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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Three (Harry Styles)

a/n: part 3 wohoo! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, it keeps me going and writing more and more! originally i thought it would turn out to be about three parts, but it has outgrown that limit so i added two more parts to the masterpost, that’s for sure is gonna happen but i might even add more?! not sure, im still in the writing process so i can’t tell how long it’s going to turn out to be, but this just means even more content for you guys!

as always, feedback is very much appreciated, please make sure to share your thoughts and comments on the part, it’s such a huge boost for writers to read what you thought!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

When you were working at the daycare you couldn’t focus on photography as much as you would have liked to. You often had to stay in for extra hours, wait until the last kid was picked up and then do paperwork, or change the decoration in your room or whatever Clair asked you to do that day. By the time you got home you just wanted to take a bath and fall into bed. You also had to travel 40 minutes to work which took away a lot of time from your day.

Working for Harry helped you immensely with focusing more on your passion. Even on his worse days he got home by six and since your workplace is your home, you don’t even have to drive forty minutes to enjoy the comfort of your home, you just walk up the stairs to your room and that’s it.

In addition, taking care of Izzy, you still have the chance to work on some editing or snap new pictures. You have time off when she has her classes and when you put her down for her nap. The best thing is that Izzy is quite interested in photography, she gets very interested whenever she sees you bring out one of your cameras and she always lets you take pictures of her, posing and goofing around. The folder on your computer that has her name is growing each day with more and more sweet photos of the little girl that has completely stolen your heart. You’ve been regularly getting your favorites shots of her printed and you always leave them on Harry’s desk so when he gets home he sees them and they make him forget about whatever happened at work that day.

You are getting more and more emails about possible sessions and slowly but surely, your weekends start to fill up with weddings, birthday parties and engagement photoshoots. It seems like you have definitely made the right choice when you took this job. No doubts.

“Can I ask a question, daddy?” Izzy is poking the peas around on her plate as the four of you sit at the dining table at dinner. Ruth has joined you today, because Harry had to make a quick trip to his office in the afternoon and you were out shopping with Trevor today.

“Sure, baby,” Harry hums nodding.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” she asks seriously, eyeing her own plate that has some chicken on it, while Harry’s is only stacked with veggies and potatoes.

“Because I decided that I won’t want to.”

“Can I decide that too?”

“You’re a little too young for that, baby. You need the meat to grow big. When you’re older you can think about what kind of things you want to and don’t want to eat.”

“Okay,” she nods without throwing a tantrum about her dad telling her no. You know quite a few kids who would have flipped over it, but not Izzy. Harry might not even realize how good of a job he is doing raising her and teaching her how to be a good human.

“I have another question,” she announces, glancing up at Harry.

“Go ahead.”

“If you don’t eat meat, does that make you an herbivore?”

You can’t push down a chuckle, you were not expecting this. Your eyes meet Ruth’s over the table, she is enjoying this conversation just as much as you do. It’s cute how Izzy put two and two together and made a seemingly logical conclusion.

“We learned about herbivore dinosaurs this week,” you inform Harry, who is a little lost about why his daughter just called him an herbivore. Also, you’re quite impressed that she remembered the word, though she struggled with it at first, but it seems like it finally stuck.

Harry shakes his head chuckling as he sets his fork down, looking over at Izzy.

“In a way I should be called an herbivore, but that’s not what you call people who don’t eat meat. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Oh, okay,” she nods, wrapping up the information in her head as she keeps eating.

You and Ruth clean up after dinner while Harry gives Izzy a bath, a little earlier than usually, because she spilled apple juice on herself, so he decided to just go straight for the bath instead of changing once more before bedtime.

“Will you be fine with putting these away, Darling?” Ruth asks as you’re drying the last few dishes.

“Sure! I’ll take care of it,” you smile back at her as she nods and heads into the living room.

Harry emerges from upstairs with a freshly cleaned Izzy on his arms. As soon as her little feet touch the floor she bolts over to join Ruth in front of the TV while Harry walks into the kitchen just as you put the last dish away.

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts and suddenly, you feel your stomach drop, especially because his face seems very serious.

“Oh God, what did I do?” you ask, feeling yourself panicking already.

“Nothing! It’s not like that!” he chuckles softly, realizing you kind of misunderstood the situation.

“Okay, good. Sorry, you just looked so serious.”

“Sorry, I was just… thinking. So two friends of mine that I work together with also are getting married soon. They had a photographer booked already, but the guy cancelled on them and, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I recommended you to them.”

“Really?” you ask in complete surprise.

