#i already have plans in june and so does she and it’s literally one weekend we are both free and it’s micy p concert date | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsjustagoober · 11 months

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So, uhhhhhhh.

Howdy y'all. Been a minute since I've really been around here. I mean, yes I've been reblogging and stuff, but like...that's roughly all the time I've had to do? Just pop in for a bit or so, reblog and head off again.

Gonna do my best to keep it short, but I'll also put it under the cut to keep the base post short to most. Here goes nothing, I guess?

TL;DR: A family emergency back in June literally caused my entire summer, which I had originally planned to be my most creative and focused time for projects and art and stuff, to be watching after and living with a family member up until the first week of October to make sure they would be okay. I then took a week vacation this past week to visit my girlfriend and I was so relaxed I didn't do anything else, either. I am gonna need time to get back into the groove on here as I process and reassess what I wanna do for my blogs for the rest of the year and from here out.

To start, I am very glad that I made sure my great uncle was fine for sure, the whole time I was living with him. I just also realized that, now that it's over, being his immediate caretaker for three-to-four months? Life really stole my summer and everything fun I wanted to do this year. It sucks. It's not entirely his fault, but hrrrrmgle.

So, June. I was hearing how wet and frequent his coughs were and was trying to get him to go to Urgent Care/go see his primary (which he assured me he didn't have one when I always am the one making his appointments for him), but he continued to refuse and fight me the entire way. He does this to everyone who tries to tell him how to do something he doesn't want to hear, so I just took it and knew he'd realize sooner or later this was a losing battle on his side.

That came the day he went for his dentist appointment and he ended up having a cardiac episode in the chair before they started. They called me right back and I took him to the hospital. They gave him so much stuff to bring his heart rate down, like holy shit. Thankfully, since the dentist didn't start with anything, there was nothing to worry about with drugs fighting with other drugs. I stayed there until his stepdaughter finally got off of work and I was allowed to go home after a pretty draining and traumatic day.

Oh, that reminds me. I said it wasn't wholly his fault about how this summer turned out. That's because there's another character here, his stepdaughter. She will be referred to as S from here out. While I'm at it, Great Uncle will also be R and S' daughter will be K. K is pretty cool, though, so you probably won't see her here as much as the other two, considering.

So, S is an interesting lady. She is about as old as my mother and acts like she's 22 still. Nothing against her wanting to be that way, but it made it very difficult to genuinely talk with her or see her at any point that wasn't on her time and when she was in town. Most of the summer, she barely came to visit despite everything. Every weekend, she went out partying or camping or out of town/state because she couldn't handle all the stuff with R. You can guess who that fell to, obviously. And the fact that S assumed I was gonna take care of him for her anyway, bleh. Yes, as he's family and I care about the people I care about, but assuming all that and I had to find this out later and from someone else? Not a great impression there.

Took a dinner break here, so where was I? I visited him in the hospital when I could, mostly. He was moved around so much and going through procedures and the like I barely caught him in passing. The day he was let out and moved to rehab, however, I was sure to go visit him ASAP. I made sure he was settled, met the nurses taking care of him and the schedules for medication.

He didn't have an amazing time there, according to him. However, this is because of two very important details: He didn't want to be there and wanted to be home already and that he needed to complete rehab to get home. You can probably imagine where this is going, yes. He refused to do his bare minimum of exercises and the like and then wondered why they were keeping him longer, even though they wanted to see him go and make a full recovery.

Another detail that's important is that one of the doctors in the hospital sent him to rehab with a defibrillator vest. This doctor apparently didn't explain it to him, any of his nurses at the hospital, none of them at the rehab center and most of all, me. So, this was a 6-pound burden for us all that reeeeally pissed him off especially. The damn thing would beep for any reason and while there was a book for each beep, every message shared the same beep! You wouldn't know the reason until you cross-checked the manual! And the damn battery pack kept nailing him in the shin, too. Augh.

Eventually, after a short time and a big tantrum from him that required S and I to be there for his patient review (in which S also had a breakdown because of this), he finally realized he couldn't get out until he kept the vest on and did the harder exercises to build up enough strength to be let go to go back home. And then he was, about the second to last week of August. And that's when I moved in to be his caretaker and help him with stuff around the house while he got used to it again.

The longest part came next, all his follow-ups with doctors he saw in the hospital to give him a clean bill of health to drop the defibrillator vest fully or drop it to get an internal one installed. All these follow-ups took end of August through to the end of September and his patience for everything was so worn thin. Every little thing agitated him and he never wanted to do anything extra outside of what he HAD to do. It was very frustrating for everyone involved trying to help him, myself included.

Finally, we came to October 2nd. The day he finds out about the vest and his medical stuff going forward. We go in and see the doctor. He's a very nice man and he's doing his best to do his job and let R know that, while he should be okay to take off the vest now, he needs to still be careful as he could plummet in health at any moment if he overdoes anything or even does super nothing (ya know, stagnant type nothing). Of course, R only heard that he could take the vest off and that's what he was waiting for. He was suddenly very energetic and headstrong that the doctor then quickly tried to let him know we'd still need to see him in a few months and make sure everything is okay. He even offered we come in later in the week for him to get a light defib shock to fix his heart rate from afib.

This, of course, is not what R wanted to hear. He was done, as far as he was concerned, and didn't want to do anything else. It started with a 'No.' and soon turned into a full screaming match, only from his side, to the doctor just trying to make sure he'd be alright going forward. Once the doctor realized there was nothing he could do to change R's mind, mostly from a motion from me that it wasn't worth the argument, he dismissed us as professionally as he could and everything. We left and I grabbed his card, just in case anything happens, ya know?

We're downstairs and he's so proud of himself for that outburst. He got what he wanted to hear and wasn't going to take anything else for anything he didn't want to hear or realize. We went to lunch and I just sort of clammed up for the rest of the day because it wasn't worth the effort. He didn't apologize after he calmed down or anything. He was just so proud of himself and it pretty much made me feel nauseated.

Since that was just a week or so ago from this, he started to get a big head. He was good to go and didn't need anymore doctors or meds and or anyone to help him. He started getting visibly and vocally frustrated with me, so I figured that was a good time for a short break from each other. Went back once or twice to get my stuff like clothes and food from living there for two-to-three months and then saw him off that last Saturday for October 7th. I was so anxious and everything, especially with hoping he'd be alright while I was gone.

I told S and K I'd be taking a week vacation and then go back to pre-cardiac episode (once a week every Wednesday or whatever day if he had appointments). Never heard back from S, but I thanked me for everything I had done all summer and said my kindness and love would be paid back in time. One of my great aunts, married to one of R's brothers, said the same thing. I believe them both when they said that too. I didn't need it, but I guess affirmation and validation that I did a good thing was worth it, after all it had taken out of me.

And then I went to Missouri to visit my girlfriend (@somechubbynerd ) for a week. I was so relaxed and so forced to not do anything I didn't have to that I sort of just existed in a time and limbo of bliss? I have high anxiety as it is and, not feeling it for the first time in years, I sort of didn't know what to do with myself?

My girlfriend helped loads with that, though, by guiding me through places she wanted to take me and spend time with me. We cuddled and watched YouTube together. We baked cookies and made a chicken fettuccine dinner together. We went to the zoo together and then to one of her favorite restaurants in the same day. She made me so at ease and helped me be myself for once that I sort of just was so mind-numbed into pure bliss and peace with myself.

It felt great, looking back, but I just genuinely didn't know what to do about it. I hadn't felt that in years and I am still feeling it as I write this now. It feels so nice and so calming. This is awesome, given that I actually went in to urgent care for a panic attack that was gonna put me out for a few days, back in June/July. It sucked so much, but I'm glad they helped me recover so quickly. I couldn't afford to be down for too long. I am so essential to everyone around me and to be there for them, even if I know that they all can't always be there for me.

My girlfriend, as well as a few others, made me realize I probably need to start saying no more. Not because it's to be a bastard, but I can't give myself away like this again and again and get so little in return or no time to recover from the last thing. Obviously, I should still do stuff on a basis I choose, but yeah. Maybe I should say no a little more. It also made me realize that, while not anyone's particular fault, my summer was stolen from me. This summer was planned between my girlfriend and I, as well as a few mutual friends, to work together on art, writing and projects we have been invested in for a year or more and have to keep putting off due to life and work stuff. This was gonna be the summer we were all available...and then we weren't.

I'm still processing these last three months and the year or more so far, since I finally had a break long enough to realize what's going on with myself and my life and someone to bounce my thoughts off of that I couldn't with family. It has opened my eyes a bit more about my circumstances and what the near future might hold for me. I miss my girlfriend so much already and I felt so bad I wasn't crying as much as she was when she had to drop me back off at the train station, but I guess I was still processing it too?

Yeah, still processing things. Probably for a bit, too. I'll probably need some time to ease back into things here. All my blogs and what I was doing before sort of disappearing for a long time and also being interrupted from a lot of threads I wanted to continue or even start. I hope you all can be patient and understanding with me and I'll do my best to do the same. I love y'all and nothing will ever change that, okay? I just need some time to figure myself out again. Yeah. Just need more time...

#the goober speaks #irl stuff #long post #auuuuugh

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

Text

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love).

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

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losingitinjersey · 4 years

Photo

I’m not used to having so much time in the mornings! I was already caught up on Tumblr as well as all things erp, breakfast and general cleaning by 9 a.m. so what’s a girl to do? Obviously tackle her junk drawer.

At 10 a.m. Kevin and I had a Zoom call with his school’s financial advisor to chat about loan repayment programs. SO FUN talking about how to pay back half a million in debt. At the end of that call I get a text from my landlord’s wife (whom I dislike ever since she declined my request to put up a railing on the front steps which are scarily dangerous when wet) with the following message:

Her: “Hiiiii how are u” Her: “Do u have time to chat”

Me: Hey there! What’s up?

Her: I can call u in the car :)

Don’t do that. Don’t text to chat then ask to call and not tell me what this is about in advance.

I call her after getting her last message and she asked if she can call me back so she can do it from the car. Um, you’re already in the car, why didn’t the call just come through the car?? I tell her sure but she says she’ll call me back in 5 minutes. I respond that I start work in 5 minutes so I’d appreciate a quick call back. She then just goes into her reason for the call and proceeds to tell me she just booked a trip to come visit (they live in Florida) in the middle of March and how she’s going to be scheduling painters and contractors to come by and start to prep the house to be sold.

She asked if we knew where we’re going yet and I told her, like I told her husband (whom I adore, btw) that we wouldn’t know anything until March 19th but that we’ll tell them right away as soon as we find out. Apparently they have plans to sell the house “before June” and I tell her that we have plans to move out in mid-May. Her response was a long pause but that “we’ll work it all out.”

We’ve been in the house for four years and for the entire time it’s been known that this March we’re converting the lease to a month to month but with the understanding that we’ll be here through graduation which is May 15th. I don’t know how it’ll be possible for them to sell the house before June and us moving after graduation. I know absolutely nothing about the buying and selling of houses but I expect it’ll take longer than 15 days of a house being empty to prep it for the next buyers. Also, if they’re replacing carpets and painting, that means we need to be completely moved out before that happens since all our stuff is sitting on the carpets and against the walls.

I was already stressed out about the timeline of finding out in 21 days where we’re moving in the country, finding a new place most likely sight-unseen, and then moving to said new location in May. While we can probably do graduation from anywhere since it’ll be virtual, Kevin does have to stay local until the end of April for final classes and wrap up projects. His parents aren’t coming out until May 13th to help us move, but now it seems like the middle of May is too late? I don’t want to inconvenience our landlord since he’s been amazing to us (not her, but he has) but I also don’t want to be inconvenienced. Their reason for selling the house this quick is because he’s retiring from the military and has tax benefits that are going away or something.

It was an unexpected conversation this morning, one that took me off guard and made me defensive and killed my happy new job vibe. Now I’m just stressing even though there’s literally nothing I can do until we find out where we’re going. (And sure, I could start packing, but no. That sounds awful.)

At least it’s Friday?

Other than this bullshit, my day is documented in the attached pictures including the new arrival and set up of my work equipment allowing me to be much more efficient with a second screen, keyboard and mouse. I’m also sporting my new headphones so I can be a techy person as well as a photo of erp who fell asleep while Kevin was feeding her. I get this picture texted to me along with the message, “I may have waited too long to start lunch.” Oh, my dear husband.

Looking forward to this weekend where I can spend every minute with my girl and try to not stress about things I can’t control. Wish me luck :)

#please don't reblog #rant #stress #medspouse

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

/clementine/part 3: Ashton Irwin

Thank you all so so much for giving this new series a chance!🧡It will probably be structured like my Luke&Lily series where I’ll have open discussions about this family with little blurbs and then some one shots like these. Catch up below and please tell me what you think! Much love🧡

Part 1 // Part 2

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: sweet moments, mentions of pregnancy

Masterlist

•••••

Preparation for the baby began minutes after Y/N and Ashton celebrated the happy news in their garden and after many photos that Ashton took. He had her pose in the swing then sit on the edge of the pond so the vases could be seen behind her. She thought his excitement was so wholesome it wasn’t hard for her to have a genuine smile as he had her hold one of the vases. When he stuck a small orange flower in her hair she used that opportunity to give him a quick kiss.

“I’m so happy you’re happy,” she whispers.

“I’m over the moon,” he grins, eyes twinkling like stars. “Can I ask why you chose the colors orange and green?”

“Uhh…well. I really love your album and it’s like…” she touches her belly lightly, “this baby is our own superbloom.”

More kissing ensued then Ashton was rattling off paint ideas and how the room next to theirs would be the perfect nursery once he finally cleaned out the leftover packing boxes and some of his things he shifted there to make room for her stuff.

He began sketching the nursery right away but kept his drawings away from her until he could color them in, so she’d have the perfect visual of what he saw in his mind’s eye.

Later that night while they were getting ready for bed, after he checked the locks and security cameras he found her in their bathroom with her shirt yanked up to her breasts and her shorts pulled down a little staring at her reflection. She twisted every which way, a glowing smile present. He’s only known for a few hours and she’s already glowing.

It’s not until he shifts his focus from her face to what she was looking at, a small round bump. Ashton becomes transfixed as he admires her and the life that is very apparent growing within her.

“Do you see this?!” she squeals finally turning around to face him.

“I do see, and it’s incredible, angel,” he smiles moving behind her. He places his own hands over the small roundness of her belly then turns them towards the mirror. “You’re so beautiful.”

He rubs her stomach, fingers tickling her skin until she’s sighing against him. “You’re sure you’re happy?”

“I’m beyond happy, angel.” Then he frowns spinning her around so she’s facing him. He turns her chin up. “Why do you keep asking if I’m happy?”

“Because this wasn’t planned, and I don’t want you to feel stuck with me or something…” she shrugs, eyes lowering in shame.

“You can get that out of your head right now,” he cups her cheeks forcing her to look at him. “Remember when I told you there’s no downside to us not using protection? I meant it. Yes, we absolutely should have used protection, but this isn’t a bad thing, yeah? I’m so happy we’re having a baby.”

He kisses her forehead then her lips once, twice, three times. His hazel eyes search her face for more signs of doubt, but he sees the resolve appear.

“Okay, you’re right,” she sighs. “I’m overthinking it. I’m happy too.”

***

As months go on and Ashton continues to clean out the soon-to-be nursery, Y/N’s showing more and more. Their friends and family were ecstatic about the news of their bundle of joy that would be making their arrival in the middle of June.

Ashton has been more than happy being her support as her body continued to change. He made sure she had plenty of fluids, taking all the necessary prenatal vitamins, gave her the best herbal teas and didn’t mind running to the store for her odd cravings. For a straight week all she wanted was an apple and chicken sandwich.

The holidays went by and Y/N had a constant glow about her that radiated to everyone in proximity. Even through her migraines, nausea, back pain and heartburn, she was still extremely happy to be pregnant.

Mornings are spent by Ashton speaking to the baby while he rubs her belly. He and the boys have started working on the nursery and at nighttime Ashton has set up a little woodshop in the garage where he’s making the crib. He wants it to be circular and painted a light green.

She enjoys watching him work, loving the way his muscles ripple and flex, his sweat making his tattoos shine. Her raging hormones were also very apparent and fired at all times. Once, when Ashton came home he saw her crying on the couch because she had a really good sex dream and was very upset when she woke up. As of late, their best position is from behind while laying on their sides, fingers interlocked and Ashton’s lips on her neck. Because of her heightened arousal, her orgasms happened very quickly.

She’s eight months along now, both her and baby are extremely healthy. Her baby shower (that Ashton insisted on attending) is this weekend in their backyard, but the girls wouldn’t let them lift a finger.

They’re sitting out in the garden now watching the fish swim around lazily as dragonflies kiss the top of the sparkling water. The garden has expanded even more with overflowing green ferned plants and a small bird bath.

“I was thinking of having pork chops for dinner tomorrow and don’t forget we have a doctor appointment on Friday,” she tells him while playing with his fingers. They have more callouses now from all of his woodshop making, the crib is finished and drying in the garage. She looks over at him to see he’s staring off into the distance. “Ash?”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about so hard?” she taps her fingers delicately on his temple.

“I’m thinking about the night we met,” he sighs bringing his other hand to cradle her belly. “Do you remember?”

“Of course, I remember. Why are you thinking about that?”

“I had a thought that night and it popped in my head just now,” his fingers create soothing circles on her stomach.

“What thought?”

Ashton ignores the question and starts telling the story of the night they met fifteen months ago.

They were strangers then, both of them agreeing to a speed dating night but there was a twist, it was held in the dark. The waiters wore night vision glasses and walked the daters to their tables, fate had Ashton and Y/N be at the same table.

“They really took ‘blind dating’ literally, huh?” she laughed nervously trying to break the tension. She’s only been on less than a handful of blind dates but this one takes the cake.

“Yeah, I get the concept, but I wish I could see you,” he complimented. Her teasing piqued his interest immediately, she sounded feisty but also clever. “You sound pretty.”

“Yeah? How does pretty sound?” she giggled.

“Just like that,” he pointed then placed his finger down since she couldn’t see it. “Your personality is in your voice. You’re funny and witty and your giggle is just adorable.”

“Well, thank you,” she said feeling her face warm up. “You have a nice voice too.”

“I’m Ashton.”

“Nice to meet you, Ashton, I’m Y/N.”

The evening continued with more laughter as they tried to eat their food in the dark. It took them forever to find their forks and couldn’t stop laughing as they patted the table trying to find a knife.

“Maybe we don’t need one?” he asked.

“But it’s chicken! I don’t want to pick it up with my fingers, we aren’t in the stone ages.”

“Maybe it’s already cut?”

“You test it first.”

She listened as his fork stabbed onto the plate, then it clattered while he yelped in surprise.

“Did it bite you?” she laughed.

“No, it’s just very hot! Be careful.”

When the date has ended with a chocolate mint, the host of the blind dating soirée thanked everyone for participating and said if you’d like to meet your date face to face then take the door on the left, if not then come out the way you came. Ashton and Y/N’s nerves heightened, would the other walk through the left door or leave?

She followed the waiter to the left, hoping Ashton did the same. They had nametags on so it would be easy to find your date if you chose to meet them afterwards. She blinked a few times when the light from the streetlamps met her eyes and standing below a hanging flower basket filled with orange flowers was Ashton.

He smiled at her as she approached, her arms crossed over her chest as a slight breeze drifted through the street.

“Nice to put a face to the name,” he said.

Attraction was immediate and after a few minutes of chatting he asked if she’d like to get a coffee down the block. She accepted and told her friend she’d see her later. Her friend was going to a movie with the girl she had dinner with, and they were already holding hands. Y/N smiled that they hit it off right away.

Ashton and Y/N stayed at the coffee shop until it closed, neither of them wanted the night to end so he invited her back to his place. Normally she would never do that on a first date, but the way she and Ashton connected was unlike any other first date.

He gave her a tour of his house then turned on some music that floated outside onto the patio where he flicked on the small bulbed lights. He noticed she kept shivering and made a fire in his small pit, thankfully it was gas so it would warm up quickly.

“Thank you,” she smiled leaning closer to the flames.

Conversation was so easy between them, they discussed the universe, books, music, everything under the sun that helped define a person. When Lord Huron’s song ‘The Night we Met’ started she gasped.

“I love this song! I know the lyrics are sad, but it makes me feel like it’s a happy nostalgic song, you know?” she said.

Ashton stood up holding out his hand. “Care to dance?”

She stared up at him in shock, excitement and nervousness flowed through her, but a small burst of confidence had her hand fitting into his. He pulled her from her chair then held her close as he shifted from side to side. As the song continued the electricity between them accelerated.

The song stopped and crickets filled the silence.

“Can you keep playing that song?” she asked quietly.

Ashton nodded taking his phone from his pocket and clicked on the song again, making sure that it would be on repeat. He pocketed his phone then took her hand back in his picking up where they left off on their dance. They inch closer, their interlocked hands cradled between their chests. The yearning song mirrored their actions as his forehead pressed to hers.

