have a great time in general, and will also lighten up the environment as opposed to a more professional one," Hadi felt that this particular reasoning was weak, but made no comment on it and instead waited for him to continue.

"A causal theme is also beneficial for our company as it boosts the overall company image and the relationship between the employees. Its also a great networking opportunity for people who're looking forward to socialising, and in fact, I would say that the whole atmosphere promotes creativity and improves motivation,"

"And lastly," Tyrone smiled sheepishly, "Although I feel like this is out of my place to say this, the environment is especially great if you have a lot of pent up stress and you're looking for a way to release it. No offence to anyone here, but some employees could really use the stress relief; and I am not even talking about our main event, I feel like the overall mood is very uplifting," He concluded, looking at Hadi for confirmation.

"I think the casual theme world be a great idea," Hadi deduced, the reason-- although it was presented as a lengthy one-- was very simple. People needed to enjoy what they payed the money for.

"And the main event is also very fitting for this theme, in my opinion." Elissa-- one of the interior designers she'd hired-- remarked.

"I agree, you can't have a bowling alley with a professional theme," Yazra, the head of the Marketing team added.

As the majority of people agreed with the casual theme, they decided that it would be the final theme. It took them another 3 hours to finalise the venue, the food and most importantly, the cost of entry. But finally, they were done!

Hadi was so tired, she could literally fall asleep on the conference table. But unfortunately, she didn't have that privilege. She thanked everyone for their immense help, time and contribution and eventually drove back home.

The streets, to her bad luck were filled with heavy traffic and Hadi was almost ready to cry. This day had already tested her patience and will to live enough; so why on Earth was this day just getting worse at it progressed? She hoped--prayed even-- that Blu did not trash the entire house by the time she got back. She was in no way, mentally (or physically) capable of dealing with his destructive tendencies.

'Finally' Hadi thought as the traffic started to clear out and she could drive back to her apartment and s l e e p. The feel of her bed and the comfort it brought was so close, Hadi could f e e l it in her bones.

15 more minutes. Just 15 more minutes and she'd be in the comfort of her home, with the warmth of her duvet and her smol kitten.

She entered the building with a newfound determination, greeting the security who was on his night-shift, and then made her way to the elevator and went up to the 25th floor; her floor. Technically she was the only habitant of the apartment of that floor, so there really was no harm in calling it 'her' floor.  

Hadi realised just how tired she was after she punched in the passcode to her flat and swiftly made her way inside. She barely had the energy to move, let alone change her clothes, but she managed to gather all the energy she could and changed into her night clothes. A quick check on her cat told her that Blu-- like her-- was getting ready for bedtime, curling his tiny body in the small bed that Hadi got for him; and Hadi was overjoyed to find out that Blu hadn't trashed anything today. She guessed that even the most destructive of animals get tired of breaking stuff every once in a while.

Without any other distractions, Hadi plopped on her bed and drifted to sleep as soon as her face hit the pillow.

And so she slept, without a care in the world, because starting tomorrow, she was on vacation; and this time, she will make sure that she enjoys every single minute of it.

______________

A/N:

So,,,,, uhm,,,,, *shuffles and looks at cue cards* *Ducks under the table because of the rotten tomatoes being thrown*

I know I was supposed to post this earlier but I honestly have no excuses this time,,, I was suddenly hit with writers block and I was trying so hard to finish this piece, but it was so hard because I know literally nothing about the corporate world or how its run for that matter. I managed to evade it in the first chapter but I needed that info this time,,,,

So a big thanks and shoutout to my mom for sitting wit me and explaining business terms and answering my useless questions lmao. I hope you enjoyed this, and also let me take the time to remind you to be nice, and USE THE PREFERRED PRONOUNS OF PEOPLE WHO ASK YOU TO USE THEM. Unless they've told you otherwise,,,,

Anyways, I promise the next chapter will be up sooner than this one,,,

Signing off like always,,

Meg❤️.

[horrorkingdom]

Creepy pasta

The Seer of Possibilities

Sometimes, otherworldly beings find interesting ways to try and contact you. They might use a Ouija Board, or maybe come to you in a dream, or sometimes they speak through another person. They each have their own style and preference that’s particular to them. The one who contacted Jack spoke to him through his computer, or, I guess you could say the communication was through onscreen text. The first time it happened, Jack had been sitting at his computer playing Solitaire. A blinking red light from the router indicated that his internet connection was down again. This was at least a weekly occurrence, and Jack was getting used to this spotty internet service. As he moved his cards, the game faded into a solid black screen and the red text appeared.

“Hi Jack, I need a favor from you. You’re a very special person and I know you’ll help me. I can’t ask this of just anyone. I really need your help.”

Jack paused for a second. The router light was still blinking red. “Is this some sort of joke?” He couldn’t help but wondering.

Several moments later the message continued, “Yes Jack, I know this is weird for you. But I don’t want you to worry. This is just a small, easy favor I need. I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.”

Now nearly in a panic, Jack reached around and pulled the internet cable completely from the wall.

“Still here, Jack. I don’t want to waste any more of your time so I’ll get right to what I need. Tomorrow when you go to work I need you to move the large potted plant that’s next to the elevator on the ground floor. All you have to do is pull it out three inches from the wall. If you do it at 8:17am nobody else will be in the area.”

Jack sat there, refusing to respond, still trying to figure out what was happening.

The writing continued, “Look Jack, I’m asking you because I KNOW you’ll do it. You won’t let me down. You’re special. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Jack pulled the power cord from the wall and the computer went blank. “Did that really just happen?” he thought.

Still shaking from the experience, he took a warm shower and got ready for bed, convincing himself that he’d either had some crazy dream or that is was just some elaborate joke. But who would play that kind of joke on him? He didn’t really have friends, or enemies.

He woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Work would start at 8:30am, and Jack was never late. He pulled into the parking lot at 8:10am. Normally he’d just go right in, but the message had told him to move the plant at 8:17am. Was he really going to do it? Overnight, Jack’s fear had turned into curiosity. Let’s say he moved the plant, he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong or illegal, right? In Jack’s mind, the most reasonable course of action was to move the plant. He’d do it, nothing would happen, and he’d be able to put this whole crazy matter behind him. One minute before 8:17 Jack left his car and walked towards the building. He entered the foyer at the exact time he was supposed to. The message was right, nobody else was around.

“Odd,” Jack thought. The building was normally busy this time of morning, but this temporary lull had been accurately predicted.

“Fine! Let’s see what happens,” Jack muttered to himself.

He walked up to the large potted plant placed firmly between the two elevators in the lobby of the ten story building. The plant looked like it was fake, a decoration people passed every day without really noticing. It was heavier than Jack realized. He put some might into his effort and pulled the plant out three inches to his best estimate. He stood back and looked at the plant, then looked around the lobby. People were coming in behind him now and the lobby was starting to fill up again. Nobody seemed to notice the plant was in a slightly different location, nothing seemed different at all. Jack skipped the next elevator and waited, waited for…something. But nothing happened. Finally Jack entered the elevator and made it to his 7th floor cubicle, on time like always.

If you ever asked Jack’s coworkers to describe him, you’d hear words like polite, quiet, respectful, and competent. And while those words were all accurate, they gave little indication of the truth, the truth that Jack really didn’t like most people. That’s not to say he disliked them, just that he had very little interest in getting to know them or being their friend, save for one. Allie, the girl who sat two cubicles down from him, was the only person he wanted to know more about. With her big smile, blonde hair, and beautiful figure, Jack was very interested in learning all about her. Despite his lack of success with women in the past, he was actually doing a fair job getting to know her. Every morning as he passed her cubicle, he’d stop for a chat. The chats were one minute at first, then two minutes, then several minutes. Jack was surprised that she actually seemed to like him.