“Yeah. Actually, they saw a picture of Izzy that you took in my office and we started talking about how you do photoshoots in your free time and then I told them to ask if you’d be up to do their wedding as well.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Harry. Thank you!”

“I gave them your number, they’ll probably call you sometime next week or so.”

“Great!” you beam, excited about the new event you can work at. “I hope they’ll want to work with me.”

“I kind of hyped you up for them and they seemed very pleased with the pictures I showed them, so I’m sure they will want to,” Harry chuckles softly, even blushing a little. It always amazes you how a tall, muscular guy with so many tattoos can be such a soft, caring and loving person. It always reminds you not to judge the book by its cover.

“Thank you, Harry. This means a lot to me.” Reaching over you place your hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze before moving past him to join Ruth and Izzy in the living room.

Harry was right about Sarah and Mitch being all excited to get in contact with you, because they don’t even wait for the next week to reach out. Sunday afternoon you are working on some more editing at the dining table while Harry and Izzy are painting on the other end of the table, busy with their masterpieces when your phone starts ringing, an unknown number shown on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answer it, leaning back in your seat.

“Y/N, hi! My name is Sarah Jones, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, Harry gave me your number this week.”

“Oh! Sarah, yeah! So nice to talk to you!” you beam and Harry’s eyes snap up to you at the mentioning of the familiar name. “Harry mentioned you’d reach out and don’t worry, I’m happy to chat.”

“That’s great. I wanted to wait until Monday, but truth is that we are kind of in a short of time and I was afraid you’d be already busy for our date, so I wanted to call you as soon as possible.”

“No worries.”

“So first and foremost, I’m gonna ask if you have anything planned on the last weekend of May. I know it’s just in a few weeks, but I really hope we can work it out.”

“Let me pull up my calendar,” you tell her as you open up the app on your computer that you use to keep track with your sessions and events. Finding the weekend in question in it, you smile at the empty space. “Good news, seems like I’m free that weekend.”

“Oh thank God!” she breathes out in relief and you let out a chuckle. “That’s so amazing. So then would it be possible to meet up sometime next week? You could show some more works of yours and we can discuss more details, how does that sound?”

“This week? Well I have to work—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“Come into the office tomorrow morning.” “What?”

“Put her on speaker,” he smiles nodding towards your phone and you do as he asked, setting it to the table with Sarah on speaker. “Hey Sarah!”

“Harry, hi!”

“Aunt Sarah?” Izzy’s ears perk up, some pink paint on her cheeks that you have no idea how it got there, because her painting doesn’t even have any pink in it.

“Hi Izzy! So good to hear your voice!” she chuckles through the phone.

“Sarah, you’re gonna be at the studio Monday morning, right?” Harry asks and you can’t not notice how his voice changed the slightest bit as soon as he started talking about business.

“Yeah and Mitch is coming too,” she confirms.

“Okay then how about you come in tomorrow morning, Y/N?”

“But what about Izzy?”

“She can come too. I’ll look after her while you discuss the details, it’s no big deal. It’s been a while since the last time she came to work with me,” he smirks over at the little girl, who is already excited to spend some more time with her daddy at his workplace.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling.

“Thank you, well then I’m okay with tomorrow if it’s fine for you as well, Sarah.”

“That would be perfect! Thank you guys both, Mitch and I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Harry nods, going back to his painting. You take Sarah off the phone as you say your goodbye before ending the call.

You start Monday off with some extra excitement. Not just because you are about to get booked for another event, but also because it’s going to be the first time you see Harry at his workplace. He has been quite good at keeping his business separated from his private life, it never really happens that you catch him dwell about anything work related whenever he is home and around Izzy. The phone call with Sarah was like a tiny glimpse of what he might be like when he is in work mode and you’re kind of curious to see more of this side of him.

Just as usual, Harry takes care of Izzy in the morning while you get ready on your own. You want to look good, not only are you going to meet more of his friends, but people he works with. Or should you say, people who work for him.

You choose a light pink dress, throwing a white knitted sweater over your shoulders with a pair of ballerinas. After putting on some light makeup and grabbing your purse and laptop you head downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. Izzy is already sitting at the table, still in her pajamas since her and food are a dangerous combination and Harry always makes sure to get her dressed once she is away from all of that.

“You look so pretty, Y/N!” she beams, her legs dangling from the chair as she digs into her oatmeal. Harry appears from the kitchen and he has the same look on his face like when he saw you leave for that wedding a while ago. A blush paints his cheeks as he slows his steps down, his eyes running down on the length of your body before they return to your face.