On the third round of the song he found his own courage by pressing his lips to hers, soft, warm, and perfect. He felt her nerves slip away with his as the first kiss delved into a kiss that felt like a lifetime. It was new but felt so familiar that transcended time.

In that moment he decided that this was the girl he’s going to marry, start a family with, and dance to music under twinkling lights when they’re seventy-five years old. This blind date opened his eyes to a world of possibilities with her and he wanted them all.

The next day the state of California issued a statewide lockdown and their journey began.

“When we were dancing on the patio and we kissed for the first time,” Ashton says coming back to the present, “I knew then that I was going to marry you.” He leans down and kisses the highest point of her belly before taking her hand.

“Y-you did?”

“I know we haven’t talked about marriage, but…with this little one on the way soon I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“We can talk about it,” she nods.

“What are your thoughts on it, angel? I’m feeling some hesitation,” he smiles but it doesn’t meet his eyes. He concentrates on their hands folded together over their baby.

“No, no! Hey,” she turns his head, so he looks at her. “I want to marry you; I’d go right now and waddle down the aisle, but I just don’t think it’s the best time right now. With the baby coming soon we’re going to be really crazy getting a schedule down and we’re going to be extremely tired…”

“You’re right. I don’t want to rush things. But you do want to marry me?” his hazel eyes widen a little.

“Of course, I want to marry you,” she smiles pecking his lips quickly. “I probably would have married you the night we met to be honest.”

“Yeah?” he grins.

“Yes, crazy boy.”

“Come on, why won’t you tell us what you’re having!” Luke whines adjusting his pacifier necklace. It’s their baby shower and one of the games includes wearing a necklace of pacifiers, if you hear someone say the name ‘baby’ you got to take their pacifier. The one with the most won a prize.

Ashton and Y/N had the envelope of the sex of their baby at her four-month ultrasound. Neither of them were really desperate to know so the envelope stayed on their nightstand. Each night they bounced back names and settled on two for either a boy or a girl which they also haven’t shared with friends or family. It’s not that they were scared someone would steal their names, but they liked having it just be known to them.

On the morning of their baby shower she found Ashton eyeing up the envelope after his shower.

“I’ve been thinking about opening it, too,” she smiled picking up the white envelope. Scrawled on the front were the words ‘Baby Irwin’.

“Do you want to?”

They opened it together, tears filling their eyes as they read the one syllable word underneath ‘you’re having a…’ they hugged and kissed in excitement then Ashton kissed her belly.

“Hello baby love,” he murmurs. “We’re having a party for you today, where you’ll be getting lots of clothes and toys. You’re already such a joy, your mama and I love you so much.”

“We’ll tell you,” she nods.

“As soon as Y/N gives birth we’ll let you all know,” Ashton finishes.

Luke was the only one affronted by not knowing, he wants to know the name and everything.

“But that won’t be until the middle of June!”

“Luke, relax. We promise you’ll be the first to know,” Ashton rolls his eyes as he hands Y/N another gift.

They’re all sat by the flower oasis; the fish splash every now and then almost is if they want to know what the gender of the baby is as well. She’s been spending a lot more time in the flower garden, talking to the baby and imagining sitting out here on the swing watching the fish swim.

The nursery is finished, one wall is painted in orange flowers growing up to the ceiling. A green plant sits in the corner next to the teal armchair. Ashton’s circular crib is all set up along with the other furniture in the room and some toys are scattered around. The room is absolutely perfect.

Y/N’s become a bit more emotional now as her due date draws closer. When opening presents are finished and they’re all eating cake (Luke was disappointed there wasn’t blue or pink frosting hiding inside) she teared up.

“Hey, are you all right? Does something hurt?” Ashton asks swiping away a tear from her cheek.

“No, I’m just so happy,” she cries dabbing at her eyes with the peach napkin. “All of our friends and family are here because they already love our baby so much.”

“Oh, angel,” he smiles as she hides her face in his chest. He rubs her back affectionately and kisses the top of her head. “They love you, too.”

As the party dwindled down, she went upstairs to lay down, her feet swell a lot more these days. Ashton helps clean up and brings the gifts inside the nursery. When the last guest leaves he’s exhausted as well and heads upstairs.

She’s sprawled across the bed her pregnancy pillow enveloped around her. That thing was a God send; it was the only way she could sleep through the night without any pain. Ashton was glad it helped her sleep; the only downside was that it was much harder for him to cuddle her close.

He removes his blue silk pants and tugs off his light pink shirt (an outfit choice he wore to mess with Luke) and joins her on the bed. He kisses her forehead, brushing his fingers through her hair then holds his hand on her belly. He feels a slight kick from the baby, and he smiles.

“Don’t wake mama up, baby love,” he smiles, “she’s had a long day on her feet. Take a nap with us.”

Ashton rests his head on the pillow then begins to hum a song until the baby’s kicking ceases and the family of three snooze together until dinner time.

Ashton is about to pull his hair out. It’s been two weeks past Y/N’s due date and she’s miserable. They’ve been trying everything their doctor has recommended to induce labor, spicy foods (after it made her cry she tossed that idea out the window), eating bananas, using the exercise ball and walking. But to no avail, their little baby was as stubborn as Y/N and Ashton.

She’s not sleeping well; she gets nearly six headaches a day and can’t stand for longer than ten minutes without her back hurting. Ashton has suggested trying to have sex as that’s the number one trial to induce labor, but she shot that down quick too.

“Ash, listen, I love you and you know I think you’re sexy, but sex is the furthest thing on my mind right now. I feel like a whale and I’m so hot and uncomfortable…”

When tears sprung in her eyes he never brought it up again but still, he wants their baby to arrive now so she’s not in this state anymore. She’s sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, a fan blasting on high directed right at her.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” he asks leaning over the back of the couch.

“No,” she grumbles rubbing her stomach. “Can we try walking again?”

“Around the block?”

“No, just the backyard,” she sighs trying to sit up. Ashton helps her stand then holds her elbow with one hand resting on her back. “My womb can’t be that comfortable.”

Ashton smiles but doesn’t say anything. He learned two weeks ago that any form of compliment towards her womb accommodations made her angry. She sighs when her feet touch the warm patio then into the soft grass.

They start from the opposite end of the flower oasis where now a small well resides with vines growing up. Ashton holds her hand as they walk through the garden, each section resembling a chapter in this part of their life. It’s filled with color and vibrance and was made from love. When they reach the koi pond, Felix, Oscar and Patricia are gathered together near the edge.

“Can you hand me the food?” she asks.

Ashton removes his hand to grab the fish food and hands it to her. She pops it open then sprinkles the food into the water.

“Do you think they know I’m pregnant?” she asks.

“Maybe…are they like dogs in how they can sense it?” Ashton asks.

“I don’t know. I like to think they know. All right,” she sighs heavily, “lets’ head back inside.”

As soon as she crosses the threshold, she hears a small pop then something trickling down her legs. She gasps and looks down at her feet to see water covering her orange colored toes (courtesy of Ashton painting them since she can’t see her feet). Her water broke. It’s time.

“Um, Ash?” she reaches towards a chair and holds onto it.

“What’s up, angel?”

“My water just broke.”

“In the pond? How? Wait—what?!” he spins from the fridge and stands in front of her. His eyes widen. “Okay, stay right here, let me get you some new pants and we’ll go to the center.”

After twelve hours of labor, their baby girl was born on July 1. They both cried tears of joy at the sight of her, her face was a perfect circle with long lashes and an already apparent pair of dimples on her round cheeks. Ashton couldn’t stop staring at her as Y/N held her in her arms, he strokes his finger over her forehead gently. The peach fuzz of her skin is warm and already familiar.

“Here’s our superbloom,” she smiles to Ashton.

He meets her gaze, eyes filled with love and admiration that she carried their baby girl for this amount of time. He kisses her and rests his forehead against hers.

“Our darling Clementine.”

•••••

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05 @idontneedanyone @dinosaursandsocks @haveufoundwhaturlooking4 @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor @zhangyixingxing1 @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @everyscarisahealingplace @stardust-galaxies @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @lovelybonesetc @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton

#ashton irwin one shot #dad!ash #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin writing #ashton 5sos #dad!sos #clementine #ai writing #ashton one shot #ashton fluff

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theotherjourney7 · 4 years

Text

“The Week In Tory returns for the second time in 4 days.

The weeks grow shorter, but the days last forever...

1. The consultant who advised the government to look for "alternative arrangements" on the Irish Border is in line for a £200m contract if alternative arrangements go ahead.

But to facilitate this, the government has to break international law with the Internal Market Bill (IMB)

Nobody can tell us what the "alternative arrangements" are, but the IMB passed through parliament anyway.

2. The UK’s highest-ranking law officer in Scotland resigned over the IMB

& The UK’s special envoy on media freedom, Amal Clooney (yes, that one) quit over IMB

3. The former (Tory appointed) ambassador to USA said the IMB was "hugely damaging to our international reputation"

4. Those snowflake liberal Remoaners Toby Young, Peter Hitchens and Tim Montgomerie turned on the govt over IMB. As did every living former-Prime Minister.

5. Joe Biden said there would be no UK/US Trade Deal if the IMB went ahead

But, Iain Duncan Smith said "we don’t need lectures" from Joe Biden

Trump’s special envoy to Northern Ireland also said there would be no Trade Deal

Apparently, Iain Duncan Smith does need lectures. Who knew?

6. Oh, and IMB also includes a provision allowing the government to break absolutely any law, absolutely any time!!!!!

7. Unrelated, I’m sure, but the number of "problem drinkers" in England doubled this year

So the government cut funding to alcohol addiction services

8. Dominic Raab, whose job it is to understand the Good Friday Agreement, admitted he hasn’t read the Good Friday Agreement

His excuse is: "it’s not a novel". True. Novels tend to be longer than 35 pages, aren't vital to solving conflicts that killed 3600 people

9. The Prime Minister, who literally voted to break a deal he signed with the EU, said the EU was "not negotiating in good faith"

The next morning, Northern Ireland minister and arch memo-misser Brandon Lewis went on TV and said "I believe the EU is negotiating in good faith"

10. It was revealed the Smart Freight System to handle post-Brexit trade won’t be ready until at least April 2021.

That’s at least 4 months without a freight handling system, during the time of year we rely on food imports the most

11. The Road Haulage Association said a meeting with Michael Gove to discuss border checks provided "no clarity" and was "a washout"

12. An official report says 2-day queues at Dover in January are "a certainty"

So the government closed a Covid test site in Kent, to convert it into a lorry park, in what experts (well, me) are calling "the world’s shittest game of whack-a-mole"

13. The government said people would be fined £1000 if they don’t self-isolate after getting a positive test

And then all tests ran out in the 10 worst-hit Covid hotspots

And then all home testing kits ran out, nationally

And then the website for booking tests broke, and just showed a series of error messages.

And then the government said the system was under strain because people were asking for tests when they didn’t know they were infected

So [deep breath] you must self-isolate after getting a test that doesn’t exist, and you can only get a test if you already know the result

14. Naturally, honesty no-fly-zone Home Office Secretary Priti Patel went on Radio 4 and announced tests were available everywhere and there were "no problems getting tests"

Same day - same hour, in fact - Prime Minister Boris Johnson said the testing system "has huge problems"

Jacob Rees-Mogg, who simply cannot shut up about fish, said we should stop the "endless carping" about not being tested for a fatal infection

15.Prime Minister Boris Johnson went on national TV and announced a "£100bn moonshot" approach to Covid, which would test "10m people per day"

Three days later, in front of a Parliamentary Committee, said he "didn’t recognise" the figure of 10m a day

And it was reported his half-brother is on the board of the business that would get most of the £100bn budget, which I’m sure is just a massive coincidence

Officials branded the moonshot as "Moonfuck"

16. And then Health Secretary Matt Hancock had to ask other cabinet ministers to stop referring to him as "Matt WankCock"

Despite appearances, these are not 7 year old boys

17. Food news, and Tory MP Douglas Ross said "I have seen the difference free school meals can make, and I want to make sure nobody falls through the cracks"

Douglas Ross voted against free school meals

18. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said we cannot put punitive restrictions on food imports from the EU (to force them to give up on Ireland), or we will starve

And then, minutes later, he agreed with a Brexiter MP who said we SHOULD put punitive restrictions on food imports from the EU

19. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said "I venerate our civil service" after sacking the innocent heads of multiple departments to protect friends including Gavin Williamson and Dominic Cummings. And as a result, people leaving the civil service rose 14% in a year

20. Planning-ahead news: an international conglomerate pulled out of a £16bn power project because the government hasn’t performed its part of the deal for the last 20 months

21. Funding cuts since 2010 meant the government had to inject £700m to prevent further education going bankrupt

22. This week it was found the government– which last week voted not to implement the recommendations of the Grenfell Tower Inquiry – has also failed to deliver its promise to remove the same dangerous cladding from at least 2000 tower blocks. Sleep well.

And then the government said files on Grenfell were "lost forever", after a laptop was wiped. Because everything is always stored on a single laptop. We all know this.

The government runs G-Cloud, its own dedicated cloud backup service, which has been active since 2012. So... yeah.

23. At a committee in parliament, an MP read out the Covid test figures. Dido Harding, in charge of testing, said “I’m sorry, that’s just not true, I don’t know where that number is from”

It was from her own report. Page 8. In bold type.

Dido Harding said "nobody could predict" a rise in demand for testing

Government scientists predicted it, and in a July report sent to Dido Harding – maybe it was a different one? - said "July and Aug must be a period of intense preparation for a September resurgence in Covid"

Oh, and standard advice says the NHS must always prepare for cold and respiratory infections to spike immediately after the return to school in September

Dido Harding wasted £13m on a "world-beating" testing app that cost £12.3m more than the German app, and didn’t work

She is now in charge of the test-and-trace service which has collapsed completely

So naturally, it was reported the government wants to sack the head of NHS England and install Dido Harding instead. Let's make the most of that successful record, eh?

24. In June the government tweeted "grab a drink and raise a glass, pubs are reopening"

The Prime Minister said "it is your patriotic duty to go out and enjoy yourselves"

This week they said the public is responsible, and "people going to the pub fuelled the rise in Covid"

So the government closed pubs at 10pm, because it’s well-known viruses only pop out for last orders.

25. Health Secretary Matt Hancock said the government "threw a protective ring around care homes"

A leaked document said care homes are now being asked to accept patients who are known to have Covid

26. Hospitals were banned from launching their own testing regime for staff and patience because… nope, nobody knows why. Just because.

27. There hasn’t been a meeting of COBRA (the government’s committee for national emergencies, headed by the Prime Minister) since 10th May

28. As Covid infections surged, Health Secretary Matt Hancock said restrictions are increasing, and pointed to a chart showing the government has "moved to alert level 3". Level 3 is "a gradual relaxing of restrictions". Not only can't he remember his own alert system, he can't even read it.

29. Despite travel restrictions, it was reported the Prime Minister flew off for a long weekend in Perugia, where his friend the Russian billionaire Evgeny Lebedev lives. He denies it, but the airport has his landing documents. So either he’s lying or... no, that’s the end of that sentence

30. In June the government spent £500m on a GPS satellite system to replace the one we lose due to Brexit

In July it was reported "we bought the wrong satellites"

This week the government cancelled the programme and began asking the EU if we can keep on using their GPS system

31. A cross-party committee of MPs found nurse-Ratched cosplayer Home Office Secretary Priti Patel "bases immigration policies on anecdotes and prejudice"

It found her dept has "no idea" what its annual spending achieves, and referred to "the wreckage that [Patel’s department’s] ignorance caused"

She is one of the favourites to replace Prime Minister Johnson

32. This is because it was reported the Prime Minister is thinking of quitting because he’s worried about his personal finances: the poor man has to "pay tax", "buy his own food" and "support 4 of his 6 children". Oh, the humanity!

33. And Jonathan Aitken – look him up – continues to get privileged access to parliament despite a ban on MPs who have served more than a year in prison. Which he did. And it was hilarious.

34. And finally, because he always needs a guest appearance, Chris Grayling, the man who awarded a ferry contract to a company with no ships, has got a £100k appointment to advise ports”-Russ

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bobcathoneybee · 3 years

Text

that’s some next level catering to a yt person. reasons will become more clear as we go along for the ride. esp hurtful bc of everything going on in the last year alone. twinkie never rang more true until this year.

one. around xmas 2020:

“whatre you doing for nye”

“oh im going out to a small gathering”

“oh with who?”

“I DONT HAVE TO TELL YOU”

“whoa. okay...”

i was just asking since he NEVER wanted to go out to anything related to NYE in the five years. the reply was always, “YOU can go, i will be at home.” so see how i can be confused? also the spanish/grapes tradition? what happened to never not doing it? “oh last year really sucked so i dont see how doing it will help” cop out.

two. NYE to ring in 2021:

“how does this look?”

“i think you should button it, looks more put together”

little did i know i was helping him dress to impress new girl. that in itself was just rude and so disrespectful to me. if you’re going to see someone new. figure it out yourself.

a few days later he decides to finally tell me bc he knows he’s been acting so damn weird. but i dont think it’s bc he respects me too much (his rationale). i actually think it’s bc he feels guilty, and telling me will make HIM feel better, which was the driving factor for the previous Oct when he was not letting me pay for packing supplies and helping me pack. “it’s time (for me to start dating again)... weren’t you dating someone when you asked me about the boat noodles?” “NO. i was talking to someone and it was ONE date, which conveniently fit in the schedule while on my way home.”

three. a week before my bday:

“how was your weekend? what did you do?”

“oh K and family drove down in an RV so i was at my parents’ house”

“you went over both days?!”

“yeah”

“did you take pics of the RV or with family?”

“no”

in retrospect, i wonder if she was intro’d to the whole family that weekend. esp after seeing the pics from first friends gathering a few weeks later (two down).

sometime this week, he tells me that he’s thinking of taking june 1 off bc he wants to take me out to lunch for my bday. my bday is 5/31. so i’m like huh, cos it’s the day after. it’s the weekend. he doesn’t like to talk to ppl on the weekend.

four. my birthday:

bcb calls me in the morning but i miss it bc i wasn’t up yet. i called back at 230p or so and he doens’t pick up. calls me back around 430p and says he was at a bbq with some friends.

i believe this was when my spidey senses started tingling again. i bit my tongue and didn’t ask during lunch the next day bc it would make for such an awkward ride home. and me thinking oh he spent my actual birthday with new girl. i see.

five. convo from last week:

“whatre you doing this weekend?”

“oh i’m getting together with the guys bc it’s the first time we’re seeing each other since the pandemic started”

“ohh okay tell them i said hi!”

BET HE DID NOT TELL THEM I SAID HI. *side eye

six. social media that night, pics happened to pop up as i was doom-scrolling:

bcb likes to untag himself in things so i duno if R tagged him at all or if it was removed after he received the tag notif so that i wouldn’t see it.

either way, i was hit in both places since it’s posted on more than one platform.

wasn’t sure if they were still dating until i saw the pics. was finally able to put a face to the name. the name bc someone mentioned it to me thinking i knew her first AND last name. how absurd. why would i know this bit of info to begin with? maybe bcb needs to be more clear with what he’s telling his sibling about his dating life and how that relates to how he’s treating me.

seven. thursday, 6/17:

convo #1: in the afternoon -

“hey whatre you doing friday?”

“i’m not sure yet, why?”

“i’m having lunch with a family friend, thinking i could stop by (before my family dinner) since i’ll be in the area.”

“oh i was thinking of going to my parents house but i haven’t decided yet.”

“oh, okay”

convo #2: on my way home from dinner in the city -

“did you decide if you’re going to your parents house tmrw?”

“i’m probably going to hang out with some friends”

“oh okay.”

realized “friends’ is codeword for new girl.

oddities in behavior:

bought a new bike even tho he won’t use the rowing machine he purchased last summer that is LITERALLY sitting in his apt, doesn’t even need to go outside and see ppl. how many more times will he use it? not sure. it depends on how much how big the drive in proving me wrong is for this sort of thing.

watches hockey now. NEVER watched it before nor was he super interested. seems like he picked it up recently so there’s something to talk about if nothing else. (after breaking his NYE tradition)

went to a playoff game on a WEEKDAY. HE NEVER did that. to DRIVE to LI on a weekday for that sort of thing. complained that the tix were exp ($200+ each). and i’m like then why did you get them? “well they’re for the playoffs” “oh i didnt think you even liked hockey” i’m going to guess he paid for it bc someone wanted to go, and a topic they can connect on.

for trips and tickets to things, i usually split down the line and exclude a trip dinner or a few smaller things bc he says he got it and would like to pay for it. not sure yt ppl would offer to pay back in general. it’s an asian thing to offer/not let others always cover no matter how generous we know them to be. it’s to “not take advantage” bc we know better. and it’s considered rude to have someone else pay all the time.

at this point, it’s the emotional part that i’m supplementing (if it’s a missing piece) bc i have no idea if hes ever talked to her in regards to concerns about his life in general or if he’s still putting up some facade and only wants her to see the presentable side.

he didnt do his usual NYE tradition of the grapes this year on top of GOING OUT to something with other ppl present. he would rather invite ppl over to his place and provide entertainment and food instead of ever going out there. that is MAJOR.i cannot even begin to explain how impt doing this is to him. but not doing it and bending over backwards already. he NEVER misses the grape thing during the countdown no matter how “bad” a year may be. it’s like him having to watch it’s a wonderful life before xmas every year. it’s a thing he does NOT miss.

maybe it’s a mid-life crisis thing, like buying the car and then sort of regretting it bc it’s another thing to pay for so therefore has to stay at his job longer. btw, there were weird crumbs in the crevices of the front passenger seat the day after my birthday (when he picked me up), and then the whole actually voluntarily hanging out with ppl for a change. he absolutely hates being around ppl, yet he’ll do it for her. i’m sensing a pattern here for how he treats and changes for yt girl vs me and i didn’t even plan that many outings with my own friends for him to go to, max once every half year for a triple date.

but again, it’s like when we broke up, he removes things he can control when he’s super stressed. job he cannot control so the next thing to remove was me bc he can control that. now he’s finally thinking of leaving current job bc he has a sufficient amount saved. guess who helped him itemize and estimate his sinking and emergency funds? such a clown.

i’m done. i can’t do this anymore. it’s taking a toll on my mental health. all this walking on egg shells all the time when we speak on the phone/FT on every single workday/weekday. what C said about the situation rings true. i hope it happens. <^>

this brings me back to something i posted on my finsta:

“if you have to choose between me and her, choose her. because if you really loved me, there wouldn’t be any other choice.”