On this particular morning, their daily conversation lasted only a couple of minutes. As they exchanged their morning greetings and talked about Allie’s wild night out, the elevator doors opened up behind them. Out hobbled James Bentley, the boss of both Jack and Allie.

James’ loud complaining could be heard throughout the office, “My damn foot!”

“What happened, James?” came the mumbled queries.

“It’s that damn plant they have in the lobby. I ran right into it and twisted my ankle.”

“James, you can barely walk. You need to go to the hospital,” came Allie’s concerned reply.

“Can’t do it now. I have meetings all day. Too important to cancel. I’ll just have to tough it out.”

Jack, feeling stunned, left Allie’s cubicle mid conversation and sunk down into his chair. It was his fault, he was sure of it. How could he have been so stupid and careless? Still, no use in worrying about it now. A twisted ankle would heal, everything would be alright.

Upon his return home, Jack went immediately to his computer and turned it on. As soon as the computer booted up, the screen went black and a new message popped up.

“How was your day, Jack?”

He sat there, staring at the screen, not knowing how to answer. The message on the screen continued, “Actually, I know how your day was, but never let it be said that I’m not polite. You’re wondering what’s going on. You want to know why James Bentley had to twist his ankle. Well Jack, this chain of events isn’t done playing out. I don’t want to tell you too much too soon, but this will all make sense to you in short order. Just go to work tomorrow like you normally do. Don’t worry about a thing Jack. You’ll be rewarded. You’re special. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Jack sat back in his chair. What was going on? Who was this was sending him messages? Jack’s curiosity was fully engaged, and he was almost a bit excited to see what would happen next.

The next morning at work started off as any ordinary day. Jack noticed that the plant had been pushed back fully against the wall, probably by the night cleaning crew. James Bentley showed up shortly after lunch, hobbling into the office on his one good foot.

“Man this foot is killing me,” Jack could overhear him say, but apparently James still had a meeting he didn’t want to miss. It wasn’t until around 3 o’clock that Jack saw him again. James, who always seemed to prefer Allie over others, came limping up to her cubicle.

“Allie, you’re not doing anything right now, are you?”

“Um, no. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow I guess.”

“Good, could you please drive me to see my Doctor? I probably should’ve gone yesterday, but I just couldn’t get away. This pain is just killing me right now and I don’t think I can drive myself, I barely made it here this morning and I don’t think I can even push the gas pedal right now. We can take my car if you want.”

“Yeah that’s fine James, I don’t have a problem taking you.” Turning to Jack she said her goodbye, “See you tomorrow, Jackie.” She put on her coat and slowly followed James as he struggled down the hallway. She gave a half turn and a shrug in Jack’s direction, with a little smile as she walked away. Jack felt even lonelier than normal when she was gone.

It was ten minutes later that they all heard the crash. It was preceded by the loud horn of an 18 wheeler and screeching brakes. The collision itself was a sickening thud of two large metal object colliding. Even on the 7th floor it was loud. The office workers gasped and ran to the windows.

“Is that James’ car?” One of them asked.

“Hard to tell from up here,” someone responded, “It’s so banged up.”

The horrifying implication of what’d just happened came to Jack immediately.

“No, no, no,” he though. “This can’t be true.”

Shaking all the way, he ran to the elevator and went to the ground floor along with several others from the office. Some of them were crying. As they joined the growing crowd around the scene of the accident, Jack could hear the far off sound of emergency sirens. Looking past the gawkers, he could see that the 18 wheeler had hit James’ car broadside, its driver had been thrown out onto the pavement where he lay motionless. James was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, motionless but with a surprised look on his bloody face. Jack couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. The driver’s side, where Allie was seated, had taken the hit. The space she’d been occupying had been compacted to a third of its original size. Allie’s head was smashed open and her twisted body was broken and battered. The crowd was stunned. Tears, screams, sirens; that was all Jack could hear. Without going back inside the building, Jack ran to his car and drove home, angry and sad.

He made the journey home and to his computer. There the machine sat, he wanted to turn it on, but was afraid of what he’d find out. Was he really the one responsible for Allie’s death? The whole chain of events had started with him. He knew he was to blame. Jack reached for the power button, and then pulled his hand back. Finally, after several minutes, he found the mental strength to turn it on. The screen flickered and then went black, and the familiar text started appearing on the screen.

“No Jack, it’s not your fault. I know you’re blaming yourself. But all people die eventually, some just sooner than others.”

Jack stared at the screen. He resisted the urge to throw the monitor to the ground.

After a moment, the writing continued, “Jack, I’m going to tell you something, and I really need you to seriously consider everything I’m about to say. You thought you were in love with Allie. The truth is, you just wanted to fuck her. And please excuse my language, but every once in a great while it’s best to be blunt. Jack, she wasn’t the one for you. She would’ve made your life miserable. Yes, you would’ve eventually found the courage to ask her out. She actually was interested in you. She thought you’d make a good “project.” Sad really, for her, not for you. I want you to think back to all the things she told you. Why did her last boyfriend break up with her?”

“Because she cheated on him,” Jack mumbled under his breath.

“Because she cheated on him, Jack. The same thing she would’ve done to you. She would’ve made you happy for about 2 months, and then miserable for the next 4 years. Sneaking around, laughing at you behind your back, spending all your money. Once you finally got rid of her, you would’ve been so jaded that you’d never date again. This is true Jack. I see all future possibilities, the ones that come to pass and the ones that don’t. You’ve seen how she really is Jack, but you let your lust for her blind you to the truth. Together, you and I have made sure you avoided that path. One more thing Jack, this isn’t done playing out yet. There’s more to come.”

“No! Fuck you! You killed her!” Jack screamed and threw the monitor from the desk. It landed on the floor and sparked out.

Jack got barely any sleep that night, and the next day he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to work, but the last words he’d been told had piqued his curiosity, and his anger had somewhat subsided. No work was done that day at the office. The company brought in grief counselors, people shared their thoughts, they cried, they hugged. James had actually survived the accident, but was in a coma. The doctors thought he might recover eventually, but nobody was really sure.

Late in the afternoon, Jack was approached by Diego Salbara, the head of the division. Diego was blunt and upfront, and he offered James’ position to Jack. Technically it would be a temporary promotion, but James wouldn’t be back any time soon. Diego promised him that the promotion would be made permanent once enough time had passed.

“Let’s keep this low key for now.” Diego told him. “I know it might seem quick, but the Lancaster project James was working on can’t be stopped. It’s too important to the company. I need someone in charge right away, this can’t wait.”

Stunned, Jack accepted the promotion. He left work with a strange mixture of feelings, not really sure how he felt about anything. On his way home, he stopped at the electronics store and bought a new monitor. He made it home and powered up the computer. Once again the writing came on the screen.

“Jack, I want to be the first one to congratulate you! I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Jack stared at the screen.

“Jack, I have to ask your forgiveness because haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m called the Seer. Like I told you before, I see what will be, and I see what can be. It’s a very powerful gift I have. But you know what, Jack? For all my power, I still can’t do anything corporeal. I can predict, I can see, and with enough effort, I can even communicate. But I don’t have a body, that’s something that was taken from me a long, long time ago. That’s why I need you Jack. I’m an artist of sorts, an artist of human manipulation. You’ll be my paintbrush and my canvas. I want you to work with me Jack. It’s all very simple, just perform simple tasks for me, from time to time.”