“Izzy is right, you look… really pretty, Y/N,” he compliments into your face, unlike last time when you only heard him call you pretty when he thought you were long gone.

“Thank you,” you breathe out with a soft chuckle.

The morning carries on as usual, Harry dresses Izzy for the day and then you all head out, however you stop short upon seeing the various cars parked on the driveway and the double garage.

“Maybe take the Rover, it’s got the child seat in it and I’ll take the Jaguar today,” Harry suggests as he hands you over the keys to the Rover and then nears the car he is taking for the day.

“Oh yeah, you just take the Jaguar, boss,” you chuckle under your breath, finding it a little funny that deciding on which car you’re taking for the day is even a question in someone else’s life.

Izzy sings along the radio as you follow Harry’s car into the label’s building. Of course, it’s not just some simple office building, it’s situated in the riches area of the city and the building is massive with loads of floors and a huge HES Records sign above the entrance where you meet Harry after parking down.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles! Hello, Izzy!” the woman behind the front desk smiles widely immediately, standing up from her chair to hand Harry a stack of envelopes. “Your post, sir.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Have a nice day,” Harry nods in her way as the three of you move through the hall to the elevators. Waiting for it to arrive, you glance at the board on the wall that lists everything you can find in the building and the level you should look for it at. There are endless amount of studios, at least three on each levels, offices, creative rooms and conference rooms. It’s pretty clear that HES Records manages a lot of talents and that requires a lot of space.

Arriving to the twentieth floor, which is of course the top of the building, you are in awe as you realize that the whole floor is basically Harry’s office. There’s a kind of hall area for his two assistants, he has his own conference room, his kitchen and dining area and of course, his office space. The whole place screams power and influence. The modern design of the interior makes it such a fancy work space not just for him, but for everyone else in the building. It’s truly impressive.

“Wow, Harry. This place is… amazing,” you breathe out as he walks the two of you into the conference room where Izzy immediately climbs up to one of the chairs, standing up so she can lean onto the table. Harry walks behind her and adjusts her so she just sits before she could fall off.

“Thank you. I really like this place too. I always thought it’s important to have a great place to work at,” he smiles, clearly proud of how far his business has come. “There’s a mini fridge over there, feel free to take anything you’d like. Sarah texted me on the way here that they’ll be here shortly.”

“Great, thank you,” you nod, taking a seat next to Izzy as you set your laptop up. The glass door of the room opens and one of the assistants peeks inside.

“Mr. Styles, Mrs. Wonstein is on the phone asking for you.”

“Oh, alright, give me a minute and I’ll take it.” The assistant nods and walks out. “Izzy, come with daddy a little, alright? Let Y/N do her thing.” “She can stay, if you want. I can look after her,” you tell him, but he shakes his head as Izzy climbs off the chair and running over to him, she takes his hand.

“No, just focus on this one. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you smile with gratitude as the two of them walk out, leaving you alone. You start scrolling through your folders, wondering which photos you should show Sarah and Mitch, picking out some of your favorites while you wait for them, though they don’t take too long to arrive. Soon enough the glass door opens and the lovely couple walks in.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sarah greets you, wrapping you in a warm hug before stepping aside.

“Hi, I’m Mitch, nice to meet you,” the groom-to-be smiles shyly as he pulls you in for a short hug as well.

“Good to meet you guys too,” you smile back at them as you all sit to the table.

“Thank you so much for meeting us in such a short notice. Our photographer bailed out on us and I was starting to really worry when Harry mentioned that you are doing this kind of stuff in your free time,” Sarah explains.

“No worries. Would you like to go over some of my previous works?” you offer and they both nod in excitement before you start clicking through some old projects.

They share their vision for the whole wedding and the kind of pictures they would like and you like their approach and feel like it’s right up your alley. They both seem to like what you show them and Sarah compliments on how well you are able to catch small, but important moments.

“The wedding won’t be too big, just friends and family, but we do want a lot of memories, it means a lot to us,” Sarah explains and you nod, noting everything she says.

“Harry said you like this oldschool kind of vibe in your pictures,” Mitch chimes in.

“Oh, yeah. I like to make them look like they weren’t taken on a digital sometimes.”

“Do you think you can make some of those for us as well? Not all of them, just a couple,” Sarah asks.

“Sure! It’s more about the editing process, but it’s totally doable.”

You go over a few more things, making sure you’re on the same page, but you feel like things are working out perfectly. Though you guessed they would be great people, it’s still nice to work with such a nice and professional couple. You’ve had some crazy ones before, they definitely don’t make the job easy on you, but it’s not the case right now.