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lost-n-stereo · 4 years

Text

A/N: For anon who prompted me “Hallie+Sunshine”. Have a little 4th of July summer fic :)

and the sparks start flying (like the fourth of july)

She gets invited on a camping trip the first week of June, and when she says an invite she means that she quite literally received an e-vite from Helena through Facebook. There’s a group page and everything, with people RSVP’ing and talking about what alcohol they are going to bring and which campsites around the state are the best.

It’s not surprising to see the usual suspects on the list of people going. If Helena is setting it up that means that Luke is definitely going, since they are engaged and it’s just sort of a given. If Luke’s going then Clark and Jason will tag along with their girlfriends, and if the girls go then all of their friends will too. It’s a bit of a surprise to Allie though when she sees Harry RSVP and she kind of wants to comment on his post about how boat shoes aren’t generally camping attire but it feels shitty and she doesn’t want to be a dick for no reason.

The trip is planned for Fourth of July weekend, which is a little cliché but she doesn’t mind all that much. She orders a new tent off Amazon and an expensive pair of hiking boots because she’s not sure where exactly they are going yet but she feels like she should be prepared for anything. Becca calls her and asks if they should do some bathing suit shopping before the trip and they spend the day trying on different suits and drinking their daily calories in the form of food court smoothies.

It’s one of those rare times that the fourth falls on a weekend, so she takes the Friday before and the Monday after off from work and thanks the gods above that she works with a majority of older people that don’t care about the holiday weekend. They decided on a state park that has campgrounds that will fit all of them, she thinks it’s nearing twenty plus people going at last count, and a giant lake with tons of water sports and activities to do. She heard a rumor that someone rented out the entire stretch of sites on one side of the lake so they wouldn’t be bothered. No one said it was Harry but she can make an educated guess that was his doing.

There’s an honest to god party bus taking a large group of people to the lake but she decides to hitch a ride with Elle instead. The girl has a kick ass Jeep with no doors and it feels good flying down the highway with their camping gear piled high in the back and old school hip hop blaring out of the radio. Elle takes a sharp turn into the campground’s parking lot and Allie laughs as her body jerks out of the open door and her hair flies into her face as they jerk to a stop.

“You’re an absolute maniac,” Allie says on a laugh as they unbuckle their seat belts. “I fucking love it.”

Elle just flashes a grin and gets to work on unloading her tent from the back of the Jeep.

“Need some help?”

Allie rolls her eyes at the sound of Harry’s voice behind her and he’s grinning and eating an apple with a pocket knife when she turns around.

“I think we got it, thanks.”

He just shrugs, throws her a wink before heading over to where a group of people are unloading cases of beer out of the back of someone’s pickup. The parking lot is a madhouse. People are everywhere and Allie wonders in amusement if Helena is currently freaking out because there definitely were not this many RSVP’s in her Facebook group.

As if she conjured up the woman herself, Helena rushes up to Allie with a panicked look on her face. There are people Allie’s never seen falling out of backseats in fits of giggles, girls running around in barely there bikinis and dude-bros in board shorts lining up shots on the tailgate of a truck. It’s like a very cliché music video set to the sound of Post Malone pumping from someone’s car speakers.

“Are you seeing this shit?”

Allie laughs and reaches behind the seat for her backpack. “Yeah, it’s nuts. Who even are all these people?”

“Friends of friends,” Helena says, rolling her eyes as she takes a headcount. “There has to be over fifty people here already. It’s a good thing Harry rented so many campsites otherwise we’d be totally fucked.”

It’s the first confirmation she’s heard of Harry being the party benefactor but it doesn’t surprise her at all. He was always the one throwing giant parties in high school. His parents even rented an entire hotel for their senior prom, not just a banquet hall but the entire fucking thing.

“Let’s just be thankful no families with children will have to be in a tent next to that.” Allie points with her chin to where Lexie is currently pushed up against the side of a Suburban with a guy kissing down the column of her throat. “So much for a low key camping trip, ‘Lena.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Harry says, coming up to them with a Stella bottle hanging between his fingers. She wonders why he’s just randomly popping up when she knows his friends are here somewhere. Allie notices for the first time that he’s wearing flip flops, briefly stunned by the sight of his sort of bare feet. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen this man’s toes in the entire time they’ve known each other. The four years since high school have been good to him but that’s not a surprise. He has unimaginable wealth and a great job on top of that so she’s not shocked that he’s doing so well for himself so soon after graduating.

She went to school for accounting, ended up at a decent firm after graduating where the median age is mid forties, but she’s living in Brooklyn now which she loves and that’s what counts. Last she heard Harry was living in Manhattan but she doesn’t go that way often and someone like him probably wouldn’t be caught dead in her neighborhood.

Not that she cares or anything because what Harry Bingham does with his time has nothing to do with her.

“Better hope you get your deposit back,” Allie quips as she grabs a bottle of water out of her pack. Harry holds up his beer and asks if she wants one of her own. “No, Harry. It’s like nine-thirty in the morning. And don’t even say it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Harry chuckles and takes a deep pull from the bottle. She shouldn’t think it’s sexy how he licks his lips after but well, it is. He smirks a little like he knows what she’s thinking and she rolls her eyes.

“I wasn’t going to,” he tells her. “I was just going to remind you that it’s Friday, you’re not at work at that stuffy job you go to every day, and it’s a fucking holiday. Enjoy yourself for once, Pressman.”

There’s not an ounce of heat in his words but it still cuts a little because she has fun, thank you very much. She might spend a lot of time in her studio apartment and she may only have a small group of good friends but she’s happy and that’s what matters. Helena just looks between them with her eyebrows raised, as if she’s waiting for world war three to start right there in the parking lot but Allie just shrugs, grabs the beer from his hand and chugs the rest of it before using her thumb to wipe foam from the side of her lip. Her heart pounds a little as Harry tracks the movement with laser focus and then she’s the one smirking, pushing the empty bottle into his chest.

“Looks like you need a refill.”

The absolute shock on his face makes her feel better than it probably should and Helena’s jaw is practically on the floor.

“Well played, Pressman.” Harry tilts his bottle towards her in what may be a show of respect and leaves again without a word.

“What the hell was that?” Helena presses when he’s out of earshot. Allie just shrugs, asks Helena if she’d mind helping her grab her tent out of the back of the Jeep so she can set up camp somewhere.

***

It’s dark when the real crazy stuff starts to happen.

There’s a group of people running around naked because someone thought it would be a good idea to go skinny dipping in a national park. Allie is pretty sure there are supposed to be park rangers patrolling but she supposes it wouldn’t be hard for a certain someone to grease a few palms to keep them away for the night.

Speak of the devil…

“You look like you could use a drink.”

An ice cold White Claw drops into her lap and she gasps, her thighs bare since she’s just in a bikini top and denim cutoffs.

“What in the fuck, Harry!”

He just laughs, drops down beside her in a pair of bright orange board shorts and nothing else. “Just paying you back for that little stunt with my beer this morning.”

Allie rolls her eyes, pops the cap of the cocktail and drinks half of it in one go. “You deserved that. You’re always antagonizing me. Been that way since we were kids.”

“Bullshit,” he says but when she looks at him out of the corner of her eye he’s grinning a little, fingers playing with the string of his shorts. It’s fucking distracting. “Maybe I was flirting.”

Her cheeks heat a little but she knows Harry, has known him practically all her life. Maybe sometimes things he’s done could be considered flirting but that’s only because he flirts with everyone.

“I’m sure,” she says, finishing off the drink and tossing the can into a bin nearby designated for recycling. “Shouldn’t you be over there with your friends?”

“They aren’t as fun to fuck with as you are.”

Allie points at him. “Ah! So you admit you like fucking with me!”

There’s no denying his eyes go a little dark and then she’s wishing that she could take that back because now it just sounds dirty. She’s expecting a dirty comment in return but that’s not at all what she gets.

“Maybe I just like talking to you. Maybe…”

She tilts her head a little when he doesn’t continue. “Maybe what, Harry?”

His teeth scrape across his bottom lip a little as he thinks but then he shakes his head like he’s literally trying to erase a thought from his mind. He stands up abruptly, brushes a little dirt and sand off his board shorts and throws her a casual wink.

“It’s nothing. Have a good night, Al.”

***

She wakes up with the hangover from hell and finds herself cuddled in between Sam and Grizz.

“What the shit?”

Grizz mumbles a little, presses his nose into the back of her neck and she giggles. “Shhh, you’re so comfortable and my brain is heavy.”

It makes no sense at all but she also completely gets it because her brain feels heavy too. It’s hot as fuck in this tent, which she realizes now is not her own. She tries to piece together what happened after Harry left her the night before. Not that she got blackout drunk or anything but she did let Becca and Grizz talk her into Jägerbombs which are never a good idea.

Sam’s eyes blink open and then he smiles and it reminds her of the sleepovers they used to have as kids. She signs, asks him if he wants some coffee and he nods, so she gets up to go find the little brew pot that Helena said she was bringing.

She can see the row of little camp areas stretching all the way down to the end of the lake, each with its own barbecue and campfire area. Every site can fit three or four tents and the one she set her tent up in is shared with Grizz and Sam, Helena and Luke, and Becca. Grizz’s tent is huge with multi rooms and she knows it’s probably because he’s really into spending time outdoors, fishing and camping all over the state. What they are all doing this week borders somewhere on glamping, because she’s almost positive she saw someone set up portable solar panels to run some gaming station and a small television.

There’s a pack of water bottles next to their makeshift “kitchen” by the campfire so she grabs one, empties it into the brew pot and waits for it to get hot so she can make coffee for her and her friends. Most of the campsites are quiet, which makes sense because it’s eight in the morning and the party raged until at least six this morning. When the coffee is ready she brings a cup to Sam, who puts a finger to his lips and nods to Grizz, who’s already passed out again. Allie grins, hands him the cup and signs have a good morning to him before quietly leaving the tent.

“Top of the morning to you, Pressman.”

Harry is helping himself to a cup of coffee from the pot and Allie rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have someone else to bug this morning, Bingham?”

“I like bugging you more,” he says with a smirk and she doesn’t miss the way he doesn’t say maybe like he did the night before. It’s like he’s finally acknowledging the fact that he’s always trying to get under her skin. She used to think it was because he was annoyed by her but after last night she wonders if maybe she was wrong about that. “Cup of coffee?”

Allie huffs and takes it from him. “I made that for me and my friends, if you couldn’t tell.”

Harry puts on a fake pout, which makes his lips look really fucking good and she tries to ignore the little flutter in her stomach when she notices it. “I’m hurt, Al. I thought we were friends?”

“Why are you even up this early?” She asks, ignoring the question of their friendship. It’s not that they aren’t friendly but they aren’t exactly hanging out on weekends either. Which...okay so she knows they are quite literally hanging out on a weekend right now but that doesn’t count. They have just always known each other, from him being in the same class all through school as Cassandra. She remembers one year when they were science partners and he was at their house once a week during the second semester to complete a project. Cassandra had complained about him being lazy and incompetent but Allie knows he put effort into it because she’d sometimes hang out in the kitchen while they worked and he was always putting in his own ideas just to have her sister throw them out. Which, if you know her sister, is par for the course on pretty much everything.

“Work hours,” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “No matter what I do or how late I stay up the night before I’m always up at sunrise. What about you?”

“Same,” she admits. “I feel like a total bum if I sleep past ten.”

They both laugh and she realizes they are actually having a conversation, even if it’s stupid and doesn’t really mean anything. But he’s not picking on her and she’s not throwing attitude back at his snark and it’s actually sort of nice.

“So I hear we have a busy day this morning,” he says as he lowers himself into a folding chair that’s set up near the unlit campfire. “Helena has planned our day down to the minute, it seems.”

Allie chuckles, pulls up a chair and sets it near him but where she can still see his face. “Sounds like my girl.”

“Actually it’s my girl,” Luke says from behind her and they all laugh. “You made coffee? Allie, you’re a lifesaver.”

When she looks at Harry she sees a little flash of disappointment in his eyes and she can’t help but wonder if it’s because it’s not just the two of them anymore.

She also wonders if the same look of disappointment flashes in her own eyes when Harry gets up, tells them he’s off to get ready for the day, and leaves her and Luke to wake up the rest of their friends.

***

Her feet hurt.

It was Helena’s idea to take a drive up the road to a hiking trail less than ten minutes away from the lake. And while Allie might have remembered to purchase new hiking boots what she forgot to do was break them in before wearing them.

“You look miserable,” Harry comments as they move up the trail, which just seems to go up and up and up. He’s not even breaking a sweat and she sees well worn boots on his feet which surprises her. “When was the last time you went hiking?”

“Um...never?”

Harry chuckles and pulls her to the side, his hand on her arm as he guides her to a large rock just off the path. “Let me help,” he says, kneeling down in front of her and unlacing her boot. Helena passes by, eyebrows high, but Harry just waves her off, tells the group they will catch up.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is far more breathless than she wants it to be but holy shit, Harry Bingham is crouched in front of her, picking up her sore foot delicately and placing it on his knee.

“Helping,” he says simply as he unlaces her boot and works it off her right foot, followed by her sock. After repeating the same steps with her other foot, he places them gently on the ground before standing in front of her. “Lift your legs.”

“Excuse me?” Her face flushes but he just smirks, grabs each foot and places them on his thighs with her knees together.

“You need to elevate your feet,” he explains as he positions her just so. “It’ll work, trust me.”

They probably look ridiculous, him standing in front of her with a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes and his hair a ruffled mess and her perched on a rock with her feet on his legs. But he wasn’t wrong and after a few minutes she can feel the pain lessening by the second.

“How long do I have to do this?”

Harry looks down at his watch. “About fifteen minutes and we’ve been here for eight so get comfortable.”

Allie laughs and tilts her head back. “You’re not sitting on the hardest rock known to man. My bony ass can’t handle this.”

“Your ass isn’t that bony,” he says but it’s not an insult, she can tell. It’s definitely a compliment, and a heated one at that.

“Spend a lot of time checking out my ass, Bingham?”

Harry just shrugs, a little grin playing on his lips as he looks down at her. Her cheeks heat again and she rolls her eyes for something to do because she’s not exactly sure what to say back. The last thing she expected this morning was to be hiking with Harry, who’s apparently some sort of expert, and then have him basically admit to checking her out before.

“We should catch up with everyone,” she says a few minutes later and he checks his watch again, nods and moves her legs carefully so she can put her shoes and socks back on. “Thanks,” she says quietly as she flexes her toes. “That really did help.”

“You should trust me more often.” He puts a hand out for her to grab and she accepts, ignores the little electricity she feels when her skin touches his. It’s hard not to be attracted to someone like Harry, who exudes confidence in everything that he does. And he’s obviously not bad to look at even though he dresses like a future senator eighty percent of the time and wears his cockiness like a badge. He just keeps showing her these little sides of personality that she’s never seen before and frankly, it’s hard to ignore.

They make up time quickly, thanks to Harry’s hiking skills and her mostly refreshed feet. When they reach the others everyone is standing at the top of the little mountain they just climbed, eyes focused on something in the distance.

“What is everyone looking at?” Allie asks no one in particular but stops short with a little gasp when she takes in the view they are all gaping at. The entire lake is visible from their viewpoint, the crystal blue water shimmering in the mid afternoon sun. She can see their side of the lake, with people milling around the sites like little ants. There are boats pulling people on water skis and tons of water crafts making waves for people in floating inner tubes. The lake is surrounded by trees on three sides and Allie thinks it might be one of the most beautiful views she’s ever seen in real life.

“This is breathtaking,” she says, mostly to herself, but then she feels a hand bump hers as Harry steps up next to her.

“It sure is,” he says quietly, his eyes sliding from the view before them to her face and then back again. His pinkie touches the side of her hand just barely and the idea to reach over to hold his hand is sudden and unexpected. She doesn’t do it but she finds that she wants to and that confuses her even more.

***

“Fifty bucks says I can chug this entire bottle of Jack in under a minute!”

Allie rolls her eyes as she passes by a group of guys that she went to high school with, all of them former jocks and not so bright.

“Pretty sure fifty bucks isn’t going to be enough to get your stomach pumped,” she tosses back in their direction before heading towards the campfire that’s currently warming the majority of her friend group.

After the hike they spent the day in the water, swimming and riding around on the Jet Skis that Helena had brought for the weekend. Harry offered to rent a boat to take them out but the boats were all rented out by the time they made it back to the lake.

“Tomorrow then,” he had said, dropping his credit card on the counter and winking at the girl making the reservations. Allie’d rolled her eyes and Harry had just laughed and winked at her too.

It’s hard not to notice that he looks really good right now, sitting by the fire with a bottle of beer hanging from his fingertips, his skin perfectly tanned from being in the sun all day. He’s wearing board shorts again but he finally put a shirt on, a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It annoys her that he can make anything look good.

The little smile he gives her when she walks up to the fire pit is almost too much to handle.

“Need a drink?” Becca asks, pushing a wine cooler into her hand before she can even answer. Allie laughs, thanks her and lowers herself into a chair that just happens to be next to Harry. He smirks a little around the mouth of his beer but doesn’t comment on where she chose to sit down.

“When do the fireworks start?” She asks Helena, who checks her watch before pointing towards the west of the lake, where there’s no trees and wide open skies.

“They will be over there in about an hour,” she says. “They won’t be super close because they are technically lit in town but we’ll see the show pretty clearly.”

They sit around for the next forty minutes drinking and laughing around the fire. Luke and Clark decide to have a rock skipping competition and Allie laughs as everyone scurries around to find the perfect flat rock to enter. Right before the fireworks are about to start Harry nudges her, leans over so he’s almost whispering in her ear.

“Want to find somewhere quiet to watch the show?”

Everyone around them is either drunk, searching for rocks or both, and no one is paying attention when she nods, stands up and tells him to lead the way.

They walk side by side next to the lake heading away from the party that’s already raging despite the fact that it’s barely ten at night. Allie practically chokes when they pass a couple full on having sex against a tree and Harry laughs, steers them away from the obnoxious moaning and towards an empty spot on the beach.

“I should have bought a blanket,” he complains as he settles in the sand and Allie smiles as she drops down next to him.

“A little sand never hurt anyone. Don’t be a baby.” He quirks an eyebrow at her and she giggles, which she only does when she’s this side of perfectly drunk.

Harry is quiet as he pulls his knees up and sits with his arms dangling in between them. “You’ve been different today,” he says so softly she can barely hear him. “More like you used to be.”

“What does that mean?” She’s sitting cross legged and stays that way as she turns so she’s facing him. He just shrugs which makes her roll her eyes. “You’ve been different too.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and she nods. “How so?”

She snorts, leans back on her hands which makes her knees touch the side of his leg. “If you’re not going to tell me, why should I tell you?”

“What are we, twelve?” He says on a laugh and she shrugs, giving him a dose of his own medicine. He sighs, like it’s a total inconvenience to explain something that he started anyways. “You were fun. Carefree.”

“It was a good day,” she says and he nods. “And you were flirting with me, which is new.” It’s a bold statement because maybe he wasn’t, maybe it was just like all the other times when he was flirty because he’s Harry Bingham and that’s just how he is. He charms, it’s in his DNA.

Harry scoffs a little and shakes his head like she’s missing something. “Me flirting with you is not new, Allie.”

The way he says her name does something to her, the way she can see his tongue when his mouth forms the word. They aren’t saying anything, just staring at each other when the first boom of fireworks sounds off overhead. Neither of them startle or even really acknowledge the show going off above them. She likes the way the colors flash across his face, bright blue and neon pink, and before she realizes what’s happening he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers quickly in a surprisingly gentle and innocent kiss.

He pulls away first, rests his forehead on hers with a little smile playing on his face.