Jack was becoming more and more curious.

“And Jack, before you give me an answer, I want you to know a couple of things. First off, I’ll never lie to you. Secondly, I’ll never ask you to do anything which, taken by itself, is wrong or illegal. Yes, bad things will result, and sometimes people will die. But they’re going to die eventually anyways, right Jack? And the bad will always be balanced out by something good happening to you.”

Jack winced at this last idea, but he fought the urge to turn the computer off. The Seer was right. Everyone would die eventually, why not let something good come of it? And what about never lying to him? If he’d known at the time that Allie was going to die, he’d have never gone through with the original favor. But as he thought more about it, he realized The Seer hadn’t lied to him, but had only withheld information. Still, Jack wondered if he could trust The Seer.

“Work with me Jack, together we’ll make incredible things happen. I’m just asking you to perform little tasks from time to time. Oh, but these little tasks will have great consequences! They’re going to be beautiful Jack, and they’ll always end with a reward for you. That’s the beauty of my art, one single task produces something bad and something good. Oh, one last thing Jack, I can see you’re having trouble with this. If I stopped talking to you right now, it would take you about two weeks to decide to join me. But you know what Jack, you WOULD join me. That’s right, you’re going to say yes. So instead of waiting, why don’t you just say yes to me now? Let’s get started Jack. And when all this is over, you’re going to thank me. I promise you.”

Jack considered what The Seer had just said. His initial feeling of revolt was slowly fading. He paused, and then for the first time, he placed his fingers on the keyboard and responded directly to The Seer. “What do you want me to do next?”

_____________________________

As years passed, Jack did every favor the Seer asked of him, and as the Seer had promised, Jack was rewarded for his actions each time. The rewards often came in unexpected and interesting ways. One of the more memorable experiences for Jack happened about 2 years after he first agreed to help the Seer.

“Jack, I need you to go downtown tomorrow,” the Seer requested. “Enter Garmin’s Liquor at exactly 12:37pm. A man will ask you a question. The answer you’re to give him is ‘twenty seven.’”

As always, the Seer’s instructions were simple and direct, yet mysterious. The next day, as requested, Jack entered the store. In front of him, a burly construction worker was at the counter filling out a lottery playslip.

“Let’s see here,” said the construction worker, “My birthday, that’s the 15th, my wife’s birthday, that’s the 24th, and my kids’ ages, two, ten and thirteen.”

The man scratched his head and looked around, zeroing in on Jack, “Hey buddy! I need another number. Ya got one for me?”

Jack smiled, “Twenty seven.”

“Really? I was thinkin’ bout playin’ thirty five. But ya know what? I like your face, let’s go with twenty seven!”

With that, the man completed his slip and paid for his lottery ticket. “See ya, pal!” he said happily and he patted Jack on the shoulder on his way out the door.

Jack tried not to put any more thought into what would happen to this man. “Just let these things play out, Jack. You’ll never guess how things end up, so just let yourself be surprised,” the Seer had advised him. Still, it was impossible not to wonder about these things from time to time. He knew, considering the way the Seer worked, there was no way possible that he’d actually helped this man. But giving him a losing lottery number? That was too simple for the Seer. And he couldn’t imagine he’d actually given him a winning number. So that’s how Jack was surprised, when two weeks later, he ran into the same man again, this time at the grocery store.

“Hey buddy! It’s you! I remember you! Check it out, I won!” Indeed, the man looked like a million dollars. Wearing new clothes, a new gold watch, and a big goofy smile, the man walked right up to Jack.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad you’re here. I coulda never won without you. Hey, lemme buy these groceries for you. No wait, that’s not good enough for you, you’re my good luck charm. Always gotta treat people right, that’s what my mom says.”

Reaching into his pocket, the man removed his checkbook and promptly wrote Jack a check for ten thousand dollars. “It’s the least I can do for my good luck charm.”

After thanking the man, and feeling a bit confused by the whole thing, Jack raced home to his computer. After turning it on, the Seer’s writing appeared on the screen. “Well Jack, how does it feel to be ten thousand dollars richer?”

“It feels good. But I can’t help but wonder, we’ve never helped anyone before. Why are we starting now?” Jack asked that question with a tinge of guilt. He never liked to admit that people were being hurt by his actions, but in this case his curiosity overwhelmed any latent feelings of guilt.

“Oh Jack, we haven’t helped anyone. Yes, that man is happy now, but he’ll have lost every last penny within two years. You saw it for yourself, he just gives money away. Old friends, lost relatives, they’re all going to come asking him for money. And there will be some very bad investments as well. The stress of losing everything is going to cause his wife to leave him. She’ll take the kids too. He’ll be alone and broke, a ruined man who would have been much better off if he’d never won. You needn’t feel bad Jack, it’s the man’s own stupidity and greed that will do this to him.”

Jack felt some regret, but the Seer’s rationalizing, and focusing on his own reward, always put him at peace in the end.

Through the years, no two tasks were ever alike. Sometimes the effects of his actions were direct and easy to see, other times they caused a chain reaction so complex that he simply could not follow it.

“Go to the County Administrator’s building, park in space number 43 at 4:47pm.” came one such request. Jack did so, and two months later he met Donna, with whom he fell in love and ended up marrying. He wouldn’t have even known the two events were even related if he hadn’t asked the Seer about it.

“Jack, when you parked in that space, you caused the person who would’ve parked there to park in a different spot, but she bumped the car next to her. She barely made a scratch, but she called her insurance agent anyway, causing him to leave the office late. He missed his train home, and while waiting for the late train, he was mugged and stabbed, he’ll never fully recover. The muggers took his credit cards and used them…..and Jack, I could keep going with this, but there’s another twenty three people involved. Sometimes these favors are going to be very complicated, but let’s just say your action ultimately caused Donna to be in the exact right place for you to meet her.”

Jack’s relationship with the Seer grew. Though remaining mostly mysterious, the Seer divulged enough information over time so that Jack could get a generalized understanding of the Seer’s history. From historical references, Jack knew the Seer was thousands of years old. When still alive, the Seer had been a powerful fortune teller and artist, who foretold future happenings through paintings. A foolish king, who misinterpreted the Seer’s prediction and lost a battle as a result, had the Seer executed. Unencumbered by physical senses, and existing in a lonesome void, the Seer’s abilities expanded exponentially. Finally learning to communicate with the living, the Seer began reaching out to those who would respond, including Jack. And of course, the Seer knew everything about Jack. In all, it was as much of a friendship as one can have with a dead person. And Jack was grateful to the Seer too. He had a nice job, a nice house, a beautiful wife, and people respected him. He was happy, which is something he never really felt before the Seer contacted him.

Twelve years in total passed, twelve good years for Jack. Task after task was completed, usually about one every month. Jack, sitting in the office of his large rural house, was contacted by the Seer once again.

“Hi Jack, I have a favor to ask of you. This one’s the easiest yet, you don’t even have to get up. Call Riago’s Pizza in exactly two minutes, let the phone ring three times, then you can hang up.”

Jack smiled, nice and easy. He no longer wondered about how these tasks would play out. He trusted the Seer and simply did as he was told. Jack made the call, exactly two minutes later.

The quietness of the household was broken 30 minutes later by the ringing doorbell. “That’s odd,” Jack thought. Neither he nor Donna were expecting anyone. Jack looked out the peephole and saw a pizza deliver boy. The logo on his cap said “Riago’s Pizza”.

Jack opened the door. “Here’s your pizza,” said the boy as he thrust it into Jack’s hand.

“But I didn’t order this.” Jack argued.