“Okay, so are you sure the date is okay for you? We wouldn’t want you to cancel on anything you had before just because we are Harry’s friends,” Mitch assures you, but you give them a warm smile.

“I’m totally free, don’t worry. Harry doesn’t have that kind of advantage here,” you chuckle softly.

“Thank you so much in this case. You’re truly a lifesaver,” Sarah breathes out in relief.

“Thank you for the trust. I’m really looking forward to working with you guys!”

Finishing up the meeting you pack up, chatting a little out of the business talk with Sarah and Mitch as you head over to Harry’s office.

“Hey! How did it go?” Harry asks as soon as the three of you walk in. Izzy is sitting at his desk, like a little boss, coloring something as he is sitting on the corner of the desk.

“Amazing, we owe you one for suggesting her,” Sarah sighs and you can’t help but just chuckle at how thankful she really is that you could help them out.

“You owe me no more than just one dance at the wedding,” Harry smiles at her.

“Can I dance too?” Izzy’s head perks up.

“Oh baby, you’re not coming to the wedding. You’ll be staying with Grandma, I already told you.” Izzy pouts at her dad, but she doesn’t seem to mind it that much, she quickly goes back to coloring.

“We’ll dance some other time, okay?” Sarah offers her and she nods happily.

“Can I dance with Uncle Mitch too?” she questions and Mitch just smiles down at her.

“Of course,” he hums, curling an arm around Sarah’s waist. “I have a meeting in ten so I’ll head out, I’m gonna pick James up in the afternoon, alright?” He kisses Sarah’s temple before pulling Harry into a brotherly hug. “Y/N, it was so nice to meet you and thank you for everything again,” he smiles at you, enveloping you in a quick hug as well.

“See you soon,” you smile back before he waves his last goodbye and leaves. “Who’s James?” you ask curiously.

“James is our son. He is turning three this year,” Sarah beams proudly.

“Oh! You two already have a son, that’s great! I’ll make sure to snap a bunch of photos of him too,” you chuckle.

“Please, our house is already packed with pictures, but there’s just never enough,” Sarah laughs.

The three of you chat a little longer while Izzy is busy with her coloring, talking about the wedding and whatnot, Harry invites her and Mitch over for dinner sometime and she happily says yes before business is calling her so she heads out as well.

“Okay, come one, little Sunshine. Let’s get home, Rosaline will be over soon for your piano lesson,” you smile down at Izzy who throws all her coloring stuff into one of Harry’s drawers before hopping off the leather seat.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?” Harry leans down and kisses the top of her head before pressing his lips to her cheek as well.

“Bye daddy, have a good day!” she calls out, grabbing your hand as you head to the door, Harry following behind.

“Mr. Styles, you have a meeting in five with—“ one of the assistants speaks up, but Harry stops her.

“I know, tell him I’ll be down in a minute. And please call Isaac to remind him about his deadline tomorrow,” he asks in that voice again you heard yesterday when Sarah called. There’s just something so intimidating yet exciting in the way he bosses around, but not like an asshole. He is a man in power, but he surely knows how to use it for the good.

“I forgot to talk to you about the time Izzy is spending at my mum’s, please remind me to go over it with you tonight, alright?” Harry asks and you nod as the elevator’s door opens and the two of you walk in.

“Bye daddy!” Izzy waves at him.

“Bye baby, be good! Bye Y/N!” he smiles as the door starts to close.

“See you later,” you smile back before he disappears from your sight.

The meeting with Sarah and Mitch got you buzzing, because it’s gonna be such an intimate yet beautiful wedding and those are your favorite. You can’t wait to start snapping the pictures and make their memories last forever of their big day.

You want to say thank you to Harry for suggesting you to them, so while Izzy is with Rosaline, you make a quick round to the grocery store and get everything you need to make some cupcakes, knowing well Harry loves those. He once told you that he could easily eat a dozen of those if he had the chance, so you think it’s gonna be the perfect way to thank him.

You keep the usual schedule, but after your little learning session in the afternoon, instead of heading out to the backyard to play, you suggest you bake the cupcakes together and Izzy is more than happy to help you.

It doesn’t take long for the kitchen to turn into a warzone, ingredients spilled to the counter all over the place, some music is playing in the background and you’ve been struggling to figure out how to use the different machines around the super modern kitchen.

You go all out with the decorations, you even bought some food coloring so you can make the cupcakes different colors and mess around with the icing and cream as well. You get so busy with the task on hand that time flies by faster than you expected. The two of you are still working on the decorating when the front door opens and Harry walks into the mess you’ve created in the past hours.