“What was that?” The words are practically whispered, breath feather light over almost touching lips.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t go to kiss her again, just smiles softly before pulling away.

Allie smiles too and pulls away, rests her hands behind her in the sand and settles in to watch the show.

***

“Where did you run off to last night?”

The campsites are stirring the next morning with activity as everyone wakes up after the sun is high and the weather is warm. Helena is sitting by the campfire, a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.

“I went for a walk,” Allie says carefully, not sure if she should say anything about what happened with Harry or not. They only shared one little kiss, and while it was wildly romantic with the fireworks sounding off above them, she’s not quite sure where they go from here. “What are you up to?”

Helena holds up her phone. “Trying to secure our boat for the day online. Harry already gave his credit card information to the rental place, I’m on hold.”

It’s then that Allie can hear the hold music playing quietly from Helena’s phone which is on speaker mode. Allie snorts when she recognizes the song, some piano version of a top 40 hit, and pours herself a cup of coffee.

A few minutes later a woman’s voice comes over the line, letting Helena know that she’s secured a boat for them that they can pick up in an hour. Helena thanks the woman and ends the call, stands up and wipes sand from the back of her shorts.

“This place is too fucking sandy,” she says and Allie laughs into her coffee mug. “I’m going to start rounding up the usual suspects. You’re in, right?”

Allie nods. “Definitely. I’ll get ready and meet you back here at ten.”

She finishes up her drink and heads to her tent to get ready for the day. There are two options for swimming suits, the one she wore yesterday which was bright blue and white, perfect for the fourth. But she decides on the flashier suit she’d purchased just because it was beautiful in the store and she couldn’t help herself. She slides on a pair of denim shorts and throws a sun hat on for good measure. She’s just finished applying sunscreen when a throat clearing at the tent’s entrance makes her jump.

“Jesus, Allie.”

Harry is standing there, one fist up to his mouth as he takes her in from head to toe. And now she knows this bathing suit was worth the price tag because he’s looking at her like he never has before.

“That suit..”

Allie laughs quietly and looks down at the top, a white ruffled halter top embellished with gold jewels that sit right under her breasts. There’s an additional piece connected to the bottoms that wraps around her middle that is purely for show, the gold jewels trailing down her stomach to meet the top of her shorts. With her recently tanned skin the stark white of the suit pops, making her look even more sunkissed.

“You like?” She asks with a cocked eyebrow and Harry nods slowly as he takes her in.

He looks around outside quickly before stepping into her tent. “That is by far the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says when he’s right in front of her. She inhales sharply when he gently touches the jeweled piece on her tummy. He’s making her feel all kinds of things and he’s not even touching her skin.

“I’m glad you like it,” she says breathlessly and it makes him smile. Feeling a little bold she pushes up closer to him, leans up so she can whisper in his ear. “Wait until you see the rest of it.”

Harry lets out a little groan that makes her giggle as she pushes past him. She’s not exactly sure why she’s being so bold, or flirty at all for that matter, but it’s like their kiss from the night before has unlocked something she didn’t really know how to admit before.

She sort of likes him.

Half an hour later she’s got a beer in her hand as the boat floats lazily along the lake. It was big enough for a fairly large group of people and they are everywhere, laughing and drinking like it’s not before noon on a Sunday. Helena and Luke are talking quietly and kissing in a corner and Allie finds herself wishing for the first time in a long time that she had someone in her life to giggle and kiss whenever she wanted.

“They are disgustingly in love, don’t you think?”

Harry chooses that moment to drop down beside her, his chin nodding towards the engaged couple.

“I think it’s sweet,” Allie says, her eyes taking in Harry’s board shorts and bare chest. A pair of Ray Bans cover his eyes as he lays down in the lounge chair next to hers and gets comfortable. He rests his phone face down on his stomach and Allie snorts. “You’re going to get a weird tan if you leave that there.”

Harry just smirks and glances at her suit. “You’re one to talk, Pressman”

Allie just shakes her head with a laugh. “I lathered myself up in sunscreen before we left. I think I’ll be okay.”

Harry shifts in his chair and gives her a heated look. “I know, I saw.”

She remembers him coming in after she put on her sunscreen, wonders how long he was standing there before he cleared his throat.

“Perv,” she says with a smile to show him she’s not mad and he laughs, a bright and loud sound that makes a few people look their way.

They spend the day eating, drinking and playing in the lake. By the time they dock she’s perfectly buzzed, warmed by the setting sun and the margaritas Elle made for the girls on the boat.

“Let’s party!” Clark yells as he jumps into the sand and Allie rolls her eyes as everyone cheers as if that’s not what they’ve been doing all day. But it is their last night here so she follows her tipsy friends through the campsites until they arrive back at hers, which is apparently party central tonight.

Someone turns on music and Billie Eilish starts playing, a thumping bass beat that has everyone up and dancing around the now lit campfire. Elle stumbles up to her, a wide grin splitting her face, and Allie knows the girl is definitely tequila wasted right now which means she’s probably feeling on top of the world.

“Dance with me!”

Allie laughs and lets Elle pull her into the crowd of people dancing to “Bad Guy” like it hasn’t been on the radio for the past two summers. She turns when she feels eyes on her, sees Harry sitting on the tailgate of Luke’s truck. His eyes are following her every move, and he doesn’t look away as he takes a pull from the long neck bottle in his hands. Even from this far away she can feel her skin heat when he licks his lips, eyes fixed on her like he doesn’t see anyone else.

“Dude, I think Harry likes you!” Elle yells over the music and Allie stills, tears her eyes away from him to face her friend.

“What makes you say that?”

Elle shrugs, which looks ridiculous because she’s drunk dancing all over the place. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here. Go talk to him.”

Allie pales, looks around to see if anyone is listening to this conversation. It’s not that she really cares what anyone thinks, and he has been flirting with her more than usual. But he’s a known womanizer and it honestly scares her a little to think that maybe this is just the norm for him. Flirting with a girl until he gets what he wants and where will she be then? In a surprisingly sober move Elle puts her hands on Allie’s shoulders and looks her in the eye.

“Stop being afraid, Al.”

Allie takes a deep breath and nods, stands up taller and squares her shoulders back as she heads to where Harry’s sitting.

His eyebrows go up a little in surprise when she stops right in front of him, practically standing in between where his legs are open and dangling off the tailgate.

“What are we doing, Harry? You kiss me last night and then never mention it, and now you’re watching me like…”

“Like what?” He asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence and she melts a little at the deep and husky tone of his voice. “Tell me, Allie.”

“Like you want to do it again and never stop.”

He lets out a little breath of surprise as she steps in between his legs and leans up to kiss him. When he doesn’t immediately return the kiss she sort of panics but then he’s sliding down off the tailgate and pulling her into his arms to deepen the kiss. It’s not like the sweet kiss from the night before, it’s raw and full of emotion, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip until she’s weak in the knees.

There are hoots and hollers around them as he continues to kiss her but she doesn’t care. Maybe it’s the faint tequila buzz she’s still feeling or maybe it’s just how drunk she’s getting off this kiss, the taste of expensive beer on Harry’s lips as he sips at her lips her right there in front of their friends.

“Maybe we should rejoin the party,” he murmurs against her lips several minutes later and she smiles, reaches for his hand and pulls him in the direction of his tent one campsite over.

“Maybe we should have our own?”

He practically growls in agreement and follows behind her as she makes her way through the crowd. Elle winks her as they pass and Allie just grins, turns around to see Harry’s eyes lit up with alcohol and want, as they make their way over to his tent.

***

The lake is quiet when she steps down to the shore the next morning. It’s still early, everyone getting some much needed rest after the debauchery of the night before. Even from Harry’s tent, where they spent the night making out (plus a little more) and talking until neither could keep their eyes open, they could hear the party raging from the next campsite over.

“Morning, Pressman.”

Allie smiles when Harry comes up behind her, puts his arms around her waist and drops a kiss to her temple. “Good morning to you too.”

“I didn’t like waking up alone,” he admits quietly. “I fell asleep with you in my arms, kinda wanted to wake up like that too.”

The sentiment is sweet and it makes her heart beat furiously in her chest. “What happens next, Harry?”

He kisses her cheek. “What do you mean?”

Allie sighs, turns around in his arms so she can look up at him. “I mean, we’re on vacation. This weekend has been fun but what happens in two hours when it ends?”

“Then we don’t let it end,” he says simply. “You swear like Brooklyn and Manhattan are two separate planets. We can do this, Allie. I want to.”

She inhales sharply, surprised by how earnest his words are. “You do?”

Harry rolls his eyes a little and chuckles. “Allie, I’ve liked you since high school. This shouldn’t be such a shock.”

“I didn’t know,” she says but maybe she just missed it. Maybe all the flirting, every time he randomly joined in a conversation, maybe it wasn’t him being a womanizer. Maybe he really did just like her. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asks and she rolls her eyes as if to say duh. “It just never felt like the right time. You were younger, your sister hated me. One of us was always dating someone else. And then life, you know?”

She nods because she does know. “Well I’m glad you told me now. But I do have issue with one thing that you said.”

His eyebrows dip together. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Allie smiles as she leans up to kiss him. “Manhattan and Brooklyn are like two different planets.”

Harry laughs and wraps his arms around her, dropping kisses from her mouth to her shoulder and then back up again.

“Guess we’ll just have to compromise,” he says, turning her around so they can watch the sun shine on the still water of the lake. “Some nights at my place, some nights at yours.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She settles back into his arms, enjoying the way the sun warms her face as it rises high in the sky, welcoming the new day.

#hallie #hallie fanfiction #harry and allie #harry bingham #allie pressman #fanfic

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trulymadlysydney · 5 years

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Somewhere In Time: Seven

“I won't tell you that the world matters nothing, or the world's voice, or the voice of society. They matter a good deal. They matter far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose between living one's own life, fully, entirely, completely—or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands. You have that moment now. Choose!”

― Oscar Wilde

Previous Chapters HERE

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

1:18pm, June 23rd, 1965

Twelve-year-old Tanya Elliot groans from her spot on the floor as she closes yet another book in disappointment. The book had looked so promising just by the cover, but she’d opened it to find that it only skimmed over the subject of time travel in a satirical way. Not at all what she’d been hoping for.

On top of that, the grown-ups at the check-out counter are being ridiculously loud and distracting.

Tanya doesn’t know why adults talk so loudly with each other, but she’s noticed that all adults do it. Her mother does it on the phone, and her father does it at church on Sundays when he and his friends are talking about what they’ve done all weekend. She doesn’t get it; when adults talk to her, they sound like they’re speaking to a child-- all gentle and frilly. When they talk to each other, it seems they’re trying to out-yell one another.

Crawling on all fours, Tanya makes her way to the end of the aisle to spy on the conversation. (And also, in part, to be petty. She’s trying to read and they’re being awfully inconsiderate.)

There’s Daisy Hartford, the older woman who owns the place. Tanya doesn’t actually know how old Mrs. Hartford is, but she has graying blonde hair that she keeps short and pinned off of her face at all times, and her hands are a bit wrinkled and spotted-- so Tanya assmes she’s a grandmother’s age. Mrs. Hartford is a kind woman, but her patience runs thin and she gets flustered quite easily, so Tanya does her best to stay out of the way.

And then there’s Miss Eileen, Mrs. Hartford’s daughter. Miss Eileen is a woman around the same age as Tanya’s own mother and she works here at the shop as well. Tanya absolutely adores her, and Miss Eileen dotes upon Tanya as if she were her own. She gives excellent advice in a motherly way, but has the best stories in a sisterly way, and Tanya finds herself coming to Miss Eileen for pretty much anything.

But standing at the front of the room with them is a man Tanya has never seen before. He seems to be only a few years older than Mrs. Hartford, with hair that’s turning white along his sideburns and stick out from under his cap. He’s handsome for an older gentleman, and Tanya feels instantly intrigued by him.

“We haven’t seen you in months!” Mrs. Hartford says. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing well,” he says with a nod of his head. Tanya notes the British accent that she hadn’t really been paying attention to before, and it intrigues her even more. “I’ve been terribly busy with the company lately. Steven-- you remember Steven-- took the liberty of hiring several new men without consulting me first, so you can imagine what a nightmare it’s been having to train them.”

Mrs. Hartford shakes her head. “That’s too bad, dear. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, you’re always welcome back here!” Miss Eileen teases. “You know I’m getting ready to take over once mom retires.”

“I heard!” The man smiles. “Congratulations. That is wonderful news.”

Miss Eileen beams. “Thank you!”

Mrs. Hartford, however, doesn’t even seem to be listening. She eyes the man with a suspicious face before speaking. “You look tired, dear. Have you slept?”

His face drops a little, but it’s hardly noticeable because he covers it with a dimpled smile. “Not much. But it’s alright. No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

The man trails off when he notices Miss Eileen looking behind him, and when he turns to follow her gaze, Tanya realizes with horror that all three adults have spotted her.

Miss Eileen giggles at Tanya. “You alright, love? Need help finding anything?”

The man’s face practically goes white when he and Tanya make eye contact, although Tanya has no idea why. She has never seen him before in her life, but he seems to recognize her-- and she isn’t sure if that is a good or a bad thing.

Tanya smiles awkwardly. “I’m fine, sorry. I was just-- reading.” Why do adults always have to make everything so uncomfortable?

Miss Eileen shoots Tanya a wink, and Mrs. Hartford has already resumed conversation with the man-- albeit much, much quieter than before. The man only seems to be halfway listening, still eyeing Tanya as if he’s seeing a ghost, and Tanya quickly turns to crawl back to her hiding spot.

She begins reshelving the previously discarded books, trying her hardest not to eavesdrop on the conversation. Everyone is talking so quietly now, so all Tanya can really make out is the British man saying, “I’m alright, Daisy.” She also hears her name being thrown around a bit and she realizes they’re explaining to the man who she is.

Tanya tries to distract herself by focusing on literally anything else. What is her mother going to make for dinner tonight? It’s Wednesday, which means it’s casserole night. She remembers with dismay that her mother is planning on making her chicken and broccoli casserole, and her stomach turns at the thought. She’s never been a fan of the casserole, and--

“Excuse me?”

Tanya turns slowly to see the British man smiling down at her. He seems less startled than before, and his smile is incredibly friendly. He studies Tanya’s face with a grin, before holding out his hand. “Mr. H,” he says, by way of introducing himself.

Tanya eyes his hand, then looks at his face again. She doesn’t know why, but she knows she can trust this man. So she softens and reaches out to take his hand. Using her best adult voice, she introduces herself. “Tanya Elliot.”

Mr. H’s breath hitches when she says her name, but he covers it quickly by clearing his throat and giving her a nice, firm handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Elliot. Figured I should introduce myself. I’m known to pop in here every now and then, and I’m told you’re a regular here.”

Tanya smiles proudly, resuming her work of placing the books back on the shelf. “I am! I’m here every day.” Tanya pauses. “Well, except for Saturdays and Sundays when it’s closed. Or when I’m at school. But it’s summer now! So I’ve been here every day.”

Mr. H chuckles softly. “I see. What are you doing putting the books away? Seem a bit young to have a job here.”

That’s another thing that adults do that Tanya doesn’t like. They say things like that jokingly, but they’re never really that funny. Tanya isn’t a child. She sighs. “I’m only twelve, Mr. H. I don’t have a job here.”

He seems taken aback but pleasantly surprised at her sass. He laughs again. “I beg your pardon, miss. Didn’t mean anything by that. I used to work here myself, you know.”

“You did?”

“Yes ma’am. Worked here for nearly ten years. It’s an amazing place to spend your time. Maybe when you’re older you’d like a job here?”

“Maybe,” Tanya replies. “Although I’d love to go to college. I want to be a scientist when I grow up.”

Tanya doesn’t notice the way Mr. H’s shoulders sink when she mentions growing up. “I see. Is that why you’re here in the science section?”

“Yes sir.” Tanya pauses as she places the last book on the shelf. “Well, that and….” She trails off, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. “Nevermind. You’re going to laugh.”

“Who says I will?” Mr. H presses. “No laughing here.”

“All adults laugh when I tell them,” Tanya says sadly. “They all tell me how adorable it is, and how impossible it is.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” The sincerity of his words isn’t lost on Tanya, but the intensity with which he says them goes over her head.

She lets out a long heavy sigh. “Okay. I really want to learn how to travel in time.”

This time, Tanya does notice how tense Mr. H seems, especially when he audibly gulps. She frowns. “You’re trying not to laugh, aren’t you?”

“No!” Mr. H says quickly. “No, Tanya, that isn’t it at all.” He glances over his shoulder back at Mrs. Hartford and Miss Eilleen, before stepping further into the aisle and closer to Tanya. “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

Tanya nods, excited at the prospect of what he’s going to share. Adults never share secrets with her. Not serious ones at least. A smile tugs on Mr. H’s cheeks as he removes his hat and leans down to Tanya’s level. “I knew a time traveler once.”

Tanya’s whole face lights up. “You did?”

“I did!” He nods. “She was a beautiful girl. She looked a bit like you.”

Tanya gasps. “Do you think it was me? Maybe I learned how!”

Mr. H smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his voice. “It wasn’t you, I’m afraid, but that doesn’t mean you can’t figure it out, too!”

A wave of excitement pulses through Tanya’s veins. She can tell that Mr. H isn’t lying to her just to get her hopes up, and it excites her. “How did you meet her?” Her voice is quiet, matching his, and she realizes just how close she’s leaning towards him.

“She just sort of… fell into my lap I suppose.” Mr. H chuckles. “That’s one way to put it, at least. She stayed with me for some time. She was fascinating.”

“Did she tell you how she did it?”

Mr. H seems lost in his own mind now. “Sort of. It’s been ages, so I’m not sure I remember. But, the ability to travel through time like that is a gift, Tanya. Some people have it. Some people don’t.”

“I bet I do,” Tanya says, and Mr. H smiles down at her.

“Perhaps you do,” he says. “But even if you don’t, I don’t ever want you to give up. Understand? You’ve got to keep trying.”

“Oh sure!” Tanya nods eagerly. “I won’t ever give up on this. Ever. Trust me!”

Mr. H’s eyes land just above Tanya’s head, as if he’s still lost in a memory. He takes a long breath in through his nose. “Tanya? May I ask you a question?”

“Sure!”

“What’s got you so interested in time travel anyway?”

It’s Tanya’s turn to remember something melancholy, and her shoulders visibly slump. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she says.

“Ohhh now, why the long face? It isn’t nothing. Why don’t you tell me what the story is? Maybe I could help!”

“You couldn’t help, I’m afraid. But I’ll tell you if you promise not to laugh.”

“Have I laughed yet?”

“Well, no, but this might sound silly.”

Mr. H grins. “Try me.”

“Well,” Tanya says slowly, “I had a friend who… she said she…. I met her and--”

It’s a difficult story to explain, but Mr. H doesn’t press her. He just watches her with the kindest eyes she’s ever seen, waiting patiently for her to get all of her thoughts out.

Tanya sighs, deciding to just get on with it. “A few years ago I had this friend, see. We were best friends, you know? We were un-separable.” Mr. H smiles the way adults do when Tanya uses an incorrect word, but she pays it no mind. “She sort of just… appeared out of nowhere. I always assumed that her family had just moved here but I never got to meet them. And then one day she told me that she was a time traveler from the early 1900s. It checked out, I suppose. There were a lot of things she didn’t know about the world, and she dressed kind of funny. But I didn’t believe her. She kept… kept telling me that she had to leave eventually. She had to go back to her time, but I still didn’t believe her. She even asked me to come with her, but I thought she was just trying to play a dumb trick on me. And then--”

Tanya trails off, and Mr. H raises his eyebrows at her. “And then?” he prompts.

Tanya shrugs. “And then she was gone.”

Mr. H nods his head. “I see.”

“Mr. H, I would give anything to see my friend again. To tell her how much I miss her. That’s why I’ve been doing this. Because if it is real, that means I can find her and tell her I’m sorry for doubting her. I’ve been so worried that this is all for nothing, but now you’re here, and you’ve told me all about that girl you met, and now… well, now I’m sure it’s real. And I’ve just got to find a way.”

Mr. H seems a bit misty eyed, and he clears his throat after he’s certain Tanya has stopped talking. “Well Tanya,” he says. “I believe if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Tanya beams at him. “Really?”

Mr. H makes an X over his heart with his finger before holding his hand up, palm out. “Cross my heart.”

“Gosh,” Tanya breathes.

Mr. H straightens up a bit and his voice goes back to normal when he speaks. “I’m rooting for you, Tanya. But remember what I said.”

“Some people can time travel, some people can’t.”

“That’s right.” Mr. H nods his head. “And even if you find you can’t, I don’t ever want you to stop looking, alright? Don’t ever lose that sense of wonder.”

“Oh I won’t!” Tanya begins enthusiastically taking the books she’d just been reading right back off the shelves, preparing to scour every inch of them for information. “Honest!”

“Excellent to hear.”

Mr. H places his cap back on his head and secures it with a little nod in Tanya’s direction. “Well, I’m off. I’ve got to go home and get dinner started. You be good now, alright?”