“Look, I don’t give a damn if you ordered it or not. Mr. Riago told me to take it here, so that’s what I’m doing.” the delivery boy argued, as he looked increasingly annoyed and spat in the bushes.

Jack looked at the boy in front of him. He looked to be about seventeen years old, but the most noticeable thing about him was his size, he was huge. Probably about six and a half feet tall, and very muscular.

“It’s already paid for by credit card, just take it, because I’m not driving it back.” The boy put out his hand for a tip.

“I, I don’t have any cash on me.” Jack told the truth.

“Whatever,” came the disgusted reply. The boy looked past Jack into the house, then turned and walked slowly to his waiting car, looking over his shoulder as he walked.

Jack closed the door and took the pizza to the living room, where Donna was watching TV. After explaining what had happened, he excused himself to go to his office, promising to return shortly.

Donna opened the pizza and took a piece. “Come back soon sweetie, this pizza’s got all your favorite toppings on it.” Donna giggled as she took a bite.

Arriving at his computer, the Seer’s words appeared on the screen. “Confused, Jack? Don’t be. Your neighbor down the road ordered the pizza. Mr. Riago told that boy the correct address, but a ringing phone made it difficult for him to be heard clearly. Still, give the boy credit, he got the street right at least.”

“So my reward is a pizza?” Jack typed, a little confused.

“Yes Jack, your reward is a pizza, and also the chance to spend a little time with your wife. Go down there, share the pizza, enjoy it. When you’re done, make love to Donna. That’s not one of your tasks, that’s just some advice I think you should follow. Oh, by the way, your neighbors who ordered the pizza are arguing right now, over the silly fact that the pizza didn’t arrive. Some of the things people argue over amaze me, they really do. Their fight is going to get very heated, but you don’t need to worry about that. Go, enjoy your night.”

Jack followed the Seer’s advice, cuddled with Donna as they enjoyed their meal, then made love to her on their big, comfortable living room couch. Donna fell asleep on the couch shortly after 11:00pm. Jack lay there awake, this latest favor, it just felt odd. Carefully extracting his arm from under Donna, Jack left the living room and headed upstairs. Sitting down at the computer, Jack typed, “Are you there?”

“Yes Jack, I’m actually always here. I’ve been waiting for you to come back. That pizza delivery boy. He’s quite a specimen, isn’t he?”

Jack looked quizzically at the screen.

The seer continued, “He’s a horrible employee. He was hired only three days ago and already Mr. Riago wants to fire him, but as a physical specimen, he’s strong, fast, and VERY observant. For example, he noticed that you didn’t lock the front door after he delivered your pizza.”

“What?” Jack said aloud as he started to get up.

“Sit down Jack. I need to tell you something important, and locking the door now won’t change your situation.”

Jack slowly took his seat again at the computer, looking behind himself as he did so.

“You see Jack, it’s true that I never lied to you. Everything I’ve ever told you is 100% honest. But yes, I’ve withheld certain facts. You see, I told you that every task causes something bad to happen to someone else and something good to happen to you, but there’s a third thing. There’s an ultimate goal that each task was working toward. Remember Allie? Of course you do. What you probably don’t remember about her is that she was helping to pay her brother’s way through college. When she died, he had to drop out. He was going to be a great psychologist, but now he works in a factory instead. That’s really too bad for our pizza delivery boy, he could’ve used a good therapist a few years ago, but that good therapist wasn’t there for him, instead he got some Freudian quack. And remember our lottery winner? Yes you do. He was a neighbor to our pizza boy, after he lost all his money of course. He beat the boy senseless after the boy jumped into the street in front of his car. Quite a traumatic memory for our young lad. And his mother didn’t care about that incident, didn’t protect the boy at all. She couldn’t, not after using all the drugs given to her by her boyfriend, who happened to be one of the muggers who robbed that insurance agent. He bought the drugs with the money he made from the robbery. Do you see now the scope of my artistry?”

Jack sat, glaring at the monitor. He wanted to get up, to check on Donna, but he was too scared to move.

The Seer continued, “Jack, you’ve done over a hundred tasks for me, and each one has served an ultimate purpose, to psychologically destroy this boy, turn him into a monster, and to bring him here tonight. Don’t you see Jack? This involved tens of thousands of people, and billions of possibilities. If you had failed to complete even one of the tasks, the whole chain would’ve collapsed. This was orchestrated by me, and set in motion by you. Together we’ve done something wonderful, this is a masterpiece of human manipulation. Our masterpiece. And it all begins and ends with you, two perfect points in time. Tonight, wrong address, no tip, this poor boy finally snapped. He’s downstairs right now. He’s slitting Donna’s throat, at this exact moment.

Jack could hear a short, muffled scream coming from the living room, followed by a gurgling noise.

“No!” Jack screamed and stood up, starting to run downstairs.

“Jack, stop!” The voice startled Jack. It was inside his head. For the first time, the Seer was talking to him directly. It was a pleasant voice, a feminine voice. “You can’t do anything, she’s already gone. He’ll be coming for you shortly, and you can’t stop him.”

“But why?” Jack cried with tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s not an artistic masterpiece if it doesn’t begin and end with you, Jack.” Her voice was soothing. “I want you to appreciate the fact that I’m talking to you directly. This requires all of my energy, and as a result, I’ll have to rest for several years before I can contact anyone again. That’s how special you are to me. Please don’t feel bad about this, Jack. I want you to take a moment and enjoy our accomplishment as much as I do.” The voice paused briefly, and then continued. “Do you know what Jack? If I’d never contacted you, you would have lived for eighty five years. Eighty five boring, meaningless, and bitter years. And when you died, nobody would’ve been at your funeral. I gave you twelve great, meaningful years. You were happy, and together we did something beautiful, something unique.”

Jack paused a minute and considered his twelve years of happiness, and his tears of sorrow mixed with tears of joy. He turned and looked at the computer, while behind him, the massive hulk of the demented delivery boy appeared in the doorway, a bloody knife in his left hand.

On the screen, the last words from the Seer appeared, “Don’t you have something to say to me, Jack?”

Jack wiped his tears, and absorbed everything the Seer had just told him.

As the hulk started stepping closer to him, Jack said mouthed his final words, “Thank you.”

Credit To – Thomas O.

[kikizoshi]

Fyolai OTP List

Original list taken from sonse’s The Ultimate OTP Questions List: Fyogol Edition

I urge anyone interested in my list to go look at sonse’s, too. They have a lot of cool takes. (There’re 48 questions in total.)

        1. Who is the most affectionate?

Neither of them are super affectionate or touchy-feely, really.. I guess you could say that Fyodor’s more touchy, but even then it’s usually only fingertips… But yeah, usually there isn’t much touching in general.

         2. Most common argument?

Argument… Well, it’s hard to really call it an argument. Usually, Nikolai’ll get upset at Fyodor not seeing him as a person or manipulating him and go off for a few days or weeks until he can come back and pretend he was never upset. Fyodor, for his part, doesn’t acknowledge it and just welcomes Nikolai back when he returns.

         3. Who apologizes first?

Well... Fyodor's too arrogant to assume he's done something wrong, and Nikolai's too prone to brush past things he doesn't want to think about... So they kinda just leave it to fester in the corner and continue about their days.

         4. Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?

It depends on the mood. But, most commonly, Fyodor's favourite activity is to curl up in a private place (library, nook, underground base, etc.) with Nikolai and read with him, each occasionally sharing thoughts or questions--or even conversations--about their individual books. Nikolai's favourite activity, however, is taking Fyodor out to a carnival, or the theatre, or a fair--something fun and flashy.