“What is doing on here?” he chuckles, seeing Izzy’s hair covered in flour, whipped cream on her nose and cheeks as she is throwing some sprinkles on one of the cupcakes, sitting on the kitchen island counter while you are finishing up another one.

“Oh! I wanted it to be a surprise!” you pout. “Izzy and I are making you cupcakes!”

“Why do I deserve a surprise?” he asks smirking, walking farther into the kitchen as he looks around, finding the mess quite amusing, rather than annoying. Harry knows well enough that it’s not easy to keep the place around you clean when there are kids involved in any process.

“I wanted to thank you for suggesting me to Sarah and Mitch. It was really nice of you.”

“Already told you it was nothing. Of course I suggest them a good photographer if I know one.”

You just smile at him shrugging, because no matter how hard he is trying to play it down, it meant a lot to you.

“Look daddy!” Izzy holds up her cupcake, half of it is covered with sprinkles, the other half is decorated with chocolate chips and she is clearly proud of it.

“That looks great, baby!” he smiles proudly, kissing the top of her head. “You have so much stuff on you, you could easily turn into a cupcake too,” he jokes, making her laugh.

“Be a cupcake with me, daddy!” Izzy beams and before Harry could stop her, she wipes some whipped cream to his face, getting him dirty as well. You gasp before letting out a laugh, Izzy shrieks happily seeing her dad all dressed up fancily and licking the cream off his face.

“Isabelle Styles, you have no idea what you just brought on yourself,” he warns in a low tone, already making Izzy scoot backwards as she is trying to escape, but she doesn’t have anywhere to go, the kitchen island’s edge is right behind her butt. However, she doesn’t realize it and tries to push herself back some more, deeming herself to fall right off, but before anything could happen Harry scoops her into his arms, pressing his creamy face to her cheek, making an even bigger mess that’s already there. Izzy is moving around, laughing and screaming as Harry gets some more cream to his hands, wiping it onto her anywhere he can.

“Oh my God, you are wasting all the cream!” you call him out, but it’s such a sweet moment to witness, you would never blame him for wasting it.

Harry stops attacking Izzy and turns to you with a dark look in his eyes.

“Izzy, I think Y/N looks too clean, doesn’t she?” he cocks his head to the side, exchanging a look with the girl in his arms.

“She does!” Izzy agrees as you start backing away from them. Harry sets Izzy down to her feet, grabbing the bowl with the remaining of the cream. He gets a handful for himself and lets Izzy fill her palms as well.

“Oh no, don’t you dare!” you warn them, holding up your pointing finger at them, trying to escape, but you are kind of cornered against the counter.

“It’s my house, I do whatever I want to,” he smirks, so full of himself and in a blink of the eye, they both launch themselves at you and Hell breaks loose.

They start whipping cream on you anywhere they can and when it’s gone, Harry just decides to go for anything else he can reach. Izzy is throwing sprinkles around while thanks to Harry, flour is flying everywhere, completely destroying the kitchen.

“Stop! No! I surrender!” you scream, fighting back, but it’s two against one.

“No mercy!” Harry shouts, so excited, as if he just transformed into a little boy, throwing mud around.

You grab his wrists when he tries to pour sugar on top of your head straight from the contained, holding him back, but he is so much stronger than you, it’s kind of a lost fight already. You don’t even realize how close he is, your chests are almost touching as he has you pinned against the counter, faces only about two inches away from each other. His wrist slides out of your hold, but he drops the sugar to the counter next to you. You try to snatch it to use his own weapon against him, but he is quick to stop you, forcing your hand down next to your side, but in the process he managed to bring you even closer, flushed against his hard chest and your lips part at the sudden mood change that he must be feeling as well, because the playfulness disappears from his eyes pretty fast and it’s replaced by something entirely different, something you can’t even read, because you haven’t seen it in his eyes before. And then…

Then you see his eyes flicker down to your lips, just a moment before yours move down to his. It’s that moment. It’s that exact moment when you just know you both are thinking about kissing, but you don’t know if it’s going to happen or now. You’re not even sure you want it to happen.

You fucking moron, of course you want to kiss him! That tiny voice in the back of your mind screams at you. In a heartbeat, it seems like he is about to move closer, but then the moment is interrupted and completely destroyed when a woman walks into the house, scaring you to death.

“Wow, it seems like Izzy took over control completely,” she comments, walking further into the house as you jump away from Harry, suddenly very aware of the mess you’ve made.