“Mr. H?” Tanya looks inquisitively up at him. “Will I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, sweets. I’m not sure.”

“Well I’d like to!” Tanya says. “Maybe one day I’ll figure out this time travelling business and I’ll get to come see you from the future!”

Mr. H smiles. “I’d like that very much, Tanya.”

Tanya beams. “Me too!”

With one more nod of his head, Mr. H bids Tanya farewell. He says a few passing words to Mrs. Hartford and Miss Eileen, and when the bell jingles above the front door, he is gone.

Only a few moments pass until someone speaks.

“Tanya, dear?” Mrs. Hartford calls. “Lovey, what did you two talk about?”

Tanya smiles to herself, pausing before answering the older woman. “Oh nothing,” she says. “He just gave me some recommendations.”

----

8:59am, January 5th, 1925

When Roni wakes, she is alone.

She doesn’t remember Harry leaving, and she’s filled with a brief moment of panic until she notices through sleep encrusted eyes a piece of paper on the pillow beside her.

Roni blinks the sleep out of her eyes and sits up on her elbows, grabbing the note and trying to make out the words written in ink. She smiles the moment she registers them.

My sweetest Honey-

To begin with, I apologize for leaving you without giving you a proper goodbye. In my defense, I did try to wake you. However, you refused to awaken to my kisses, and who was I to disturb you? You look so beautiful when you sleep, by the way.

I’m off to my first day of work at your bookstore, and I am not sure what time I’ll be home this evening. There are some things in the kitchen with which you can make yourself some food. Don’t worry about me, (because I know you will)-- I have packed myself a few items for my lunch break.

I cannot wait to see you again this evening. I’ll be thinking of you every hour on the hour. Have a wonderful day.

Yours,

Harry

Roni doesn’t realize how hard she’s smiling until her cheeks begin to ache. She holds the letter in her hands and takes a deep breath before pulling it into her chest. She feels her heart pounding beneath her hands, and she absolutely cannot believe how strong her feelings for this boy are.

She rolls out of bed and slips into a pair of Harry’s boxers before heading into the living room to fix herself some breakfast. By the looks of the sky outside, it is still fairly early. It’s sunnier than it was the past few days, and Roni takes a moment to admire the city below the window.

It’s almost frightening how comfortable Roni has become with this entire situation. How normal it feels for her to see the world around her in this way. It’s only been a few days and yet she feels like she belongs here now. No longer does she get the same shock down her spine when she realizes what decade it is. She finds herself envious of some of the outfits she sees on the other women, and on more than one occasion she’s found herself slipping into the thought of maybe looking for a job.

Sometimes she even goes so far as to imagine a future with Harry, living out the twenties, thirties, forties with him. She crashes down from that thought every single time with a crushing realization that she doesn’t belong here-- but in the few moments she doesn’t remember, it’s heavenly.

The way that Harry has become so essential to her life frightens her as well. It’s insane for her to think that she’s only just met him within the week and now he’s everything to her. It’s terrifying to imagine her world without him in it, and though she knows she still has a few days left in his presence, she already feels an ache in her heart at the thought of leaving him.

That’s when she gets the grand idea to go visit him at work.

The thought of him among all of her favorite books-- helping customers find their way around and watching with eager eyes as Daisy walks him through the store procedures-- is almost too precious for Roni to fathom. She smiles as she opens the cabinets to find something to make herself a quick breakfast that isn’t going to take long to eat. It’s pathetic how she longs for him, even when he’s only going to be away for a few hours.

Roni fixes herself a piece of toast with jam she’d found in his tiny fridge and hurries to get herself ready for the day.

She may not know her way around 1920s New York very well, but she knows her way to the bookshop by heart-- and it only takes her ten minutes to find her way there.

The familiar sound of the bell jingles above Roni’s head as she enters the bookshop. It seems to be slower than usual today, and as Roni glances around she notices that she is the only customer here. Daisy sits behind the front desk, doodling something on a piece of paper while a lively song emanates from the radio. She looks up when she hears the bell, fully prepared to launch right into her customer service spiel, when she registers who it is.

“Roni!” She beams, setting her pen down and walking out from around the counter. She approaches Roni and embraces her warmly, as if she’s known her for ages, and kisses her cheek. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m doing well!” Roni smiles, Daisy’s infectious positivity rubbing off on her. “How are you?”

“Oh I’m just fine! Working with Harry has been a breeze today. I wasn’t sure how hard it would be to train him, but he’s done absolutely everything right. He is quite the fast learner, did you know that?”

Roni grins. “I did, yeah. Is he here?”

As if on cue, Harry calls from the back corner of the room. “Did someone say my name?”

Daisy giggles and calls back. “You’ve got a visitor, Styles!” She smiles at Roni and nods her head in the direction of Harry’s voice, signaling for Roni to go find him.

Roni doesn’t need to be told twice, and considering she knows her way around this store better than she knows anything else, she makes her way over to the section she knows Harry is in.

When he comes into view, Roni can’t help but to giggle. He’s got his famous little cap on, and there’s a stack of books that’s nearly as tall as he is. He’s holding a book with his finger tucked between the pages to mark his spot, and he looks relieved when he realizes it’s Roni walking towards him.

“Veronica!” He says. “What a surprise!”

He doesn’t let go of the book in his hands, but he walks over to her and envelops her in a hug. He kisses her cheek and gives her a soft squeeze. “How’s my girl?”

Roni’s heart flutters at his terms of endearment. “I’m good,” she says softly into his chest. “How’s work?”

Harry pulls away beaming. “It’s wonderful,” he says. “Daisy is a peach. We haven’t had many customers today so I haven’t gotten to do much work, but I suppose that’s alright for a Monday.”

Roni nods towards the small tower of books. “And what’s all this?”

Now, Harry’s cheeks turn the slightest shade of red. “Research.”

Roni quirks her brow. “Research, huh? For what?”

She takes a step forward to examine the spines on the books, and she gasps at the first one she recognizes-- The Time Machine by H. G. Wells.

“Well,” Harry explains, lowering his voice so that Daisy doesn’t hear. “I know we’ve already determined how to get you back, yeah? And I know that you won’t be able to come back to my timeline… but maybe I’ll be able to come to yours!”

Roni isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or cry at his words, and she opens her mouth to react-- but he doesn’t even give her the chance to get a word out. “And anyway,” he continues, “Violet said that only some people have the gift. You have it, obviously. Who’s to say I don’t have it as well?”

“Harry,” Roni giggles.

“Think about it, if I have the gift, I’ll meet you in the future. I don’t have as much of a connection to this current timeline, so there will be no reason for me to leave you to return to it. It’ll be perfect!”

Roni knows he’s being entirely too optimistic, but the genuine enthusiasm with which he shares his foolproof plan is refreshing. So she giggles, taking his elbows in her hands and pulling him in for another kiss to the cheek. “It’s wonderful,” she says softly, disregarding the slight pang of sadness tugging at her throat.

“What’s wonderful?” Daisy’s voice breaks them from their moment, and both Roni and Harry go red at the interruption.

Daisy stands beside them holding a camera in her hands, and Roni prays that Daisy didn’t hear much of their conversation-- because she’s not sure how she would explain the whole time-traveling business to anyone who isn’t Harry. But luckily, Daisy follows up her question with another question. “The photograph I’m about to take of you two?”

“What?” Harry grows sheepish at the mention of this.

“It’s tradition,” Daisy explains, holding up the camera in her hands as explanation. “It’s your first day. We take photographs of all employees on their first days-- as well as patrons. So Veronica, won’t you be a dear and wiggle in a bit closer to him?”

Daisy raises the camera to her eyes, but Roni stops her almost a bit too urgently. “Wait!” she says.

Daisy lowers the camera, a confused expression on her face. “What’s the matter?”

Roni doesn’t know what she’s expecting to happen, but she does know that in the year she comes from, there aren’t any pictures of her and Harry on the wall. If Daisy takes this picture, it could potentially change everything and shift things to a place that Roni does not want them to go (She isn’t sure that’s the truth, but she doesn’t want to find out the hard way).

“It’s just that--” Roni trails off while Harry and Daisy both eye her expectantly. She lets out a breath and tries again. “Well I… I wasn’t prepared to get my picture taken today. Look at my outfit. I don’t look good enough.”

“Oh nonsense,” Daisy says with a brush of her hand. “Veronica, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, regardless of how much effort you put into getting ready this morning. Tell her, Harry.”

Harry, beginning to catch on, glances nervously between Roni and Daisy. “Well,” he starts slowly, “While you are correct that Veronica is an absolute vision regardless of her attire, I should inform you that… that--” Harry looks back at Roni as if to ask for some guidance. The truth is that neither of them know how to explain this situation, and Harry despairs when he is met with the same panicked expression on Roni’s face.

“Well,” he says again, turning back to Daisy. “You see, if I allow you to take that photograph, I’ll never hear the end of it from this one.”

Roni laughs, instantly falling into stride with Harry’s narrative. “Absolutely right. I’ll let him have it as soon as we’re home.”

Daisy scoffs. “Oh pooh,” she says, but then smiles mischievously at Roni. “Although I do understand, I suppose. Larry tries to take photographs of me all the time and it drives me absolutely mental.”

Roni and Harry giggle awkwardly, happy that Daisy seems to have bought their story, as Roni shuffles out of view of the camera and over to where Daisy stands.

Harry looks out of place without Roni by his side, and he awkwardly shoves a hand into his pocket. “What do you want me to do?” he asks.

“Just smile, dear!” Daisy raises the camera to her eyes as Harry flashes her a dimpled grin.

With the flash of the camera, Roni experiences the strangest feeling she’s ever felt in her life. She’s seen this picture before-- in black and white, with yellowing and folding corners. It hangs on the back wall of the shop, and it has watched over her daily ever since she started working here.

She feels almost faint, and there’s a ringing in her ears after the picture is taken. Harry and Daisy chat idly while Roni remains in a flashback. She tries to remember the date scribbled in messy ink at the bottom of the photograph. Was it 1925? She doesn’t think so, but how would that make sense?

Harry’s giggle brings Roni out of her thoughts, and she turns to rejoin the conversation in time to hear Daisy say “I’ll get this developed as soon as possible, and I’ll let you pick the spot we put it in!”

“That’s terrific!” Harry says, turning to beam at Roni. “Veronica, isn’t that swell?”

“It is swell!” Roni giggles around the word that feels so foreign in her mouth.

Harry shoots Roni a knowing look. His smile says so much without saying anything at all. Roni has changed his life for the better and they both know this. Wordlessly, he reaches for her hand. She interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“He’s been drawn to this section all day,” Daisy explains, gesturing towards the pile of books. “Don’t know why.”

“He’s very interested in science,” Roni says with a giggle. “No one’s ever been able to figure out why. He’s a bit of a weird one.”

“Heyyy,” Harry whines, long and drawn out with a fake hurt face shot in Roni’s direction. He hip checks her lightly, and Daisy doesn’t notice.

Roni stays at the shop for the next hour or so, just talking and laughing with Harry and Daisy until she’s completely lost track of time. Only a few customers enter the shop in the time span that Roni is there, and she watches on with a warm heart as Harry greets them. He’s a natural at this-- because of course he is-- and there are only a few times when he has to ask Daisy for assistance.

What Roni would give to have him as her coworker here in the future.

It’s nearing lunch time when Roni finally decides it’s time for her to head back to the apartment. She heads for the door, the sound of the radio still filling the quiet shop. She’s about to bid farewell to Daisy over the sound of the radio still blasting loudly, when she feels Harry grab her wrist from behind and tug her into a corner.

Roni doesn’t even have time to make a noise before she feels his lips against her own.

She smiles against his mouth and immediately melts into his arms as they wrap around her back.

“Harry,” she giggles breathlessly. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing my honey,” Harry replies, his voice low and a sleepy grin draped lazily across his face. “Is that okay?”

He goes in for another secret kiss and Roni laughs again. It feels so good to kiss him, to be held like this and adored in a way she’d never thought possible. She smiles into the kiss, pulling away just enough to get out the words, “You can kiss me any time you’d like.”

Harry chuckles softly, lips ghosting along her jawline. “I like the sound of that.”

“But do you really want to do it in public?”

“Who’s watching?” Harry says, nodding his head towards the completely empty shop.

“Fair,” Roni says the, enjoying the feeling of Harry’s lips against her skin. “But still, this isn’t like you.”

Harry pulls away, smirking down at her as if he already knows the answer to the question he’s about to ask. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Roni whispers. She reaches up to tangle her fingers in his curls and tugs his head softly back to hers so that she can kiss him again. “Of course I don’t.”

“I didn’t think so.” He kisses her cheek, then down along her jawbone before landing in the spot in the direct center of her neck.

“Want to touch you,” he whispers. “Can I?”

“Here?” Roni’s whisper is almost too loud, and Harry lifts his head to glance nervously around them before smiling a lazy smile back at her.

“Yes,” he says.

Roni’s stomach twists at his words-- an all too familiar fire burning in the base of her belly. She wants nothing more than for Harry to touch her right now, but at the same time-- she doesn’t want to cost him his job. “Can you?”

Harry grins. “Come with me.”

He holds on to her hand as he leads her to another far corner of the shop, adjacent to the one he’d been in earlier. He pushes her almost too harshly against the bookcase, and they both pause cautiously at the slight thud of Roni’s back against the solid frame. When Daisy says nothing from her spot at the front desk, Harry launches right back into whatever it is he has planned.

He allows his hands to wander Roni’s body; every curve and edge and angle that he’s fallen so intensely for over the past couple of days. Roni smiles and allows her head to fall back against the bookshelf in pleasure as Harry kisses down her neck and collarbone; although she is acutely aware of just how loud-- or how quiet-- she and Harry are being. When Harry’s hand slips under her skirt and brushes the tender skin of her thigh, she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Tell me if this is too much,” Harry whispers, fingertips ghosting against the fabric of her panties.

Roni’s eyes flutter sleepily as she glances around, making sure she and Harry don’t have any unexpected visitors watching them. “It’s not,” she breathes before kissing his lips deeply and eagerly. “Just be quiet.”

Harry smirks. “You’re one to talk,” he mumbles.

Roni doesn’t even have time to respond to him before he’s slipped his fingers in through the side of her panties and is rubbing them against her clit. She wants to sigh in immediate pleasure but, for fear of being suspicious, she ends up just burying her face in Harry’s neck to keep quiet instead.

“There’s a good girl,” Harry coos quietly, glancing nonchalantly around him. “You’re going to keep quiet, aren’t you?”

“Do I have a choice?” Roni hisses into the skin of his shoulder, and Harry laughs.

The part of Roni’s brain that isn’t currently being consumed by white hot arousal and attraction to Harry is telling her to be more careful. Daisy-- or worse, a customer-- could find them at any moment, and the look on Harry’s face is as nonchalant as possible. He’s so beautiful, damn him, and when his fingers tease at her entrance, Roni is nothing but putty in his hands.

Harry’s fingers find their way up inside of her as he kisses her lips, and she practically goes limp when they caress the spongy spot deep inside of her. He steps closer to keep her body upright as he works his fingers against her, pressing the softest kisses to her lips and her neck.

“Harry?” Daisy suddenly calls from the front of the shop.

Roni tenses up, but Harry doesn’t stop the gentle curling and uncurling of his fingers against the spongy spot inside of her as he calls back. “Yes ma’am?”

“Did you happen to catch the name of the woman who sold us the gardening book earlier? She didn’t fill out the form correctly and I can’t read her writing.”

Harry’s thumb presses against Roni’s clit and she lurches forward, sinking her teeth into his shoulder in an attempt to keep quiet. He keeps his voice as even as possible. “Was that Geraldine?”

“No dear, Geraldine was the one who called about the book club. This was a different woman.”

“Harry--�� Roni whispers just on the brink of a moan, and Harry kisses her briskly to quiet the sound.

“Uh,” he says, pulling away but never once relenting his fingers. “Are you talking about Edna?”

“Edna!” Daisy says, snapping her fingers. “That was the one. Edna Wells was it?”

“Wells,” Harry practically chokes out while Roni sucks on his neck. “That was it.”

“Thank you, hon.”

Harry doesn’t answer her. He instead presses kisses in rapid succession down Roni’s neck before his tongue laps softly at her collarbone. Roni’s breath hitches, and she can’t stop the pathetic half-whimpers that drip from her lips. Luckily for her, there is a particularly loud song on the radio that drowns her out.

“Sound so pretty when you’re whining,” Harry mutters, lips caressing the outside of her ear. “Think you can keep quiet when you cum?”

“I--” Roni breathes. “I think so.”

“Do you want to cum?”

Roni jolts again when his thumb hits her clilt from a particularily good angle. God, he remembers everything.

“I do,” Roni whispers. “But you’d better be careful.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Harry says, biting at her earlobe.

Truth be told, they both know they aren’t going to get caught. Still, there is the familiar excitement of the what-if that pushes them further into their actions, and when Roni hooks her leg around the back of Harry’s to pull him impossibly closer to her, he knows he’s done for.

He picks up the pace with his fingers and bites at her neck-- not quite harsh enough to leave a hickey but just enough that the spot will be sore for the next few hours.

Good, Harry thinks. He wants her to think only of him until he gets home.

Harry knows shes cumming moments later when she thrusts against his fingers-- and he does his best to keep her from jolting against the bookcase by holding her upright with his free hand. He messily kisses up and down her neck, careful not to leave a mark but still wanting to make an impact, and when she begins to teeter on a bit noisy-- he kisses her with such fury that he’s not sure he’s ever kissed someone with before. And as she cums on his fingers, it absolutely fascinates him just how beautiful he finds this entire process.

Harry has never considered himself a selfish lover by any means, but this is something he isn’t entirely used to. With Roni, everything feels different. If he could make her cum like this for the rest of her life with absolutely nothing in return, he wouldn’t care at all. He’d be thankful for the opportunity, in fact, and as he feels her walls pulse around his fingers he grows so overwhelmed with how strongly he feels for her that he has to close his eyes to prevent fromtearing up.

When all is said and done, Harry pulls his fingers from between her legs and licks them clean, keeping his eyes trained on her the entire time. He watches as she flutters back to earth, and he keeps his free hand on her body in order to keep her as upright as he possibly can. He offers her a friendly grin.

“Alright, then?”

Roni blinks sleepily back at him, a confused look spreading across her face. “How do you do that?”

Harry chuckles. “Do what?”

“Make me cum like that. Every time. I swear like, you’re not real. How are you so good?”

It’s because I love you, Harry thinks. But he doesn’t dare say it out loud.

Instead, he shrugs. “Magic, I suppose.”

Roni rolls her eyes and pushes his shoulder playfully. “God, you’re an idiot,” she says, shaking her head at him. Despite her words, she’s looking at him like she’s the luckiest woman in the world-- and that alone is enough to send Harry over the moon.

“Right,” he says with a nod of his head. “Well, I don’t want to keep you here any longer than you’ve intended to stay.”

Roni smirks. “No,” she says. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Harry wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and breathes heavily when he speaks; pausing when he notes that he can still smell her juices on his fingers. Christ.

“So I’ll see you at home then?”

Roni licks her lips and nods her head back at him, trying to catch her breath as much as he is.

“Yes,” Roni says slowly, “I’ll see you there, lover boy.”

----

The day feels longer in Harry’s absence, and Roni spends the seemingly endless hours tidying up the apartment. She dusts the windows and sweeps the kitchen floor. She cleans the bedroom, remakes the bed, and lights a vanilla candle just to make the place smell fresh.

Around four o’clock, Roni is hit with the crushing realization that she’s done everything possible. She needs to just face it, the 1920s are fucking boring.

At home, she’d be able to at least turn on the television and lounge comfortably on the couch-- possibly doze off a bit to waste some of the hours. But here, the television won’t even be invented for another two years or so. And besides, she isn’t sleepy enough for a nap.

Harry doesn’t even own a radio, and Roni is positive that if she even tried to work the phonograph she’d break it.

At some point she decides that she has no choice but to snoop around for something interesting to do, although she’d hardly call it snooping considering how tiny the place is. She doesn’t find anything interesting; no skeletons in Harry’s closet, no letters from lovers past, but she does find a one thousand piece puzzle in a dusty box in the coat closet.

And fuck it, she thinks, that’s better than nothing.

So she settles herself on the floor, flat on her tummy, and scatters the puzzle pieces along the carpet, preparing to spend the next few hours bored out of her wits.

That is how Harry finds her, nearly forty-five minutes later. She seems surprisingly into the puzzle when he enters the apartment, and she hardly glances up to offer him a warm smile. “Hi, handsome!” she says.

“Well, hello there!” Harry removes his cap and runs a hand through his tousled curls. “I see you’ve kept yourself entertained.” He stops, sniffing the air a few times before smiling peasantly. “Smells great in here.”

“Thank you! I lit one of your weird sacrificial candles.”

Harry snorts. “Oh, excellent.”

He makes his way further into the room and smiles at the sight of his darling Roni-- sprawled out ungracefully on the floor, hair slung messily over one of her shoulders and a few chunks of the puzzle solved. She’s a vision, as always, and he resists the urge to smother her in kisses.