         5. Who drives and who rides shotgun?

Public transportation~ (though, in cases where that's not possible, it just depends on location and need, so probably about 60/40 for Nikolai and Fyodor.)

         6. Who is most likely to carry the other?

Nikolai's way more likely to carry Fyodor as, well, Fyodor'd struggle to lift someone his own weight. That being said, I don't see this happening unless out of necessity, as they're both fairly independent.

         7. Nicknames?

Russian ones? Yes, probably. I imagine Nikolai'd call Fyodor Fedya (since he calls him Dos-kun in Japanese), and Fyodor... he'd probably just stick with the name Nikolai (or maybe “golubchik” (little dove) on rare occasions?).

         8. Who proposes?

Ehh, I highly doubt they'd get married, since Nikolai's all 'society's norms are hellish brainwashing' and Fyodor likely just doesn't care (it’d be a hassle for nothing).

         9. Who sings along to the radio?

Nikolai, though it's rarely lyrics since all Fyodor listens to is classical pieces or old operas Nikolai can't decipher. He'll hum along quite a lot, though.

         10. Who worries most?

I feel like Nikolai's more of a worrier in general. Like, in his moments of downtime, with nothing to distract him from the futility of his goals, he'll worry and worry about what he should do, what he's doing, how what he'll do will affect the future, etc. Fyodor's more sure of himself, so I don't see him worrying about much. Maybe about Dazai, though...

         11. Who always wants to take selfies with the other?

Nikolai would secretly like to (though not so secretly, considering how perceptive Fyodor is), but Fyodor won't let evidence of himself in a location be found, lest the picture be stolen and used against him. Nikolai usually doesn't mind, though, unless they're in a once-in-a-decade place. He complained about not being able to hold onto mental pictures like Fyodor once, when they went to see a travelling fair that was doing its last tour.

         12. Who likes to playfully tease the other?

Nikolai, completely. He'll enter the room with a joke, and leave it that way too, as well as adding them in the whole way through. Fyodor, though, I'd say teases back almost as much, just more subtly and in response. Nikolai initiates the teasing, and Fyodor finishes it with a tease.

         13. Who has the weirdest taste in music?

Depends on your definition of weird. Fyodor listens to mainly classical and old operas, stuff like that, whereas Nikolai's more into modern things with some sort of twist (experimental jazz or electric swing, for example). He also loves musical theatre.

         14. Who remembers what the other always orders at a restaurant?

Well Fyodor remembers everything Nikolai's ever ordered when they were together... Using a word like 'always', though... Fyodor remembers what Nikolai ordered but Nikolai usually gets something different each time, and Fyodor's more uniform with his palate choices, but still tends towards trying out new things half the time. Fyodor could guess what Nikolai was going to get, though.

         15. Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?

Hm, neither of them are.

         17. Who initiates kisses?

Depends on the situation, so I'd say about 50/50. Neither of them are touchy-feely, as I've said, and kissing is only slightly more common than hugs for them. But, generally, Fyodor kisses Nikolai when Nikolai's having a rough day, or when he's trying to get Nikolai to want to do something. Nikolai kisses Fyodor when he's in a really good mood, or when he's really in a bad mood... I'm not sure how to put it properly though...

         18. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

They don’t, really.

         19. Who kisses hardest?

I honestly don't know... I really liked the second half of sonse's answer though.

         20. Who is most ticklish?

Nikolai.

         21. Who brings an animal they found home?

Fyodor would kill the animal to put it out of its misery.

Nikolai would just walk past and think that there's no point in helping.

         22. Who holds the umbrella for the other when it’s raining?

Nikolai, since he's taller and his arm doesn't tire as easily.

         23. Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?

Neither, embarrassing each other isn't something they do.

         24. Who kills the scary bugs?

I mean neither of them are afraid of bugs-

         25. Who asks the weird questions at random in the middle of the night?

Nikolai'll wake up from any number of bizarre dreams, and, if Fyodor's still awake, he'll bring it up.

         26. Who hogs the blankets?

Fyodor. If he's asleep, his subconscious will do all in its power to make him as warm and comfortable as possible, even if it means the freeze of his dear friend (Nikolai usually just ends up draping himself in his cape at that point).

         27. Who wakes up first?

Nikolai wakes up first since he goes to sleep earlier, though he only wakes up first by about thirty minutes.

         28. Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?

Depends... Fyodor's good about getting up when it's a workday, and on the rare day's he'll take off, he still usually gets up quickly to make the most of the day, and drags himself off to the shower. Nikolai, on the other hand... Well, it depends on several things. If he's alright or moderately alright, he'll get out of bed just fine. However, if he killed someone in the month or just, in general, can't stand himself, it'll be a lot harder to convince him to get up. Some days even a gun to his head won't get him out of bed.

         29. Who always makes coffee for the other each morning?

Neither. Ivan makes Fyodor's tea and Nikolai makes his own.

         30. Who cries during certain films or when reading sad books?

Haaaah, well I guess if Nikolai was in a really, really, really (and I mean REALLY) bad place, something might set him off, and a few tears may fall. It's super uncommon though--he usually just bottles his emotions until he can 'forget' about them.

         31. Who gets scared during horror films?

Neither of them scares easily at all.

         32. Who cuts the other’s hair?

They both cut their own.

         33. Who says “I love you” first?

Fyodor says it first, as a way to get Nikolai fully on his side. Nikolai’s said it a few times, in despair, but always pretends it didn’t happen afterwards.

         34. Who tells their friends/family about the relationship first?

Well there isn't really a 'relationship' to tell about? They don't classify their relationship as anything other than lovers and friends, and there’s really no point in mentioning it randomly.

         35. What do their friends/family think about the relationship first?

Well... Pushkin hates Fyodor, always has and always will, and considering how their relationship started... Pushkin does have a reason. Goncharov doesn't care. Fyodor's mother and sister vaguely know about Nikolai. They've met him maybe once or twice, but they just know him as 'Fyodor's friend'. Turgenev... it's best to say that his relationship with Fyodor is... turbulent... but when they end up talking their conversations are usually very fascinating (if they can get over their mutual disdain, that is). Mishima flat-out couldn't care less, why is this being brought up to him?

         36. Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?

Nikolai, probably, after being moved by Dostoyevsky's cello playing.

         37. Who cooks best?

I'd say they're about the same.

         38. Who wears the other’s jacket?

Neither. Nikolai needs his for his Ability and Fyodor's the one that gets cold easily. Nikolai does, however, keep a spare cloak in his Overcoat just in case (though whether or not he’ll offer it to Fyodor depends on his mood, and Fyodor never asks).

         39. Who uses cheesy pickup lines?

Nikolai.

         40. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Both, but in different contexts. Nikolai spontaneously gets ideas from things around them, and excitedly likes to share them with Fyodor on a whim. Fyodor likes to respond to them with a small quip to encourage the idea, though he sometimes does them just in general if he's super bored at a social gathering or something. In any case, they usually do it in a language no one else around is likely to speak.

         41. Who makes the other laugh most?

Fyodor makes Nikolai laugh all the time, though those laughs are always sort of fake (like an extreme version of a small, polite chuckle). Sometimes, though, when Nikolai's in a really good mood, the laughs will be genuine. On the other hand, Nikolai tries to make Fyodor laugh, but doesn't succeed. In the end, neither of them are much to laugh.

         42. Who needs more reassurance?

Nikolai, definitely. Fyodor's sure of himself and his plans, and so is Nikolai to an extent, but Nikolai still gets doubts, which is when Fyodor comes in to tell him that everything is going to work out.