“Gemma, what—“ Harry starts, but he is quickly cut off.

“Don’t ask what I’m doing here, I literally texted you today that I would come by and you said it’s okay.” She gives him a look before her eyes move over to you as you’re trying to somehow clean everything up, but it’ll take a little longer probably. “You must be Y/N, hi! I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

She steps over to you holding out a hand and you reach for it, but then stop, seeing that your palms are all floury. You both let out a chuckle, deciding to just move over the handshake.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, though it would have been better if we met when I didn’t have whipped cream in my eyes,” you joke.

“Auntie Gemma, we made cupcakes, do you want one?” Izzy runs up to her, holding up a cupcake that was finished, unlike the majority that are going to have poor decorations, since Harry and Izzy decided to use everything in the fight. Now it’s the floor that’s covered with icing, cream and sprinkles.

“Maybe later, sweetie, but they look awesome!”

As you wipe your face with a kitchen towel, you can feel Harry’s gaze on you, your heart beating so fast in your chest, it’s pushing all the blood up into your head that’s already feeling dizzy. What would have happened if Gemma didn’t walk in? Would has he kissed you? Or did you misread the situation and it was nothing just part of the game?

You busy yourself with cleaning up as Harry cleans himself a little with a paper towel before stepping closer to his sister.

“I totally forgot you texted, I replied in the middle of a meeting, I think I didn’t process the message.”

“It’s fine,” Gemma sighs. “I’m already used to my little brother forgetting about me,” she teases him, but he just rolls his eyes at her.

“Let me just help Y/N clean up the kitchen and I’ll be right with you. Would you mind cleaning Izzy off?” Harry asks her, but you stop him short.

“Oh, I’ll take care of this, don’t worry,” you assure him, but as his eyes snap over at you, you lose your voice. He clearly felt the moment as well earlier and now it’s kind of getting awkward, you don’t really want to be left alone with him right now. Not until you figure out what this whole thing was.

“Are you sure? I mean I was the one who started it and—“

“It’s fine,” you try your best to smile at him without overheating. He is standing several feet away from you, but you can still feel what it felt like to be pushed up against him.

Harry hesitates, his eyes following your every move while you are trying to busy yourself and act normal, while you are literally crumbling inside. You almost kissed your boss in the middle of his kitchen, you need a moment to process that.

“Alright, let me know if you need help,” he murmurs before picking Izzy up and heading upstairs to clean them both, Gemma following them right behind. When they are out of your sight, you lean against the counter, breathing out heavily.

Meanwhile upstairs, Harry hands Izzy his phone to play some games while he cleans her and himself off in the bathroom. Gemma sits on the edge of the tub, eyeing her brother curiously, which Harry notices.

“What?” he asks, stripping Izzy out of her dirty clothes.

“What was all that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you, Harry. You were like, ready to snog Y/N right then and there when I walked in. Did I miss something?”

“No idea what you’re talking about and I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up when it’s not just the two of us,” he replies firmly, looking down at the girl who is obliviously tapping on the screen. Gemma just rolls her eyes before leaving the two of them alone.

Wandering down she finds you scrubbing the counters from the mess you’ve made, deep in your thoughts. Seeing her walk in, you shoot her a smile, not sure what to say or if you even should say anything, but when she grabs a towel for herself and starts helping, you speak up.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m happy to help,” she smiles, as she starts cleaning the kitchen island up. “So how do you like working for my brother, so far? He mentioned what happened with the daycare. Honestly, those mothers are entitled spoiled brats,” she scoffs making you smile.

“They weren’t too delightful even before the whole fiasco,” you chuckle softly. “But I really like it here. There are a lot more perks and it’s so much easier to focus on one kid than to have fifteen at a time,” you point out making her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m good with my two, don’t think I could handle more.”

“Oh, you have kids?”

“Yes, two sons. Beau is turning ten this year and Jasper turned six in January.” Gemma pulls out her phone from her back pocket and unlocking it she shows you the homescreen that has a picture of two adorable boys sitting on a bench next to each other, munching on a big bowl of strawberries. The younger one, Jasper has a red sunhat on his head while Beau is rocking some cool sunglasses.

“Oh my God, they look so much like you!”

“I get that a lot and honestly, they really should!” Gemma scoffs. “It took twenty fucking hours for Jasper’s big head to come out!”

“Wow that sounds way too much,” you laugh and Gemma nods with a tired, but clearly proud smile.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. Anyway, after my two boys, Izzy is the little princess of the family.”

“The boys get along well with her?” you ask as you both keep cleaning.