“How was the rest of work?” Roni asks, trying to fit a particular puzzle piece into another one that doesn’t fit it.

“Oh, it was fine.” Harry sits on the couch. “We got a bit of a strange rush around two, but nothing I couldn’t handle, you know.”

“That’s good! And Daisy was nice to you?”

“Everyone was nice to me. Have you met me? It’s hard not to be.”

Roni rolls her eyes. “Until you say stuff like that.”

Harry chuckles, ignoring her playful jab. “I do have some exciting news though.”

Now Roni does look up at him with wide eyes. “Yeah?

“Yeah.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small wad of cash that makes Roni gasp.

“What is that?!”

Harry smiles. “Daisy informed me that all training is paid. Did you know that?”

“Harry, that’s amazing!” Roni sits up, reaching forward to put her hand on his knee.

He giggles, loving her enthusiasm. “I figured we could get something nice for dinner tomorrow. I was going to go to the market on my way home today, but I wanted to ask you first.”

Roni shakes her head. “You don’t have to ask me for anything, silly, it’s your money!”

“I know that, but--” Harry’s cheeks go the softest shade of pink. “You live here, too, you know? I want you to be happy. I want to make all of my decisions with you.”

Roni doesn’t say anything, but his words do strike a chord in her heart. She scans his face, allowing herself just a brief moment of imagining that she’s going to live here with him for the rest of her life.

God, how she wants that.

It’s as if Harry can read her mind, because he reaches down to take her hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze.

“Anyway,” he says, rising to his feet and swiftly changing the subject. “I’m going to take a shower if you care to join me.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Roni, causing her to giggle.

“I don’t know,” she hums, “You smell kind of bad. Not sure I could stand to be that close to you.”

Harry gasps, taking a pillow from the couch and tossing it at her. “How terribly rude of you. I revoke my invitation.”

He makes his way towards the bathroom with an upturned nose in mock offense, and Roni giggles. She scrambles to her feet and scurries after him. “Wait, no!” she says. “I want to join you!”

“It’s too late!” Harry says, a smile teasing at his lips. “I revoked my invitation, you are no longer invited.”

“What if I get to the shower first?” Roni asks. “Then it’s you who’s invading my shower, isn’t it?”

Harry laughs. “Veronica--”

She doesn’t even wait to hear what he says before she’s off and running towards the bathroom. Harry is right on her heels, of course, pinching her sides and laughing his hearty belly laugh that Roni has fallen so hard for.

Once in the bathroom, they undress one another haphazardly and stumble into the shower together, kissing and giggling as if they’ve been doing this all their lives. It’s casual and playful and comfortable, and Harry feels a pang in his heart when, during a particularly giggly kiss, he remembers that he won’t get to do this with her forever.

Roni continues kissing down his neck as the hot water hits them both, but she seems to notice that Harry’s mind is elsewhere because she stops. “Hey,” she says softly, blinking up at him through the water. She reaches up to cup his cheek, stroking lovingly at his cheekbone with her thumb. “Where’s your head at right now?”

Harry looks down at her and sighs. She looks so beautiful like this, naked and wet and smiling. He wants to remember her this way always, and he takes a mental photograph before he gives her a cheeky grin.

“Just thinking about how awful you smell.”

---

Several hours later, after a long shower and a delicious but very small dinner, Harry finds himself lying on his belly beside Roni, helping her with the puzzle she’d started earlier. They’ve made terrific progress, and although a few hundred pieces still remain scattered on the floor around them, the entire puzzle is starting to come together quite nicely.

It’s a very casual night, and they chat idly as they work. Roni tells a few more stories about her mother, and Harry talks about his life in London. It’s easy, and it’s fun, but Harry’s mind is wandering.

Roni can tell that there’s something on Harry’s mind, but she doesn’t bother bringing it up because she already knows what it is. It’s on her mind, too.

With every passing day, they get closer to her leaving to go back home-- and the uncertainty of whether or not they’ll ever see one another again in this lifetime.

It’s nearing ten when Harry decides he can’t obsess about this any longer. So he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and speaks.

“Veronica?”

“Mm?”

“I have to ask you something.”

The way Harry says it catches Roni’s attention, and she knows this is important. So she looks at him with a grin. “What’s up?”

Harry hesitates, knowing he shouldn’t do what he’s about to do. Roni senses his tension, and something tells her she isn’t going to like the conversation they’re about to have.

“Why don’t you…” Harry trails off in a puff of air, shaking his head and trying again. “I mean, would it be so bad if… if you stayed here with me?”

Roni feels her heart sink as she absorbs what it is he’s saying. Somehow she’d known it was coming, but she was still hoping he wouldn’t go there.

She opens her mouth, then closes it. She gulps, licks her lips, shakes her head, and nervously twists the ring on her finger before finally settling on her reply. “Harry,” she says slowly. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Harry sits up, launching into a spiel that he has clearly given thought to. “Would it be so awful?” He shakes his head. “Darling, I don’t want to wake up in a world that… that you aren’t in yet. I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering how or—or if I’m ever going to find you again.”

He strokes at her face tenderly, allowing her a moment to think about what he’s saying. His face is so soft that she almost cannot bear to look at it. She closes her eyes, leaning into his soft touch when he speaks again quietly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Harry--” she whispers.

“Stay with me,” he says quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Veronica. Stay here. With me. I’ve known you for such a short amount of time and yet I cannot imagine my life without you in it. Not now.”

Roni tries her best to keep her breathing under control as she sits up now as well. “Harry,” she tries again, but her voice is hardly audible over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. “I wish I could.”

“Why can’t you?! You could live here, in this place. With me. We could save up. Build a life--”

“I have a life,” Roni says through a voice crack. Through her misty eyes, she sees Harry deflating. “In 1999, where I belong. That is my timeline, Harry. We’ve talked about this. I can’t just give that up and stay in a time fifty years before I even exist. I have a life. I have friends, I have a job, I have a family, I have--”

“A boyfriend?” It isn’t a question. Harry suddenly sounds bitter, and it takes Roni by surprise.

Roni shakes her head, immediately hurt. “Don’t do that to me. That’s not fair.”

“Is it not?” Harry asks challengingly.

Roni tries to regain her balance after the sudden 180 of their conversation. She reaches up in a feeble attempt to prevent a tear from rolling down her cheek. “I don’t--”

“I’ll tell you what isn’t fair,” Harry states. He gestures outwardly with his hands. “You. And this whole thing. What was the reason for any of this if it’s only temporary?”

Roni swallows the lump in her throat. “So all of this… is nothing but temporary to you? You think you’re owed this? You can’t just accept it for what it is?”

“Of course it’s not nothing, Veronica. That’s the whole bloody point.”

“So you’re just going to throw a fit until it’s all over because it’s not ‘fair’ then?!”

Harry reaches up to run a hand through his hair, exasperated. “And you? You’re just going to go back to your boyfriend in the future and forget about me? Sweep me under the rug and pretend I never existed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Veronica, I just thought that--” Harry trails off in a scoff. “I don’t know. I just hoped you might see it the way I do.” Harry rises to his feet, and it’s intimidating the way he looms over her. He turns like he’s going to head into the bedroom, and Roni takes that as her cue to stand up as well.

He doesn’t get to walk away like this. Not when he’s already hurt Roni’s feelings so deeply.

It’s useless for her to even try to cover up her tears at this point. “It not that simple, Harry, fuck!”

“It could be though.” He whirls back to face her and he sounds almost pleading as he takes a step in her direction. “Listen, I can’t--”

“You have to.” Roni tries her hardest to make her voice sound firm, but it cracks the minute she opens her mouth. She takes a shaky breath in an attempt to control her emotions and tries again. “Harry, you have to. I’m not staying here.”

“Would it be so bad if you did?”

“Yes! It would be bad! Not because I don’t want to but because this isn’t right. It’s not natural. I mean, shit, you heard Violet! You know I can’t stay here.”

“Because you’re scared of finally feeling something real for once?”

Roni scoffs. “Are you kidding me? Harry, do you hear yourself right now? Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t understand why you won’t at least think about it.”

“And I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up right now! When we only have so many nights left together, this is what you do?”

“That’s the point, Veronica! We do only have so much time left. But we could have more, and I don’t see the harm in--”

“That’s not the point!” Roni’s voice matches his in intensity. “You know that’s not the point! There are so many factors back home resting on me making it back. You think people aren’t going to notice? What do you think my friends are going to do if I never come back?”

“But what about me?” Harry asks defiantly. “What do you think I’m going to do without you?”

Roni is shaking as she speaks. “I didn’t come here for you, Harry. None of this was ever for you, or about you. This was all for my mom. This was for me. You just ended up in the crossfire.”

The intensity of her words hangs thick in the air, and Roni wishes she could take them back as soon as they exit her lips.

Roni and Harry stare one another down, and Roni feels out of breath suddenly-- as if she’s just run a mile. Her bottom lip trembles pathetically.

Harry’s expression is completely unreadable, and the visible rise and fall of his chest intimidates Roni. His nostrils flare, and she watches with bated breath-- waiting for him to say something.

When Harry doesn’t respond, Roni speaks again-- softer this time. “Look, I didn’t mean--”

“I know what you meant.” Harry’s voice is steady and even, and it scares Roni.

Roni wants to take a step forward. She wants to wrap him up in her arms and kiss him. At the same time, she wants him to do something-- anything other than just stare blankly at her. He is cold and unmoving, and Roni doesn’t dare make a sound.

Her nose feels stuffy now, and she sniffs pitifully in an attempt to clear it. “I don’t want to leave you,” she says finally. “But I don’t have a choice.”

Despite his unwavering face of stone, Harry’s eyes seem so on the brink of tears that Roni can’t stop herself from reaching for him. He takes a subtle step back, eyeing her fingers and then allowing himself to look at her face again. “You’re right,” he says, voice weak and wobbly.

“Harry,” she breathes, “Please understand--”

“I do,” he says, nodding. “I do understand.”

There’s a tense and claustrophobic feeling between them that seems to last for decades. Harry’s eyes fall to the floor, and he chews on the inside of his cheek. Roni can’t help it and chokes out a wimpy little sob, reaching up to wipe at the tears now free falling down her face. What she really wants is for Harry to hold her. To kiss her tears away and make her laugh with a stupid joke. She wants to feel alright again.

Finally, when the silence is so thick Roni doesn’t even feel like she’s in the same room anymore, she takes a deep breath. “I’m going to bed,” she says as coolly as she can muster. “And I… want you to join me. I hope you will.”

Roni turns on her heel and wipes at her tear soaked face as she makes her way into the bedroom. She nudges the door behind her but doesn’t close it fully, hoping that Harry will follow her.

Her feet feel cemented to the floor, and before even attempting to move further into the dark room Roni buries her face in her hands-- finally allowing herself to fully cry now.

She knows Harry can hear her, and she doesn’t care. Her heart hurts, and her head hurts, and all she wants right now is to go to sleep cuddled up to the one person who both wants her and doesn’t want anything to do with her. It’s one of the worst feelings Roni’s had since she got here.

She finds herself curled up in bed nearly ten minutes later, with a face that’s sticky from leftover tears and a nose that’s almost completely stopped up. She stares soberly at the window, choking on the overwhelming amount of thoughts swimming around in the fog of her brain.

Harry had been right about one thing: not one bit of this is fair.

Her eyes feel puffy and they beg her to close them, but her thoughts continue to race and keep her frozen, staring at the window and willing all of this to go away. She prays that she’ll wake up back home, in her own bed, with all of this just a distant memory and an alcohol induced bad dream. But the thought of Harry not existing-- the thought of losing this incredible feeling of love in every sense of the word-- breaks her heart even more. She lets out a small, pathetic cry.

Roni is startled when, moments later, she hears the familiar creak of the bedroom door opening. She doesn’t turn to meet his gaze, but his presence in the room both softens her heart and tenses her body. She reaches up to wipe at her still running nose and waits anxiously for him to say something.

“You know,” he says slowly. “I’ve always believed the policy that you should never go to bed angry.”

Roni sniffs again, waiting as she hears his footsteps get closer and closer. The bed creaks beneath his weight as he settles himself down onto it, crawling slowly until he’s nuzzled softly between the wall and Roni.

With uncertain movements, he wraps an arm around her from behind. He’s unsure if she wants anything to do with him, but he visibly relaxes when he feels her take his hand.

Harry kisses the back of her neck and she feels some of her tension melt away instantly. With his lips ghosting just above her skin, he speaks. “I’m so sorry.”

Roni doesn’t speak, she just stares blankly at the wall ahead of her-- thankful to at least have him this close to her. He presses his lips to her skin but doesn’t kiss, he just allows them to rest there for a moment before he speaks again.

“You... are the first happiness I’ve felt in years,” he whispers. “You are, undoubtedly, the best thing that has ever happened to me.” His fingertips trail up her arm with uncertainty. “I’m not ready to let it go just yet. But I know I have no choice.”

Finally, Roni turns slowly onto her back. In the dimly lit room she can hardly make out any of his features, and she reaches an unsteady hand up to stroke tenderly at his face.

“I hate this as much as you do,” she whispers, voice scratchy and thick.

He leans down to kiss her lips gently, just a soft but meaningful peck. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“Neither did I.” Roni sits up on her elbows. Even through the darkness of the room, she looks earnestly at Harry-- trying to convey even a fraction of what she feels for him. “I’m sorry, too. This is confusing and horrible. We got dealt some of the worst cards anyone could get, and it sucks. It sucks ass.”

Harry snorts at her bluntness, nudging her nose with his own before pecking her lips gently. “It does suck ass,” he says, and Roni laughs at how strange those words sound coming out of his mouth.

Roni’s already swollen eyes grow foggy once again and she wills herself not to cry by closing them. She pushes her forehead against Harry’s and holds his face. “I’m going to miss you every day of my life,” she whispers. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

Harry kisses her once, twice, three times, and she can feel his own eyelashes flutter against her skin. “You don’t have to yet,” he says. “We still have time.”

Roni’s heart thumps in her chest, and there’s a ringing in her ears as the words she’s been dying to say come creeping up her throat. They rest heavily on the tip of her tongue, and she kisses him in an attempt to push them away. But there they are, heavy and demanding to be said.

“Harry?” she says softly.

“Yes, honey?”

She swallows the nausea in her throat.

“I love you.”

Harry doesn’t move, and they both sit with foreheads pressed together as they allow her words to sink in.

After a moment, Roni blinks the fog out of her eyes and speaks again. “You don’t have to say it back,” she says quietly. “I just thought you should know.”

She settles down against the pillows, fully prepared for Harry to not say anything back. She lets out a breath of finality, happy that the words are no longer pressing against her ribcage, and although she can still feel Harry’s eyes practically burning a hole into her face, she keeps her eyes glued shut.

It’s been a long day, she’s been through a lot, and now with Harry beside her and the air between them cleared, she feels she could fall asleep at any moment. She doesn’t regret saying those words to him at all, but they do make her nervous. After all, they’ve known each other such a short while. What if he thinks she’s crazy?

“Veronica?”

Her heart stops when she hears her name. She doesn’t answer him verbally, but she does peek one eye open to inform him that she’s listening.

Roni can just barely make out the soft smile on his face when he replies with a trembling voice. “I love you, too.”

#Harry Styles #Harry #One Direction #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #One Direction fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry AU #One Direction AU #AU #harry styles fluff #Harry fluff #One Direction fluff #fluff #Harry styles smut #Harry smut #one direction smut #smut

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mousedetective · 5 years

Text

So goes the plans of mice and me...

Moving Saga Tag | PayPal | Ko-Fi | Amazon Wishlist

Updates Through 8/4/19

Long long looooooong story as short as I can make it (like literally, the moving saga tag is the best start for how long this story is...not totally current but I don’t tag all my help posts with that tag) I am a queer, disabled woman (fibro, psoriatic arthritis, degenerative back disorder, chronic fatigue, bipolar disorder) who has been homeless for 20 months come August 3rd. I am currently waiting to see if an application I put in to the County of San Diego via Alpha Project for Section 8 housing will be approved; I have no idea how long it will take, but it’s already been about a month now.

I have a 16-year-old son who I had to relinquish my legal rights and physical custody of after trying for twelve years to get him back. I had thought his adoptive mom L was a good person and would take care of him as much as she did her own children; in the two years since the adoption has been finalized, that is blatently not the case. He’s suffering from emotional neglect at the very least, but my hands are currently tied because I have no legal visitation rights (California does not have open adoption) and if he gets taken out of her home I may not see him again for a year or so until he graduates high school and ages out of the system (and that’s if he’s kept at the special school he goes to).

So in June, I had my son for a ten day visit at a hotel. He was sent with no clothes other than what he had worn to his awards ceremony earlier that day, his medication and his electronic tablet and headphones. I spent nearly $1000 on the hotel room, food, new clothing...it put my family almost $700 in debt for the month of July. I was then told by L via my son that until I got permanent housing, no more visits.

Then last week, my son says L wanted us to take him the entire month of August, a feat that would have gone well over $3,000 in hotel costs alone. It later became this upcoming weekend (the 2nd, 3rd and 4th of August) and an undetermined visit later in the month for a longer period in time. I still have no idea when this second visit is taking place or how long it will be, so I can’t pay any of my bills for fear I won’t have enough for a hotel room aside from maybe the two storage units we use most.

Last week as well, my mother (who is also disabled - back problems, bipolar, diabetes and has had a heart attack and breast cancer) got an infected wound in her leg which has only gotten worse. She finally got to see a doctor today and was told she needs to be off her feet, doing hot compresses to get the wound to drain and beginning antibiotics. She gets fever/chills or it doesn’t drain, we have to head to the ER because there could be life-threatening complications with her diabetes.

I’ve asked for a lot of help and graciously, I’ve gotten it. But right now I’m pulling my hair out because I need to get my mom in a hotel room for longer than this weekend, I need to save as much as I can to take my son later in the month so I can keep visitation (L gets nasty when I have to refuse a visit by threatening for us not to see him, as she did earlier this July), I need to pay $521 for three storage units with all our belongings, I need gas to go get my son and I have no earthly idea how much of my disability and my mother’s disability we’re getting on the 1st since the 3rd is on a weekend. I honestly don’t even know if we’ll have enough between us to cover the weekend hotel booking at $442.

I don’t know what to do. I need to take care of my mom, I need to get my son in a loving environment as much as I can while he’s on break this month from school, I need to feed all of us (and I’m not joking when I call my son a human garbage disposal...he’s nearly six feet tall and so skinny you can see his joints, but he eats like he has a black hole for a stomach) especially since my son is not getting breakfast and lunch at school this month. I’m at the end of my rope at this point and utterly exhausted from insomnia and pain and trying to finish a massive project I took on with near-daily deadlines.

As I said way at the top, we’re in line to receive section 8 housing we hope, and help filling in gaps from our twenty months of homelessness plus whatever else we have to go through before we get approved. We’re in a van and it’s killing me to climb in and out of the back with my arthritic limbs and the fibro hurting my muscles. I have a cane and a walker crammed in there and it’s such a tight fit. Any help getting a hotel for a while would be a start; after that, food and help paying the bills. I may be able to pay people back in installments once I know when I’m supposed to have my son for his second visit so I can get the reservation and have a finite amount of days to pay for.

Please help. Please reblog if you can’t. This has been one of the most stressful months of my life and while I thought August might be better it’s already off to a bad start and I just want to cry.

#signal boost #urgent #donate #please donate #please reblog #please help #moving saga

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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792

Who was the last person you had an intelligent debate with?: I don’t really have debates with anyone other than Gab or Angela. I’ll have deep discussions with my other friends, but they never turn into a debate.

Who was the last person who cooked something for you?: My dad. Technically he just reheated stuff tonight, but he was still also the one who cooked for us this morning for breakfast.

Who was the last person who you heard singing?: My mom. She does karaoke by herself one or two times a week for funsies and will sing songs from her day for an hour or so, and she did it tonight.

Who was the last person you kissed and it meant something?: Gabie, but it’s been a whilllllle.

Who was the last person you were upset with?: This girl that I’m classmates with for a layout class, Mikee. Horrible work ethic. So just for context, I currently have a grade of INC (Incomplete) for the layout class I took last semester because my prof wasn’t satisfied with our final output, which are a class magazine and a class newspaper; and when you have an INC, you typically have a year to fulfill the missing requirement/s (except in our case, we only have half a year because we have graduating students in the class, including me). Now that we’re inching closer to graduation and the college is supposed to release the official list of graduating students soon, I have to make sure ALL my grades are in. Mikee volunteered to be the one to contact our prof for submitting our work, and even though we’ve finished up and polished our revised outputs, she is taking FOREVER to email the prof for whatever fucking reason. I’m getting antsy by the hour and am desperate for a bit of urgency on her end because if my name doesn’t end up on the list of graduates I definitely wouldn’t hesitate to lash out on her.

Who was the last person you danced with?: Angela, Gabie, and Hans. And some other ADMU dudes I’ve never hung out with other than at that party.