         43. Who would have to bail the other out of jail?

Well... I don't think either of them would pay for bail, but Nikolai'll be fishing Fyodor out of jail (or general captivity) pretty regularly. (It's just such an easy way to extract information!)

         44. What would be their theme song?

Oh boy I have no clue- Maybe ‘The Land of Might-Have-Been’?

         45. Who would sing their child back to sleep?

Fyodor, as he softly touches their forehead and watches the blood pour from their slack lips- On second thought, maybe children isn't such a good idea...

         46. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Oh, all sorts of things. Fyodor does work, gets kidnapped, messes with Dazai. Nikolai bounces from place to place, spends time with friends, finds work or other such things to do. In the end, they don't actually spend that much time together.

         47. A headcanon about them that stabs your feels?

Neither will ever truly achieve fulfilment.

         48. A headcanon that mends the previous one?

:')

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 0.2 - PJM

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,068

AN: Alright guys, get ready for these to hit the timeline back to back! I hope you’re ready! I thoroughly enjoyed writing these and yes, because it’s The Matrix, we are going to get dark in this piece. As I stated before, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432​

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Jimin! Aren’t you coming?”

Jimin casually glanced over his shoulder, readjusting the strap to his backpack in a more comfortable position. A few of his classmates waved to him, urging him to come along. They were finished with their studies for the day and didn’t have any after school activities that required their attention. Normally, they would head to the arcade to mindlessly spend the quarters weighing their pockets down. 

He smiled, shaking his head and waving back at them. “No, you guys go on ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His friends pouted, canting their heads slightly before shrugging. They laughed as they turned to head down the street, all of them declaring loudly how they were going to beat the other into submission in a round of Street Fighter.

Sighing, Jimin pushed his way through the crowd to head to the local library. The internet was faster there and he could focus on what he wanted to work on in peace and quiet. Stopping at a vending machine on the way, he bought a few drinks and some snacks to tide him over until he was forced to stop working due to needing sleep. 

It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for him at home anyway.

Hopping up the stone steps, he entered through the front door and smiled at the library clerk. She was a pretty woman - at least pretty in terms of being an old lady. Late fifties to early sixties at best, he could guess. Jimin never told her his name, however, but she didn’t mind. She always referred to him as “Young Man” and he answered readily with a smile.

“Research again, Young Man?” she asked, holding out a book for him.

Jimin took the item from her, already knowing that she wanted him to put it back where it was supposed to go. He smiled. “Yes ma’am.” He eyed the cover. “Ching Dynasty in the History section, right?”

The old lady beamed at him. “Correct. You’re such a good lad.”

“I try,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, don’t work too hard. I know you’ve been focusing very hard on your project these last few weeks, but you’re young and shouldn’t strain your eyes so much.”

Jimin bowed his head slightly. “I won’t. Thank you.”

He quickly maneuvered around the library, locating the history section and replaced the book. He always had a knack of finding things and Jimin just knew when things were out of place. His teachers called it a “gift” but he had a feeling that it was something else entirely. He just couldn’t place it. Not yet, at least.

Making his way toward the back of the library, he reached a few taupe colored desks nestled in a small nook in the corner. He threw his backpack on top of the shelf portion, unzipping the top and rifling around inside. He pulled out two mini discs and one floppy disc. Reaching further into the pack, his fingers wrapped around the mini computer and the wires needed to make the device work. He wasted no time booting up the computer, setting up the small computer beside the motherboard and plugging things in.

It only took him a few minutes to go through various checks to make sure that his connection was secure. Then he pulled up a few console windows, his fingers typing swiftly over the keys.

???: 

He couldn’t describe the wave of relief that hit him when he saw his chat partner beginning the conversation. Lately Jimin had to be the one to initiate the chat, hoping that he reached them. 

Cobra:

Jimin felt a bead of sweat forming on the bridge of his nose. He knew that this could possibly chase them away. But there was a chance that it wouldn’t. And the information his friend gave him was too profound to ignore.

???: 

Cobra:

???:

Cobra:

???:

It was now or never. Jimin felt like if he didn’t take advantage of this opportunity now, he would never get another one. His chance to obtain the answers to his questions would slip through his fingers like sand. He wouldn’t be able to recover it fast enough.

Cobra:

???:

Cobra:

???:

Blinking at the screen, Jimin reached under the desk and began patting around the surface beneath. His thumb brushed up against something. Curling his fingers around it, he pulled it free - the distinct sound of velcro separating shockingly loud in the quiet confines of his corner. Jimin inspected it, not sure what to make of the item his friend left for him. It was no bigger than a pack of cigarettes, but the container was made of metal.

When did they prepare this?

Though the more pressing question was how did they know he would be sitting at that particular desk on that particular day?

Just how close was his friend?

Jimin couldn’t stop the cold shiver from snaking up his back. He was nervous, but excited. Something was wrong with him.

Cobra:

???:

He watched his friend go offline, leaving him alone. He could sense that there wasn’t much time. Jimin quickly logged off, turned off the computer and haphazardly threw all of his things into his bag. Stuffing the small metal container into his inner jacket pocket, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and made his way to the entrance of the stairs.

The library building was tall - at least thirty stories. Jimin climbed them all. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves hammering around inside of his chest or the adrenaline of excitement rushing his footsteps, but he didn’t care. After months of secret conversations, he was finally going to learn something. He would release the pressure at the back of his brain, telling him that something was wrong with the world that he lived in.

Bursting through the rooftop access door, Jimin was greeted with a swift burst of cold air. The sun had long since set. He didn’t remember being in the library for very long. Was it already that late?

Jimin sensed a flash of movement from his right, his body reacting faster than his mind could process. Leaning back, he dodged a fist that was aimed for the side of his head. Pivoting on his heels, he spun out of reach just as another fist shot out - hoping to strike true. 

“Hey!” he yelled, stumbling back a few paces. “What’s the big idea?!”

Standing in front of him was a man no taller than him - Asian in origin, though he could only guess that he was of Chinese descent based on his clothing choice. He wore an off white changsan, a black fitted shirt underneath, and long wide leg pants. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses - the lenses small and round. His hair was cut short - military-style buzz cut. The man was clearly skilled in martial arts.

Jimin watched him smile and this only caused his irritation to mount further. Hadn’t his friend told him that he could trust the person he was meeting on the roof? Was this all a setup?

The man lowered his stance, placing a palm over one fist and bowing his head. After a few seconds, Jimin bowed his head also, but maintained eye contact with him. The man continued to smile at him.

“You have very good reflexes for one so young,” he complimented.

Jimin shrugged. “I guess so.”

“You move like a cobra.” He lowered his arms down to his sides. “I am Seraph. I will guide you to The Oracle.”

“The Oracle?” Jimin couldn’t hide the confused expression on his face. He’d heard rumors online about someone with that moniker, but he figured it was just some myth circulating through the dark net. “I’m...meeting The Oracle.”

Seraph nodded, fishing into his pocket as he approached the roof access door. “Yes. She has much to discuss with you. But we must hurry.” He pulled out a small ring of keys, sliding one of them into the lock. “We don’t have much time.”

Before Jimin could question Seraph’s sanity, he watched the man open the door. But instead of a set of stairs, he could see a back alley in its place. His lips parted, unable to properly fathom what he’d just seen. The moisture left his mouth and a throbbing pain began drilling into the back of his head. Seraph was instantly at his side, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You have to remain calm. Take a few deep breaths.”

He felt like he was choking. “W-What is going on?”

“Breathe, Cobra. If your mental acuity spikes too much, they will be able to locate us.”