“They act like her big brothers, they get so protective over her!”

“That’s cute.”

“Yeah, they really are. My mom has this summer barbeque every year, if Harry doesn’t invite you with him then I’m doing it now, because you need to see how crazy out family gets,” she smirks at you. “All of our cousins and the kids are there, it’s a whole parade.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot of fun,” you smile at her. “One of my friends in high school had a really big family and they always invited me to birthdays at their place, I loved how lively and buzzing it was always.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to get together from time to time,” she nods smiling. “So do you have a boyfriend or something?” she asks then, implying that she is not even sure if you are playing on the team she is assuming.

“Oh, um, no. It’s just me for now. So no boyfriend for me.” Your answer, making sure it gives her the information she was trying to get as well.

“Are you done interrogating her, Gem?” Harry appears from upstairs, Izzy running ahead of him before smashing herself against Gemma’s legs.

“We’re just having a chat, is that a crime now?” she rolls her eyes. “Swear to God, he is such a control freak sometimes,” she then adds turning to you.

“Would you stop offending me in my own house?” Harry gives him a look. Gemma leans down and picks Izzy up into her arms.

“Izzy, you really should tell your dad to pull the stick out of his as—“

“You are not finishing that!” Harry cuts her off and you can’t push your laughter back. Harry’s eyes meet yours over Gemma’s shoulders and he realizes that you are still all dirty and messed up. “Y/N, go and take a shower if you want. We’ll take this over, alright?”

It wasn’t an order, but you feel like it was a very firm suggestion. He is clearly uncomfortable with you talking to Gemma and though you’re not sure why, you don’t want to upset him, so just nodding you drop the kitchen towel and head upstairs to clean yourself up.

“I hope you didn’t say anything to upset her,” Harry comments as he takes over the cleaning. Gemma grimaces.

“What could have I possibly said? I was just trying to get to know her!”

“You are always a little too up in my business, Gems,” he sighs.

“Daddy, can I watch some TV, please?” Izzy asks, tugging on his pants.

“Sure. Do you need me to switch it on?”

“No, I’m a big girl, I can do it,” Izzy nods before running off, leaving the siblings alone.

“Didn’t know Y/N was your business,” Gemma tilts her head to the side. Harry opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. He was caught with this one. “Oh my God. I knew I walked in on something, you have a thing for her!” Gemma gasps with wide eyes.

“Stop with this! You and Niall are like some middle schoolers, it’s so fucking annoying!”

“So Niall sees it too, huh?”

“Niall is an idiot,” he points out. “He is… obsessed with this idea that I should start dating again and he thinks I should make a move on Y/N.”

“Well, he is an idiot, but he has a point.”

“No he doesn’t!” Harry argues, but Gemma just rolls her eyes.

“So you want to die alone? Is that your plan?”

Harry has always hated his sister’s bluntness. She never held herself back when it came to giving her opinion, whether it was wanted or not. But what Harry hates even more is that most of the time… Gemma is right.

He doesn’t want to die alone, no one wants that, but being with someone is a hard topic for Harry after losing the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. Even just the thought makes him feel like he is doing something bad, like he shouldn’t even be thinking about anyone but his wife, even years after the tragedy.

“Harry, look…” Gemma breathes out leaning against the counter next to her brother. “I know it’s a fucked up situation and I know things are still not in the right place in your head. But eventually you’ll have to move on. We all want to see you happy and I think that… I think Maggie would want that for you as well.”

Harry tries not to physically cringe at the name, the familiar pain is already clutching his heart, like it has been since the day of the accident. Some days are easier, some days are harder, but Gemma is right. Things are still not in the right place in his head and he knows that, he is just not sure how to fix it at this point.

“I’m not saying you should date Y/N, I’m not Niall to force anyone on you. I’m just telling you to try to get out a little more, just to test the waters. But you obviously like her so if it happens to be her, it wouldn’t be a big deal, if you ask me.”

Gemma shrugs and goes back to the cleaning while Harry keeps his swirling thoughts to himself. Two of the most important people have told him the same thing recently and though part of him wants to stubbornly go against it, his rational side knows that they might be right.

But not much can be done when a man is still blaming himself for the death of his own wife. Because that’s exactly the case when it comes to Harry and no one really knows that the thought has been haunting him for years now…

After taking a quick shower, washing your hair and changing into clothes that are not covered in flour, you join Harry and Gemma downstairs and insist on finishing the rest of the cleaning while they move out to the terrace to talk. The evening goes by peacefully, Harry decides to order dinner and Gemma joins the three of you at the dining table.