Who was the last person you felt awkward around?: My dad. He made pancakes from scratch earlier and I think his measurements weren’t 100% spot on, because they came out incredibly dense and bland. I was already cranky enough this morning – and I still hadn’t known he made them himself – so I scowled when I took my first few bites because I thought it tasted off and even asked if it was some kind of vegetarian pancake. Once he said he made it from scratch, I felt awkward, shut up, and wolfed my plate down to show him that I enjoyed it and to make up for my horrid behavior just seconds before.

Who was the last person who borrowed something from you?: My mom borrowed my car (which is technically my parents’ anyway because they bought it lmao) to go to work today.

Who was the last person who showed you how to do something?: My dad. I wanted to get reacquainted with making stuff in the kitchen so he showed me how to cook hotdogs properly. I was already making them before, but after one time that one of our stove burners emitted a huge flame when I turned it on, I stopped making any food altogether for a while.

Who was the last person you went shopping with?: My mom.

Who was the last person you had a crush on?: Song Joong Ki hahaaaaaaah.

Who was the last person who made you cry?: The amazing actor from Descendants of the Sun playing the troubled rookie doctor. I looked him up and apparently he’s also one of the lead vocalists of SHINee, so he must be talented as all hell.

Who was the last person you shared a bed with?: Kimi, 45 seconds before he jumped off.

Who was the last person you got drunk with?: Angela, Hans, Gabie, Aids...I don’t remember the others anymore but they were cool and funny people. Idk, we were a big group so yeah.

Who was the last person who touched your hair?: Just me.

What was the last pair of shoes you wore?: A pair of Nikes to walk my dog.

What was the last birthday party you attended?: My cousin’s, aunt’s, and grandma’s. Their birthdays all fall on the same week in December, so it’s tradition for us to go over to my aunt’s to celebrate.

What was the last thing you said to your mother?: Something about thesis. I was telling her that I included her and dad and my four grandparents in my acknowledgments.

What was the last song you listened to?: I was listening to Beyoncé’s Homecoming a few hours ago but I’m too lazy to check what song was it I paused.

What was the last thing you thought about before going to sleep last night?: I wasn’t thinking of anything, I was just focused on falling asleep.

What was the last fun thing you did with your family?: Video-calling other relatives.

What was the last thing you borrowed from someone?: My dad’s earphones...and I’ve kept them for the meantime too lol thanks dad.

What was the last vegetable you ate?: String beans.

What was the last thing you bought online?: A Hydro Flask and several necklaces.

What was the last thing you had to drink?: I don’t *have* to drink it but I did make myself a cup of coffee tonight.

What was the last reason you went to see a doctor?: Had to get my eye checked. Sucks that I couldn’t and can’t have a follow-up appointment especially since my left eye still acts up from time to time.

What was the last non-food item you purchased?: Soju lmaaaaaooo.

What was the last type of yogurt you ate?: I hate yogurt.

What was the last fast food place you ate at?: Jollibee. We didn’t eat inside though, we just got the food delivered to our home. I think the last fast food place I was actually inside of was McDonald’s.

What was the last thing that bothered you and kept you awake?: I haven’t been bothered by anything in a while. Caffeine is the only thing keeping me up these days.

When was the last time you embarrassed yourself? I had sort of a Eureka moment earlier tonight when I suddenly recalled my paternal grandparents’ whole names. I had opted to use their nicknames in my acknowledgments and didn’t think anything of it, but then I remembered what their actual full first names were and then felt embarrassed within myself that I submitted a final draft with their nicknames. HAHAHA it’s a good things are less chill with the lockdown in place so I was able to explain and resubmit with the necessary revisions.

When was the last time you watched a movie with someone?: January-ish. I watched Hello Love Goodbye with Gabie.

When was the last time you charged your phone?: A few hours ago.

When was the last time you were sick with a cold?: It’s been...a while. I rarely get sick with anything so I don’t get to keep track of whenever I do.

When was the last time you spoke to a family member on the phone?: My birthday when my lola called.

When was the last time it rained where you live?: A couple of days ago, I think.

When was the last time you laid awake, unable to sleep?: This afternoon. I wanted to sleep the heat off, but it was just so uncomfortable I just ended up twisting and turning and sweating more. MAAAAAAN I can’t wait for June.

When was the last time you met someone new?: A week or so ago when I went on a following spree on this blog and started talking to a couple of them. Lol following spree in the survey community means following 3 or 4 blogs, but still.

When was the last time you filled up your car with petrol/gas?: Gotta be the first week of March as that was the last time I was able to drive a lot.

When was the last time you ate popcorn?: Some months ago, I’m guessing? There was a brief time that my mom bought popcorn kernels to make bowls of popcorn for us, but we got tired of it pretty easily so there was no reason for her to keep buying more packs.

When was the last time you went to a school event? I went to the Lantern Parade last December, as is tradition for my school’s community. I was mostly alone because my friends had to leave early and Gabie was stuck in traffic all evening and didn’t arrive til like, 9:30 PM, which sounds sad for me lol but it was still a fun experience.

When was the last time you took the trash out?: My parents don’t give me that task.

When was the last time you did anything to change your appearance?: Fucking March, a week before the lockdown. Okodlkjfffjsj don’t remind me I’m still pressed about it. No one got to see my short hair and bangs grrrrrrrr

When was the last time you cooked at home?: A week ago. I reconciled with the kitchen and cooked a couple of hotdogs hahaha. They’re frozen and literally a child could make them, but egh, I wanna have my moment too.

When was the last time you had a sleepover?: Honestly can’t remember. Start of the year maybe?

Where did you last go shopping for clothing?: Feliz. It’s my favorite place to find new clothes so yeah, you’ll always be hearing about Feliz. Where did you last go on a date to?: A study date at Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and dinner at Yabu afterwards.

Where was the last wedding you went to?: 2007, my uncle and aunt’s. I had plans to go to my cousin Joelle’s wedding in Texas this year, but I think they postponed it which highkey ended up working well for them because it wouldn’t have happened under current circumstances anyway.

Where did you last park your car, other than home?: Gabie’s place.

Where did you last leave your keys?: On top of the dining room TV.

Where did your last kiss take place? By Gabie’s front door, I think.

Where did you last go for a walk to?: In front of the house and just a little farther, with my dog. He’s getting older so he gets tired easily and can’t go on the same walks we used to have, but I still make sure he gets his exercise.

Where did you last take a vacation to?: We had a weekend trip to Tagaytay and Cavite but honestly it felt like a quick getaway more than anything else. The last trip that felt like a vacation was when we went to Bicol.

Where did you last go to celebrate your own birthday?: I celebrated it at home.

Where was the last place you had dinner at?: Just at home, again.

Where did you last go to exercise?: I don’t exercise. < Ha, samesies.

Where did you last take public transport to?: Jum and I were going to the Senate building for a journalism class. That was the first and last time I took legit public transport.

Where does the last person you hung out with live?: Upper part of the city.

Where did you last visit for the first time?: Uhhhh I think it was the salon I went to to get my hair done.

Where did you last take a photo?: On the floor of the dining area, to take selfies with my dog.

#survey #surveys

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cthayers · 5 years

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hiya it is sam back at it with another muse already ... so as you will soon find out i have little to no will power ... and i had no idea we’d be able to take up second muses so soon but i literally was already working on this beotch because i knew i wanted to bring her in eventually ! camila is a v old muse of mine that i have never had the opportunity of playing in a group but i figured this was the perfect opportunity and so here we are .

did you hear how CAMILA THAYER is applying to columbia university as an ENGLISH major ?! the TWENTY year old is living in the WATT HALL. i heard that they got in because they are + CREATIVE and + PASSIONATE, but honestly i think SHE can be - RESERVED and -ARROGANT. they’re a real ACADEMIC. oh well, only time will tell if the SOPHOMORE will make it til the end.

full name : camila allen thayer

nickname : cam , cami

birthday : june 15, 1999

zodiac : gemini sun, cancer moon, aquarius rising

nationality : american

ethnicity : 1/2 ashkenazi jewish, 1/2 english

religion : atheist

sexual & romantic orientation : bisexual , biromantic

hometown : hampton , new hampshire & cheraw , south carolina

accent : twinge of a southern accent , but mostly a posh new england accent

languages spoken : english , conversational french

major : english

minor(s) : latin & french

hobbies : reading , horseback riding , tennis , piano playing

aesthetics : plaid skirts and knee socks , clawfoot bathtubs , sylvia plath poetry books , thin framed glasses , pink highlight , wandering through the met , film cameras , hand written letters + PINTEREST

character parallels : astrid sloan ( the politician ) , camille preaker ( sharp objects ) , amma crellin ( sharp objects ) , camilla macaulay ( the secret history ) , serena vanderwoodson ( gossip girl ) , donna sheridan ( mamma mia here we go again )

personality & headcanons

camila has always been a quiet individual , especially around those she doesn’t know . calm , cool , collected , many people’s initial impression of her is that she hates them due to her resting bitch face and the lack of acknowledgment she gives before she’s truly comfortable around a person

she does not open up easily , and doesn’t really know how to handle being loved . so she typically doesn’t let anybody get that close .

major abandonment issues and daddy issues . so she seeks validation from men and also if she lets you in be prepared to fucking stay

doesn’t party much because she prefers to stay in and study or be with her closest friends , she drinks but prefers small social gatherings with those she’s close to

has a nasty cigarette habit and shows no signs of stopping

her favorite season is the fall , and her favorite holiday is halloween

i think she’s v mysterious sort of ? like , this really pretty girl that keeps to herself mostly , and her small group of friends , but she’s got this alluring aspect of her that draws some near .. v greek mythology siren esque

very soft , but also not at all ? like wears skirts and knee socks and berets and flow-y white dresses and sits in coffee shops while it rains reading poetry BUT , she can be dangerous . seductive , arrogant , selfish , and quite emotionless at times . v ice maiden type , will use beauty to get what she wants in the most subtle of ways

so basically she comes off as this sweet , elegant woman with a soft smile who spends her weekends at museums , but when you get closer to her ( if you get closer to her ) you might see a much darker side to her

kind of into that witchy shit , so

background

camila was the second child born to marianne allen, though her older brother has a different father. her brother was born when marianne was just seventeen, running away from her perfect new hampshire home and her perfect new hampshire family to raise the child with his father in a small town in south carolina

they had planned to run away and meet in south carolina , though the father never showed . so it was just marianne and this baby boy , but it wasn’t long before marianne found herself pregnant again , another local farmer boy , thomas thayer

so camila was born , and it was the four of them in this tiny home that barely fit all of them , and marianne was just shy of twenty and didn’t even want to be a mother , so life wasn’t all that great for the thayers .

camila’s mother was never very maternal , and her father was a drunk . he didn’t truly love marianne , nor did he love camila very much . he especially didn’t love her brother , who wasn’t even his child .

camila and her brother stuck together , a dynamic duo of sorts . they were best friends and had each other’s backs through anything . at night , when they could hear their parents fighting , they would cuddle up in bed together and talk about their happiest thoughts , the lives they wished they had , so on .

at seven , thomas thayer decided to call it quits . he left in the night without so much as a goodbye , and though he had never felt particularly close to camila , camila felt close to him . it was her father after all , and she craved his attention , his validation .

at nine , her grandparents in new hampshire were finally able to locate them . getting cps involved , they were granted full custody of the kids , and camila and her brother were taken away from their mother and put into a new , grandeur home with these old people they’d never even heard about before . it was not a welcomed change , though it would soon be .

the first thing she discovered at her grandparent’s home was her grandfather’s library . he was a retired professor at dartmouth , and had an entire room full of literary classics , academic journals , and other first edition books . as a child , camila was not allowed in without his supervision , though she often snuck in without permission .

she was put into private school where she was expected to achieve excellent marks and commit to extracurriculars , though she was so behind in her schooling due to the underprivileged education system she’d faced in south carolina , that it took her a while to get back on track . though once she did , she excelled . they found that camila was incredibly gifted in creative and liberal subjects , such as art , english , and history . still , she excelled in math and science , though had to put forth a little more effort .

she took up horseback riding and tennis , but nothing could replace the comfort she felt in cuddling up with a good book from her grandfather’s library , in front of their grand fire place with a mug of her grandmother’s hot cocoa , or playing the piano in her grand parents’ grand hall

though she lived a life of luxury , her and her brother spent two - four weeks every summer going down to visit their mother . each year , as she got older , she began to realize just how broken her mother was , and truly began to understand why her grandparents felt the need to take her children from her .

camila , though not necessarily a tomboy , had always surrounded herself with boys . all her best friends were boys , and she hardly ever got along with her girl classmates . perhaps it had something to do with growing up so close to her brother , and often befriending his friends .

when she was sixteen , though , her guy friends started seeing her differently . boys , in general , began to really notice her . this was the first time she realized she was closed off to love . she had a boyfriend during her junior year of high school , and on the night he told her he loved her , she simply responded “ no , you don’t . ”

anyway ! getting accepted into columbia was a dream come true , though no one was all that surprised . she’d also been accepted to dartmouth ( her grandparents’ alma mater and where he taught , and where he’d urged her to go ) and brown , but something about new york city was enticing . she’d always lived in small towns , under twenty thousand people , and moving to a big city with millions seemed like a nice change of pace

she has made one close knit group of friends during her freshman year , though she’s still only a sophomore and we know how those things change . nonetheless , if you weren’t one of those people , you probably wouldn’t know who she was , because she didn’t get out much ( mayhaps she was seen around campus though )

wanted connections !

alright enough about camila if you got through all that i’m so sorry KJAHKSJGH but ! i have quite a few connections i’d love

the close friends she made freshman year . these would be pretty much the only people camila hung out with last year , and though things can change , the only people she’ll hang out with at the start of this year . i imagine this group to be mostly guys ( though not necessarily exclusively ) , because she tends to befriends boys as opposed to girls ? i’d say about 5 people ! ( 1 / 5 )

her number one best friend . this would have to be a male or male presenting muse , as camila has never found herself that close to a girl , reasons unknown tbh , she just gets along with boys better IDK inspo : ( x , x ) ( 0 / 1 )

close girl friend . that being said , every girl still needs her girlies . so she’d be fairly close to this girl , even if she doesn’t open up that much , perhaps the girl feels like she can open up to camila ? this can all be plotted out ! i feel like camila is a v good secret keeper , she doesn’t talk all that much so you can expect her to keep anything safe lmao ( 0 / 1 )

toxic relationship . sooo tbh this gotta be with a muse who is not a good guy , because camila is not that good of a gal ? . i see this being sort of on again , off again ? i’m not sure if either of them truly feel anything for one another , but they must feel something that keeps them going back to one another . though camila doesn’t really open herself up to love , she’s not necessarily closed off from relationships . ya girl needs to be satisfied and she ain’t the type to sleep around ok ? anyway i see them being really possessive of one another and having p explosive fights , definitely not right for each other and yet !!! also just to be clear , i see them as mutually bad for one another it’s not one sided ! just give me this angst pls . inspo : ( x , x , x , x ) ( 1 / 1 ) lukas tozer

unrequited crush . this would be unrequited on the other muse’s behalf . open to m/f/nb and whether or not camila knows there is a crush there can be plotted out ! basically this just goes along with the hc that camila is very mysterious and allurring from afar , and that those who don’t know her all that well tend to be drawn to her and a lot of times will romanticize her ? but also for extra angst i am possibly thinking that the two are v close and camila does know and won’t let them like her buT we can figure it all out . lmao . anyway ya inspo : ( x , x , x , x ) ( 0 / 1 )

also just general plots i’d love to see : someone she tutors in english or journalism or literature anything regarding that sort of subject , bad influence / someone determined to get her out of her shell , enemy plots !! gimme girls who think she’s a snob or boys who think she’s a bitch or everything in between , study buddies , girl crushes because camila is bi and thinks every girl is pretty , give me anything under the sun tbh i’m open to so much

#columbia.intro #this ended up getting so long i M so sorry #just give this a lil like and ill come hit u up on discord or ims !

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mysamcedesmadness · 5 years

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So, What Are We Doing This Summer?

It was called to my attention that Henry's age was confirmed as 17 in either the Frittle episode or his birthday episode (I've not repeatedly watched those, so I didn't remember), which would either put them in their senior year or put Henry as a graduating 18 year old next year, which does happen, so I'll go with that.

Also, for some reason, all of the italics and bolds and such disappear whenever I paste to Tumblr. I honestly don’t feel like redoing tonight, but the ffnet post has them, for various emphasis on words and stuff, if that’s a better read for you.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13274210/7/So

So, What Are We Doing This Summer?

There was no Sweet Sixteen thing that she wanted to do. To be fair, her parents wanted to throw her something and invite her friends over, but she just wanted a nice dinner, some cake, maybe a museum trip and to look over college packets. Last birthday, she went to a show that she wanted to see with her friends, but it was such a hectic night that she almost didn't get to see it.

That's how plans with the friends tended to go. Unexpected and hectic. So, Sweet Sixteen, she was doing things with her parents! And that was all that there was to it!

"But, what about the time WE want to spend with you?" Jasper asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows and handed him a pamphlet. "Here. Underline cons in red, highlight pros in pink."

"What is this?"

"College brochures."

"Why are you looking at college brochures, we still have more than a year of high school left?"

She laughed, "And I very well can't figure out what schools to apply to after graduation. Senior year student council has so much to do for all of those senior ceremonies, I want to make sure I've given myself time to think about where I'm going."

"Why not Swellview University?" He wondered.

"It's on my list, but not my top choice. I want an HBCU or an Ivy League school."

"I'm gonna go right there to Swellview U. It's a good school!"

"I'm sure it's great. It's just not exactly what I want," she said and they heard the sound of Captain Man and Kid Danger coming down the tubes.

She smiled at them as they approached, resuming some kind of debate. "Dude, there's no way that a giant pancake could best a giant waffle. The waffle has ridges!" Henry fussed, then kissed her on the cheek.

"What are you two even TALKING about?"

"Animated and animatronic breakfast foods," Ray said, popping gum into his mouth. "Henry thinks that sausage would be more of a romantic than bacon and that a giant waffle could defeat a giant pancake in a fight to the death, covered in butter and syrup!"

"HOW do these subjects get started?" Charlotte wondered as they changed back.

"What about a crepe?" Jasper wondered.

Henry and Ray both laughed and repeated, "Crepe?"

"Oh yeah, a giant CREPE can fight!" Ray taunted.

Henry added, "Guess it's gonna just roll up to the scene, since he's gonna lose his innards if he steps up." The duo fell on each other laughing. Jasper sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure why you entered their weird little world."

"Third Wheel Syndrome has me sensitive, I think."

Henry took a seat next to Charlotte and asked Jasper, "What do you mean?"

"Since the two of you got together, I'm feeling left out," Jasper admitted.

"How? I just spent four hours stuck in a vat of scrambled eggs and country gravy. You and Char have been here going through…" he picked one up from in front of Charlotte and she sucked her teeth. "College brochures." He set it down, "Jasp you're leaving for college too?"

"No. I'm marking pros and cons for Charlotte. I'm going to Swellview University. We talked about this."

"I know! I was gonna be super upset if you were gonna run off on me. Bad enough she will be." He pointed a thumb to Charlotte.

"What happens when that happens?" Jasper wondered.

"It's at least a year in the future. We haven't even discussed what we're doing this summer," Charlotte said. The three were quiet for a moment. Ray and Schwoz were talking among themselves a few feet away.

Henry broke the collective silence between their trio by asking, "So, what are we going to do this summer"

"There's my birthday.." Jasper said then squinched his face and shook his head, "You weren't talking to me, were you?"

"I was talking to you both. Anybody have plans already?"

"I never have plans," Jasper said, almost certain that Henry was definitely only talking to Charlotte.

She said, "Same old same old for me. Summer Youth Program in June. Beginning of July trip with my parents. The only thing different this year is I'm going to add three or four campus tours of whichever colleges have the least cons and most pros."

"Need company?" Henry wondered. She furrowed her eyebrows and actually looked up at him. "Just to you know, make sure that you enjoy yourself despite the work."

"I love college tours. I'll enjoy myself," she said.

Henry pouted, "Fine." She looked questioningly at the sky about his salty tone, but left it alone. Henry sighed, "Jasper, do you think you'll want to spend any time with me this summer?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Jasper cheered. Charlotte rolled her eyes. She hadn't said that she wasn't going to spend any time with him.

In fact, her visits would be four weekends from the entire summer. Her Youth Program was on Thursdays. Her trip was two weeks. Aside from that, she was pretty sure she'd see both of these clowns every other summer moment. She'd tuned out the boys making plans without her whenever she heard Jasper declare, "It's gonna be super hard for us to do these things whenever you and Charlotte are married and stuff."

Henry shook his head and Charlotte chimed in, "Whenever what?"

Jasper reminded her, "Remember that whole hashtag Henlotte thing?"

"That was a joke, Bro," Henry said, laughing a little uncomfortably. "Nobody actually thought that I was proposing or that we were gonna be kissing. That's why it was so hilarious."

"Yeah, but you are kissing. You kiss a lot. You're together. Charlotte's thinking about her upcoming colleges before junior year end. Do we really believe she's not thinking beyond that?" Henry's head turned sharply and quickly to Charlotte.