“T-They?”

“We need to go. Now.”

It was painful for him to nod, but Seraph helped him toward the door. Once inside the alley, he watched Seraph closing the door and locking it behind them. The street lights flickered sporadically, serving as a guide through the darkness. If Seraph was speaking to him, which he doubted, he didn’t think he would be able to hear him over the thunder of his own heartbeat. 

Jimin didn’t remember seeing Seraph unlocking another door, or the two more after that, but he was jolted to a sudden halt when they stood in front of a bright red door. It looked like the kind of door that belonged to a quaint house in the suburbs. The kind of house a normal, loving family would have attached to their single family home. 

Seraph motioned for Jimin to open it, as this door was not locked. Or, at least, he could only assume that it wasn’t since he hadn’t seen Seraph pulling out a key from his key ring. He grabbed for the brass handle and turned the knob, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold.

There was a sweet aroma hovering in the air, making Jimin’s mouth water instantly. In all of the controlled chaos, he’d forgotten to eat. The soft tones of jazz came from a radio in the kitchen. He followed the sounds and stopped at the entrance.

Standing by the stove was a woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties. She was a little heavier built, but her curves were defined and lovely in a sweet sort of way. Her back was to him, but through her dark curls he saw strands of gray peppered throughout. Smoke billowed from an ashtray nearby where an abandoned cigarette rested against one of the center notches. 

“Um,” he finally managed, taking a step forward, “excuse me?”

“Just a minute,” said the woman, her voice hauntingly familiar, “they’re almost finished. You might want to have a seat.”

Jimin reigned his curiosity back as he watched the woman lean over to pull a tray of cookies out of the oven. Heat rushed through the kitchen from the stove, warming him from the inside out. She set the tray down on the counter, giving the pastries a chance to cool. As she wiped her hands on her apron, she turned to look at Jimin and he immediately lost his balance. He blindly reached for the nearest chair, collapsing into it.

“It...It’s you,” he stammered, looking at the woman he’d come to know as the kind library clerk, “but how?”

The woman smiled, reaching for her cigarette. She took a drag, exhaling smoke from her nostrils. “I told you to have a seat.”

His eyes shook, darting in every direction before landing back on her. None of this made any sense. Jimin’s gaze moved to the floor as he tried to calm his breathing, placing a hand on his chest in an almost vain attempt to settle his rattled nerves. He watched the woman’s shadow move closer to him until she, too, was sitting across from him. When he looked up, the older woman was holding out a plate to him - a single cookie placed in the center.

“Here. I know you’re probably hungry. This will tide you over until dinner is finished.”

He unconsciously took the cookie off the plate, but he was unsure of whether to eat it or not. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust it was safe to eat. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it down.

She set a glass of water in front of him. “Now listen to me, Cobra. We don’t have a whole lot of time. I’m sure you’re just as aware of that fact as I am.”

Jimin reached a trembling hand toward the glass. “Are you really The Oracle?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The Oracle chuckled as she tapped a bit of ash off into the tray. “So many questions and yet I knew that would be the first one you’d ask.”

He drained half the glass in a single gulp. “Something is happening to me.”

“Yes, it is.” She pressed the cigarette to her lips. “It’s been happening for a while now.”

“Are you responsible for it?”

“No, Cobra.” The Oracle blew smoke out of her mouth. “You are.”

“What?”

“Did you bring the package with you?”

Jimin frowned. “If you’re The Oracle, shouldn’t you know that answer already?”

Again, she chuckled. “I do. I’m asking more for your sake than my own. You look ready to pop.”

His fingers moved from the glass and toward his pocket. He pulled out the small metal case and placed it on the table between them. Instead of reaching for it, however, The Oracle gestured toward him.

“Go on. Open it.”

Jimin opened the box, unsure of what he was actually looking at. Inside were what appeared to be two gel caplets. One red, the other blue. A bead of sweat slid down from his temple to his chin, dripping onto the top of his shoe. He slowly lifted his face to look at The Oracle who still had a calm expression painted over her features.

“Like I said earlier, Cobra, we don’t have a lot of time. I can only apologize for taking so long to close the distance between us. If I’d been faster, then we wouldn’t be rushing now.”

“Rushing for what?”

“To give you the answers you so desperately seek.” She crushed the ember of her cigarette out into the tray. “You have a choice to make. Right now. If you still want to know the truth about everything, about why you feel like the world around you doesn’t make sense, or why you feel so isolated in it, then take the red pill and seek the answers out for yourself.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. “How am I supposed to do that alone?”

The Oracle reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Her touch was warm; comforting. It helped relax his already fraying nerves. Her thumb stroked over the corner of his eye, wiping the tear away. “Oh, honey, you won’t be alone.” She looked every bit like a mother comforting a scared child in that instant. “But I won’t lie to you, the truth is going to be hard to swallow. Harder than that pill. You’ll probably hate me after you find out the truth. If you feel you won’t be able to handle any of that, then take the blue pill. You’ll forget all about me and what you’ve seen the very minute you step out that door.”

She removed her hand from his cheek, making him very aware of how cold the world seemed at the absence of her touch. Jimin eyed the pills in the box. What did he have to lose by taking the red pill and finding out the truth? His life here was meaningless - just an endless sequence of purposeless days bleeding into purposeless weeks, meshing into equally purposeless months until years with no purpose marched on.

Plucking the red pill from the foam cushion in the box, he popped it into his mouth without hesitation. He grabbed the glass of water and gulped down what remained, swallowing it. 

The Oracle suddenly grabbed Jimin’s hand just as he set the glass back down on the table. “Listen to me very carefully, Cobra. I need you to remember what I tell you when you wake up.”

“W-What do you mean?” Jimin’s vision began to swim momentarily. His auditory senses almost seemed heightened at that moment and he heard several heavy footsteps approaching from the living room. 

“You are going to find The One. That is the path that you have chosen for yourself.” The Oracle pressed both of her hands on either side of his face. “Believe in that path. When you discover the truth, you will come to understand the meaning behind my words.”

“Oracle, please,” Jimin managed to choke out, “I don’t understand…”

He saw several shadows circling him and different voices began talking all at once. 

“We’ve almost narrowed down his location,” said a man to his right, “we need just a few more seconds.”

Jimin gripped onto the woman’s arms in desperation. “I’m scared!”

“It’s okay to be scared. That’s normal, I promise.” The Oracle pressed a kiss to his forehead and he the distinct smell of cookies and cigarettes filled his nose. “Remember my words, Cobra. Know the path and walk the path you forge for yourself.”

“Got him!”

The world seemed to tunnel vision around him, causing his vision to grow darker by the second.

“Will I see you again?” he said through his tears.

“Yes, Young Man,” she replied with a smile he could barely see, “you will.”

And then everything flickered to black and green, the entire room transforming into strings of code. Jimin let out a scream before darkness completely overtook his sight.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[sariahsue]

The Open Line - Chapter 13, Food

Ladybug knows that if it weren’t for Adrien, she would have fallen for Cat Noir, hard and fast. And when Oblivio takes her memory, she does just that. Able to keep her memory after the Oblivio incident but still unaware of Cat Noir’s real identity, Ladybug must deal with her growing feelings for her partner, who is desperately trying to win her over. (Rated PG.)

Read Chapter One Here Read Chapter Twelve Here

***

Marinette had spent the whole Sunday in the bakery. The chill in the air seemed to drive people to seek out warm bread, so they had been exceptionally busy today, but it was late afternoon and the rush had died down, and she was going to finally get a break. Which she was going to spend on her phone. Cat Noir hadn't texted her all day, and she'd been meaning to ask if he was okay.