She scoffed and said, "Don't look so panicked. As it turns out, I've been focused enough on my educational future that I haven't been circling anything in bridal books on the off chance that my boyfriend ever wants to me to participate in the antiquated institution of marriage."

Henry sighed, relieved, "Oh thank God. Wait. So… You never wanna get married, at all? To anybody?"

"Honestly, it's never crossed my mind. I've had one stupid boyfriend and I'm only 16. Why I would daydream about becoming someone's less respected partner is beyond me."

"Less respected?" Jasper repeated.

But Henry was stuck on "Stupid boyfriend?"

Charlotte snatched her brochures from Jasper and explained, "Married women are taken less seriously than their married male counterparts in the corporate world. Whether I go into STEM, academia, politics, business, or even if my degree proves useless and I wind up regretting decisions in retail - women are already valued less and when you add a wedding ring, they're expected to be full time workers and full time homemakers while Daddy retreats into his little solo space to unwind after his hard day's work. And don't let her become a mom! She doesn't get the necessary time off to be the kind of mother that everyone expects. Simultaneously, whatever kind of mother she is, the workplace thinks is too much." She was stuffing her bag and then looked at Henry, "And for the record, just because I haven't thought about it doesn't mean that I need your graphic depictions of relief about it!" She snatched her bag and headed for the elevator.

Jasper called out, "Okay, but that explanation of the workplace tells that you've definitely thought about it."

She glared at him and snapped, "That information is common knowledge to women!"

As the elevator door shut, Henry looked confused. "So.. Am I supposed to be thinking about marriage, or not?"

"I think that you shouldn't be, because Charlotte doesn't have marriage plans, but maybe if it crosses your mind, try to not seem repulsed by Charlotte being your wife? Her execution of the subject was all over the place."

"The place of lies," Ray said. "Women wanna get married. It's their reward for being good girlfriends!"

"That's a gross oversimplification of like everything involved in what you said," Henry commented. "Honestly, now that I think about it, Charlotte has literally never mentioned anything about weddings or marriage or anything like it. Not even so much as a "I'll play this song someday at my wedding."

Ray commented, taking a seat by Henry, "That's probably because she's been resigned to the fact that nobody's ever gonna marry her. I mean, she's the worst, amirite?"

"You're not," Jasper said, at the same time Henry said, "No."

"So, either of you can picture having Charlotte there, every single day, nagging you, telling you what to do, why this is unsafe or that's unwise?"

"That sounds like every day of my life since 5th grade," Jasper said.

"Yeah! Char is the smart one. We all know that. We need someone like that everyday!"

Ray muttered, "Still the worst."

"What is your problem with Charlotte?" Henry asked, exasperated."I mean, what if this does go different for us than my other relationships and it winds up being something real and lasting. Do I always have to worry that you're gonna be a butt to her?"

Ray laughed, "Yeah. I've known this was coming for a long time. I'm not treating her any differently no matter what status you have. Because as far as I'm concerned you've always been endgame… Also, she's the worst."

"Because she forces you to have to be better?" Jasper wondered.

Ray groaned and mumbled, "For your information, yes."

Charlotte came home and her uncle was on the couch, watching TV. What else was new? "Hey, Uncle Roscoe.

"Hey, Niece! You wanna watch the Kids Danger cartoon with me?"

"No. I've gotta look over college info so Mom and Dad will be able to plan my visits in between their orchestras and excavations. Speaking of, are they out tonight?"

"The Swellview Opera House. Your mom says there's a casserole just for you in the oven. Don't worry, I don't want whatever that is. I'm ordering a pizza." She nodded, disappointed that she wouldn't be able to discuss her college choices with them tonight. "You wanna watch one of your wedding dress shows?" Uncle Roscoe wondered.

"No."

"Not even Say Yasss, This is Your Drass?" He turned off the TV and wondered, "What's wrong, Tiny?"

"Sometimes, I feel like an outsider. Even in my own home and even with my only friends. Like, we're all sharing this one life, but nobody's on the journey with me and those that are on the journey, we're not on the same page."

"You know, I was an outsider like that too. Shoot, still to this day, as a starving artist."

"How can you be starving when you live here and eat everything we have?"

“I ain’t eat that grass casserole your mom made you.”

“I’m sure you mean bean sprouts,” she said, “And that’s not the whole casserole…” The doorbell rang and she looked at him. He reached for the remote control and she gave him a look. “I’ll get it.” She went to the door and by the time she peeked out of the peephole to see Henry nervously bouncing, Uncle Roscoe was laughing at something on the television. She called, “I’m gonna step outside and talk to my friend, Unc.”

“Girl, I’m watching my shows,” he said. Basically, he didn’t care.

She opened the door and stepped outside. Henry laughed, “Your friend? Something you need to tell me?” He joked, awkwardly. “What do you need, Henry?” She asked, sounding irritated.

“I need to explain what happened earlier.”

“Okay.”

“So… Jasper was talking about marriage and we’ve never spoken about that, because neither of us are thinking that far ahead into us. But, whenever I seemed relieved, it wasn’t because I think I’d never wanna marry you or something. I just thought that we were both in the same space - a space where that’s not even a conversation yet. So, I’m sorry if I sounded insulting to you.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “We rushed really fast into the entire boyfriend-girlfriend thing. There’s no need for us to rush anything into anything else. So, it’s fine.”

“But, you seemed upset.”

“Yeah. For the reason that I told you, but it’s not a big deal. Honestly, I have other things to be upset about. Maybe it just landed on you. So, I’m sorry.”

"You wanna talk about your things?" He asked.

She sighed and leaned against the front door. "You know how my parents and I go on a trip every summer together?"

"Yeah?"

"This year is the last one. Next year, they're sending me on a solo trip after graduation to see the world myself before college."

"That sounds awesome."

"But, I hardly see them now and I just want them to go over the pros and cons of these colleges with me. I know that sounds silly to other people, but it's a huge decision to make and I wish sometimes that they'd be more involved instead of just trusting my judgement. They raised me to be independent and they don't realize that sometimes, I could use just a little dependency, you know?"

Henry nodded, "Yeah, I get that. I haven't been able to depend on my parents in quite a while. But… I've always been able to depend on my friends. So, if you just need someone to lean on, I literally have nothing better to do than here for you." Henry offered her a hug and she smiled a small smile and accepted it. When she was hugging him, he said, "And it'd be excellent, I think… some time in the far future… you know?" She looked up at him. "IF we were thinking about that."

She nodded, "If I was gonna sell myself out in that way, it'd be with my best friend." He laughed. "I meant everything that I said about marriage! The only way that I'd be on board is if it was handled like a business arrangement with someone I trust."

"You trust like two people," he chuckled.

"Yep. And they'd both be IN the marriage."

"Me and???"

She stared at him and suggested, "Think it through."

"OH, YOU!"

"I already regret this unofficial contract."

"Fortunately, we've got a long time to even think about that. We haven't even discussed.. the physical evolution of our relationship." Her eyes widened and she wondered if he was talking about what she thought he was. He noticed and quickly changed the subject, "Or what you and me are doing this summer!"

She relaxed and nodded, "Aside from the few weeks, four weekends and Thursdays, I'm all yours…" He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I'm open! I mean my time is free! I have a casserole to check on. I gotta get inside!" She rushed back in, shut the door and Henry shook his head and left. "Why would bring that up, Henry? She was already having a day. I mean, sure.. you wanna discuss it. But, you haven't been together that long and it was a FLUKE that you even got her. This happened kinda haphazardly. You're gonna screw it up if you keep being weird!"

Charlotte leaned against the door, breathing hard. Are… we THERE yet??? She glanced out of the window and saw Henry look back at the house before walking away with his head down. A few minutes later, she got a text: Hey. Sorry if I scared you bringing up THAT. I won't mention it again. I don't want stuff weird between us. Call me when you don't feel awkward.

She sighed with relief and replied instantly: Thanks, Hen. You're a great friend and honestly the best boyfriend.

Henry: Not stupid boyfriend?

Charlotte: Not at all. ILU

Henry: SAME.

#So I Had a Dream #So What Are We Doing This Summer #chenry #henry danger #hd fanfic

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doodles-arts · 6 years

Text

Honesty

Pairing; Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings:???? Maybe some cursing. Some crying from our soft boy

Description: Peter has been Ned friend for YEARS!!! But when your old enough to catch his eye, you become his crush. And in the year that passes by and you become junior, you can’t help but notice him as well. Soulmate Au where the soulmates can’t lie AT ALL to each other.

I had to change Peters birthday to June 10 from August tenth. Cause I wamted it to take place in the school, BITE ME! This is a Drabble. It’s honestly really crappy, I did try to revise it as much as possible however.

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Saturday, june 8 12:37 pm

You opened the front door to see peter, the only crush you’ve had that knows you even exist. And he was SUPER cute, even though you were sooo much more ‘eccentric’ than him (that’s what Ned says). You look up at him, soaking up his milky skin and little freckles . You also take in context that he’s probably here for Ned and not for you, unlike one of your fantasies.

“NEDDD! PETERS HERE!” You smiled while moving aside for him to walk in to your house. Your brother Ned not far from walking out of his room to greet peter. He rolled his eyes at you as you hovered right behind peter, “thanks (Y/N), think you could bring the soda and chips”, you stuck your tongue out at him while getting their snacks. Brushing past peter’s arm with your own, on purpose.

You could hear their steps walking to Ned’s room while you put the chips in bowls. Your mom winked at you while bringing the chips. You groaned already knowing what was on her mind, she liked Peter. And she also thought you two would make a cute couple, even though she knew you hadn’t found your soulmate yet. Knowing yourself you’d probably find your soulmate in the most embarrassing way possible. Seeing as when soulmates do meet it is physically impossible to lie to one another.

Pretty handy if you say so...

You pushed the ajar door open with your hip because your hands were full. An orange crush and a bowl of Doritos, peter was quick to help you with the heavy cold soda. “Thanks peter, I’ll get the cups right now.” Peter nodded, Peter usually got quiet and awkward with you and Ned in the same room.

But when it was just you, he’d laugh and talk miles a minute. He was comfortable with you, but when Ned was around, it felt wrong, hitting on his younger sister, you guessed. And even though Peter knew you were only a year younger than him, it felt like he was betraying his best friend. Peter was a cringy nerd compared to you, he didn’t even know what memes were before he met you. Any sense of good humor or having the ability to notice backhanded compliments, he learned from you. You also thought him really funny and heart burning comebacks. He didn’t use them of course, but they were awesome to know

It made him feel like a bug under a rock and old. It made him feel super old. But if peter was being honest with himself he liked you, more than a friend. And even though he tried to keep it on the down low, Ned knew.

And it sorta creeped him out for a while, but he knew Peter would be the only guy he’d like around you, and as much as he pushed you around and teased you, if cared about you. Speaking of which- you walked in with the cups, “here you go, guys. Ned- mom just ordered the pizza.” Ned nodded and pumped his fist, saying a ‘yes’ shortly after.

And high fives with Peter.

————3 hour time skip———-

When you heard Ned walk in to the bathroom after a 3 hour long movie sheesh with peter you knew, he’d be there for 20 minutes tops. Peter would usually go around an hour after. You took this as your chance, to sneak into the room to finally talk to Peter. (And no it was not creepy that you knew there movie sheesh bathroom schedule)

opening the old wooden door, the soft creaking brought Peters attention to you from his phone. Peter really got to know a year ago, so he didn’t mind you walking into Ned’s room. It was actually a routine you both had, Ned would go to the bathroom and you’d talk to him. Sometimes about memes, other times you needed help in chemistry and trigonometry. Mostly you’d both just openly flirt, but you’d both never admit that out loud.

But you were just being a normal little sister, checking in ‘cause curiosity called you to what your older brother did with his friends. And you needed some idea for a present because Peters birthday was coming up and Ned and you wanted to plan something with aunt May. your job was to find out if he already had plans.

“Sooo.. peter, what are you gonna do for your birthday?” He gave a smile and rose an eyebrow at your question. You put your hands up in surrender, “okay okay! You caught me. I wanted to know if you’d be going to school, and what class you have first period, I have a surprise for you. I wanna be the first person to say happy birthday to you in school!”, you said it as innocently as possible. And Peter thought nothing of it.

But the little wink you gave him after, still made him blush. “I-I mean, I have physics, but you really shouldn’t get me anything. I couldn’t get you anything for yours.” You were going to reassure him with a lie, something along the lines that you didn’t want one anyway, which was very wrong, but you didn’t want him to feel bad.

“Yeah that’s true, I was pretty sad, but I want to get you a gift anyway”, it had just slipped out, you couldn’t believe yourself, you couldn’t believe what you had said. Peter look at you with wide eyes, which you mirrored, “I’m really sorry, I did want to get you something though, I even had something in mind. Promise.”, Peter felt bad that you were sad on your birthday just because of him.

“So, are you going to be doing anything special? Or does aunt May have anything planned?” Trying to stick to the plan before you embarrassed yourself even more than you already had. The plan being that you or Ned get as enough information from Pete without being obvious. He pondered on it and shrugged. “I mean aunt May did ask me if I wanted to go somewhere, but I just want to stay home and chill”, you nodded, relating to that.

“Maybe you, me and Ned could hang out at the movies, or something?”

He saw your teasing smile and smiled back with a small blush. “I m-mean if you w-want to”, you giggled at his reaction and he followed by laughing softly with you.

“Nah I can’t go”, it slipped out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself. ‘Shit.’ If you could kick yourself in the ass, you would have! He looked up in shock, before frowning while nodding, “Yeah I g-get it, what will you be doing if you don’t mind me a-asking, that I-is.”

Lie.

And you were going to lie before your big mouth dug you in a deeper hole. You were going to tell him you had a super hard chemistry test you had to study for. But... your mouth had different plans. “I won’t be able to ‘cause I’ll be planning a party.” You wanted to literary cut your throat out. You could feel your face being lit on fire.

Peter’s face lit up, and you already knew he was onto you. “Oh! Who’s else has the same birthday as me?” You tried to lie. But there was no point. It felt impossible to lie while looking at those brown puppy dog eyes.

“No ones.” He looked at you a big smirk, and a fake ‘thinking face’.

“So who’s a party are you planning (Y/N)”, Peter already had a good guess but maybe he just liked torturing you.

You sighed. There was no point. “Yours Peter”, his eyes turned to saucers, grinning so large you thought his jaw hurt. “You don’t have to do that, I’d rather just chill with you guys.”

Ned walked in, and yelled your name out in frustration, “seriously! It was your own idea, and you couldn’t even keep it a surprise!!?” You cringed at Ned’s yelling voice. Getting up ready to leave, before he chewed your ass off.

“Ned it’s alright dude, I’d rather chill anyway. Besides I was the one interrogating her”, Ned rolled his eyes. You two were such love birds and it made him sick. “I’ll leave you guys to your marathon”, you said awkwardly. Peter wanted to stop you, but he knew it would be weird. Seeing as he already defended you, asking you to stay was just playing bold in front of Ned.

Stepping in to the comfort of your own room, you thought back as to why you had caved into Peter so easily?. You couldn’t lie to him! You probably gave the guy an emotional rollercoaster the way you told him everything. And he even agreed to you asking him out, Ned would be there too so it wouldn't be much of a date, and you flat out told him no, you lead him on and than shot him down. You wanted to punch yourself, that was literally a cue for you to take things forward. You knew that’s what it meant because peter was too much of a softy to ask you out straightforward. He was openly asking you to start taking him seriously by saying yes, and you blew it! Because you had to be honest…

Of course you didn’t mind, but you wished you could have given him another response. All he did was ask and you told him everything. It wasn’t like it was the first time either. You could never bend the truth around him, but you always thought it was his beautiful eyes and cute lips.

But, but it was like... you couldn’t help but always tell the truth….

Was this what your mother spoke about? Not being able to lie, not being able to keep secrets at all. Could Peter really be your soulmate? Could your dreams and late night fantasies really have come true?

While the boys laughed and ate in your brother’s room, you were conjuring up a plan to figure out if it was true. Guess you’d have two gifts in the morning for Peter if this went right.

—————/second time skip, to the next morning/—————

The weekend passed and you hadn’t, nor spoken with peter until Monday came around. However both you and Ned did get him present on Sunday, You got Peter a new pack of film for is instant quality camera with some Star Wars frames, Ned got him some games he had his eyes on for while. Ned walked in with Peter to school, wishing him a happy birthday with you trailing behind on your phone. It was like that every morning for school, you didn’t mind. Peter was Neds best friend, you guys weren’t anything but friends who spoke when you knew the topic. So you tried not to intrude, you did give him his present and wish him a happy birthday too. But Peter secretly liked the days you talked your way into the conversation. He liked talking to you.

Ned, fortunately for you, had AP english while Peter had Physics and also fortunately for you, you had earth science and both classes were on the other side of the campus on the second floor. But unlike other mornings that you’d say goodbye and go to you own class, that wasn’t the case for today. Once Ned left, you grabbed peters arm, ignoring his slight and nervous manner.

“Peter, I have a few questions if you don’t mind.” He looked surprised and nodded with wide eyes. You breathed out, trying to calm your nerves or doubts. Remembering all the neutral, safe questions you could ask. Without being obvious or being caught.

You were in a less crowded highway, and even though people were still passing by, they paid the both of you no mind.

“What’s your favorite color?” Smooth. Unsuspecting.

“Red. I think? Blue is pretty good too”, he seemed to calm down and giggle at your first question.

“Favorite movie?” Good, you already knew the boys LOVED Star Wars and Star Trek. Let’s see how he answers.

“Ahh.. Probably Star Wars, but I can’t really just pick one.” He looked more calm.

“What’s your size in pants?” Of course you knew how it sounded, but you got the exact response you wanted.

“34, regular fit”, he had a furious blush on his face. It made you grin, he was so cute.

“Do you have a crush?” Of course, if he were to ask why, that meant he might be able to lie to you. But if he had no their chance but to answer truthfully because of the honesty charm between soulmates, you might just have your answer.

“Yes”, he said while looking down, the blush on his face reaching his ears. You knew he didn’t want to keep answering. Just when he was going to ask you something and change the subject you cut him off.

“Who is it?” His eyes shot up, teary eyed. It broke your heart to see him this way. Just about to tell him to forget it, about to apologize, he answered.

“Y-you”, his hands flew straight to his mouth, blush on max. Eyes glossy.

That’s when you noticed that your plan might not have been too straightforward. You had put the poor softy on the spot, practically embarrassed him, and you knew peter was bullied relentless;y

You felt like a monster, but your heart was doing flips, and it made you feel worse. So much was happening at once. You knew people would start staring if peter started crying. Pulling him to the back staircase G, completely empty, as expected. When you turned to look at him, he choked back a sob and your heart broke. You shushed him, standing on your tiptoes, (or pulling him closer depending on your height) pulling him for a hug. You saw the few tears falling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced it out of you like that. It was wrong.” He sniffled, his hot cheeks, from the blushing, were wet from the tears when you laid his head against your left shoulder blade.

“I have a crush on you too, Peter.” You pulled him off your shoulder slowly, wondering what his reaction would be. Hoping he be as excited. He had a blush on his cheeks, but a big grin contrasting his tears. “We might also be soulmates..” you said sheepishly. His wide eyes and breathless laugh was all you needed to calm your nerves.

“I knew I was having trouble lying to you.” You laughed, knowing the feeling. Pulling him for another hug, and his arms around your neck squeezed you harder. Your grin couldn’t falter.

But you had to giggle and chuckle once peter pulled away, dropping your [book bag/purse] with his own and he wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you around. Whooping in pure happiness, cheeks still blushing, and your warm cheeks felt on fire. “I’m so happy! I got the best soulmate ever!” He said softly against you while you hugged him.

Your grin only grew by the second, pulling away and adding, “me too❤️.” You looked at his wet eyelashes and tinted nose and cheeks while his grin toned down while looking at your hazed eyes. You leaned forward and brushed your nose against his, your toes tired from keeping you up. You bought leaned in slow, but you froze, afraid of disappointing.

But peter came to your rescue by leaning down to meet yours. Of course you were the one who took charge in the kiss, his arms tightened around you. You were full of energy with his lips against yours. He was so soft, so gentle, you were afraid he’d break if you kissed too hard.

His lips tasted of mint and raspberries, like if they were an ice cream mix of the two. You bit at his bottom lip, he whimpered and pulled away, panting. You felt bad for taking it so far.

“Sorry, sweetie”, your tone soft and whispered while you panted. He shook his head, a small nervous grin on his face. “I liked it, r-really, was just surprised.” He gave you that million dollar smile and those diamonds in the rough eyes. You thought you’d melt and your knees would buckle.

Your soft boy was in your arms and you couldn’t ask for more. “Peter I’m sorry, but, you will be skipping first period with me.” Before he could protest or laugh, you weren’t sure what he would say or do, you pulled him down to another kiss, savoring him, and his mint, raspberry lips.

“Happy birthday, soulmate!” The mixture of both of your laughs could fill any heart with love.

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Pretty long Drabble.... ikkkk but I couldn’t help itttttt, I can never rush ANYTHING

😭😭

Hope you loved!!

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