"Marinette," her father asked. "Could you bring these back as you leave? I'll get the rest later." He handed her an enormous mixing bowl overflowing with bread, cookies, muffins, and croissants, too old to sell.

"Sure." Marinette hoisted it onto her hip and walked into the kitchen. It was a shame that they'd have to throw it out. Most of it was still good, just a little stale. As she walked through the doorway, Cat Noir's ringtone began to play.

"Finally!" she whispered. She ran the rest of the way into the kitchen, tossing the bowl onto the counter and pulling her phone from the pocket of her apron. She caught her expression in the reflective surface of the stove, a goofy smile, cheeks dusted with pink and flour. Coupled with just how excited she was to get a message from him, there was really no denying what was happening.

Her heart sank when she read the short message. He was upset, and he needed her. He must have be feeling completely awful if it had kept him from texting her all day. It had better not be his father again. Cat Noir had barely said anything about him, but she already didn't like that man. Marinette didn't need to consider her course of action. She knew immediately what she wanted to do.

Marinette: I'll be at 17 Rue Gotlib in five minutes. Hold on, Kitten! 

He'd know where that was. The location of their "date" after fighting Glaciator a few months ago. It might not hold the happiest memories for him, but it was closeby, and even with the five minute timer ticking, she would be able to get there before him and set up, make it look welcoming, be waiting for him when he arrived.

She raced through the house, flinging off her apron, grabbing a basket and her favorite blanket, and rushing back to the kitchen to grab the leftovers and say goodbye to her parents. Picnic basket banging against her leg, she ran down the street to find a good hiding spot. Her eyes raked the skyline to their meeting place and landed upon golden hair and two black ears. She was ahead of schedule, but he had still beaten her there. He must live nearby, she realized.

As soon as her feet touched the roof a few seconds later, Ladybug found herself engulfed in a hug. Cat Noir sank into her, burying his face into her shoulder. She hadn't even retracted her yoyo yet. She wanted to hug him back, wrap him up so nothing could ever hurt him again, but she couldn't, not with one arm strung out to a distant building and the other dragged down by the basket.

"Could you let go for a s-"

Cat Noir leaped away from her like she had screamed at him. As quickly as she could, she set the basket down and grabbed him, squeezing him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly, not letting go until she felt some of the tension leave him. When she finally stepped back, she took a good look at his face. His cheeks were splotchy, and his eyes were bloodshot. She wanted to cry in sympathy.

"Why didn't you text me sooner?" she asked.

He shrank back, though she hadn't said it harshly. "Sorry. I- I probably shouldn't have. I should just g-" He turned away to leave.

"No." She grabbed him, her cheek pressing into his back. "You did the right thing. You need to let me know when you're upset."

He'd probably been marinating in his self-pity all day. Why hadn't he just let her know he needed help?! And what on earth was wrong? Whatever it was, she hated it for hurting her partner. When she finally let him go, her irritation must have seen been displayed across her face, because he shrunk away from her.

When was this boy going to let her help him, instead of flinching away from her? Now was not the time to address it though, so she swallowed her irritation and smoothed out her expression.

"Help me with the blanket?"

Cat Noir looked down and finally saw what she'd brought. "Nice quilt."

It wasn't really. The patterns didn't match and the squares were uneven and the stitches were so bad that the overstuffed batting was poking through in several places, but it was thick and warm and she loved it. "Thanks. I worked hard on it."

"You made this?"

"It was my very first project."

"Oh. Nice."

As he bent to pick up the quilt, Ladybug frowned. He normally would have been jumping up and down to learn something personal about her, which is why she'd shared that detail, but he'd barely sounded interested. Her plan to feed him and spend an hour or two with him would have to be supplemented somehow if she wanted to cheer him up.

"What's in the basket?" He grabbed the blanket and lifted it off the top, revealing the treats underneath.

"Just the necessities," she said, grabbing a corner of the quilt and motioning to a spot against the metal railing for them to sit. "What do you want first? I've got cookies, scones, some bread?"

Cat Noir plopped down onto the blanket and stared at his knees.

"Cat?" Ladybug sat next to him and put the basket at their feet. "Or we could just sit for a few minutes?"

He dropped his head onto her shoulder, his hair tickling her cheek, his breathing shaky. They stayed that way for several minutes, until he couldn't seem to keep himself upright anymore and put his head on her lap, curling the rest of himself up next to her. His tail draped over her legs. Cold October air swirled around them on the roof, kept at bay by the warmth they shared as they cuddled together. She held him for a few minutes, until his breathing evened out and he started to shift restlessly, and she reminded him that she'd brought dinner.

"You didn't need to," he said, straightening.

"I wanted to." Ladybug handed him the biggest cookie and the flakiest croissant she could find. Wind cut through her suit, making her shiver, and she huddled closer to Cat Noir for warmth. He noticed and folded the bottom edge of the blanket up until it covered her feet. Even though he was hurting so deeply, he was taking care of her, and she felt herself fall a little more.

"I know why you're doing all this," he said, wrapping an arm around her.

"I'd have that that was obvious. I want to-"

"Make me fall in love with you. Clearly."

"What?" She jerked away from him, but the arm around her waist and its siren warmth easily drew her back in.

"Easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Your wily plans won't work on me, LB. I know your devious tricks." His tone was listless, completely lacking his usual humor.

"More like you can't fall for me harder than you already have," she said.

"Maybe." He smiled very faintly, a shadow of what she was used to, and it sparked an idea.

"I can't tell you what that does to my ego," she said, fanning herself, "having a famous superhero hitting on me all the time." It might be crossing a line, but she already too far, so she added, "A really hot one."

Face red, he grabbed another muffin and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth so he could avoid looking at her. "Are you sure I'm the only person in love here?" he finally asked.

She was sure he was not.

"Because you're the one who asked me out to dinner," he continued.

She glanced at the half-empty basket, panicking. Flirting was one thing, but she didn't want to give him false hope by accidentally asking him out. "That's not what this is."

"Really? Then why did you choose this spot? I think you're trying to win me over."

Ladybug shoved another croissant into his mouth to shut him up. He chuckled around his mouthful of food and drew her closer, until they were pressed together from shoulder to hip to ankle.

Was that really why? Had she chosen this place because she was trying to recreate their first "date"? Was she feeding him because she wanted, subconsciously, to secure his feelings for her? She was still trying to decide how she felt about him! The last thing she needed right now was for him to fall harder for her. But logic could not silence the quiet voice of Yes! Love me! Please love me more! 

How was it that so much of their relationship had changed, but it still felt so much the same? They had always talked and laughed together and had their inside jokes. Their bond of trust was forged on day one and had been steadily getting stronger every day for over a year, so that wasn't new.

How was everything the same when it was so wonderfully different?

A gust blew autumn leaves from the street into their faces, and Ladybug giggled to see one stuck in Cat Noir's hair. Well, the giggling and blushing were new, but enjoying his company and wanting to be near him was not.

How?

She plucked the leaf from his hair, then tickled his nose with it, until he twitched and blew it away, his smile still dim, but stronger than it had been all night.

As she tucked herself back into his side, she knew how. Losing her memory hadn't created any new feelings for her partner. It had just let her see them clearly for the first time.

Read Chapter Fourteen Here

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Author's note: Phew! I wasn't even sure I was going to get this done for tonight. The first draft of this chapter was such a pain and I was super busy the last few days. You'll be getting two or three chapters next week. They'll both/all be short and (now that Marinette's no longer in denial) very mushy.