You love watching the dynamic between them and they truly seem to be very close. Gemma likes to embarrass Harry with stories from their childhood and you are enjoying them all a little too much maybe, but it’s nice to think that he wasn’t always this confident businessman.

“It was so good to meet you, Y/N!” Gemma hugs you goodbye after dinner.

“You too!”

“Bye Izzy, come and give a smooch for your favorite auntie!” Squatting down she lets Izzy wrap her arms around her neck as she kisses her cheek sloppily.

“Bye Gemma,” she singsongs. Harry pulls his sister into a hug as well before walking her out.

You start washing the dishes, Izzy talking to you about whatever show she was watching earlier on TV. When Harry returns he tells you to just leave the rest of the cleaning up for him while he bathes Izzy, but you don’t listen to him and finish up while they are upstairs.

Bringing your laptop down you settle on the couch and just start scrolling through social media, reading articles and whatnot, the TV quietly playing in the background. You send out an email regarding the wedding you are attending this weekend, making sure everything is in place.

When Harry emerges again he joins you on the couch with a tired sigh.

“Thanks for washing the dishes but you really should just leave it to me when I ask you to,” he smiles at you softly.

“It’s not a big deal, I like to be useful,” you chuckle shutting your laptop down.

“As if you’re not useful enough already,” he huffs smiling to himself. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to talk to you about Izzy going to my mum’s.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned it earlier.”

“Yeah. So she is going to spend a week at my mother’s and I timed it to line up with Sarah and Mitch’s wedding. So I’ll leave her at my mum’s Sunday evening and pick her up the next Sunday which lines up perfectly with the wedding on Saturday. That week is obviously free for you as well, like a paid vacation,” he chuckles.

“Sounds good. How far does your mother lives from here?”

“Just a few hours, not that horrible of a drive. If you’re up for it, we can carpool to the wedding and then pick her up together right from there and head home.”

“Yeah, that works for me, thanks,” you nod.

Harry stays and turns his attention on the TV, seemingly pretty unbothered while you still haven’t stopped thinking about what happened in the kitchen earlier. Glancing over at Harry it appears that it’s not that big of a deal for him, so it makes you settle with the thought that it’s not one for you either.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him grabbing your laptop and phone as you rise from your seat.

“Nigh, Y/N,” he smiles as you round the couch and head upstairs, but you stop at the bottom of the stairs, lancing back at the mop of locks that’s visible from him from behind. You watch him run his fingers through his hair and you let out a shaky breath, knowing well you did not convince yourself that it was nothing. Not for you, at least.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

The wedding you’re attending is held on a farm owned by the parents of the bride. The whole barn was transformed into this very country like fairytale location, lots of fairy lights and candles along with some nice, pastel colored flowers with a hint of purple between them.

Everything goes planned. Arriving you meet first with the groom and then with the bride in their separated rooms of the house, going over everything they want just one last time before you get down to work, snapping loads of pictures from them getting ready for the big day.

Emily, the bride is a chatty girl and all her bridesmaids are her sisters, coming from a big family with five daughters, she is the second oldest. The groom, Jesse is a few years older than Emily, but they are such a cute couple and they are clearly so madly in love, it’s always nice to see people be so happy with the right person.

You keep going back and forth between the groom and the bride and later you do the first look thing as well, when Jesse stands outside in the field and Emily walks up behind him, letting him see her for the first time. It really is always such a special moment and you tear up as well, watching Jesse fall speechless upon seeing his beautiful fiancé.

As the ceremony is about to start and the guests slowly take their seats on the two sides of the aisle, you make a quick trip down there to make sure you are using the right lenses, not wanting to change a lot when the ceremony has started. You stop in the corner, just trying out if you can shoot some pictures of the guests as well with the lens you are planning to use, you take a look around using the camera and that’s when you almost faint.

You would pick out that face from any, it has grown to you way too much, but you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. Lowering the camera you stare at the tall figure with parted lips, blinking a few times just to make sure it’s who you think it is.

But it is in fact your ex-fiancé, Keith, and to make it even worse, the woman standing next to him with his arm around her waist is the one he cheated on you with. They are still together and now you are staring right at them.

Tears sting your eyes as you try to look for a way to escape before he spots you, though you know he’ll see you sooner or later, but right now they are standing right at the entrance of the barn and you can’t avoid walking past them.

Keeping your head down you try to stay unnoticed as you march towards the exit, but you apparently, you are out of luck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Keith calls after you just when you thought you were successful in sneaking out. Stopping in your tracks you seriously think about just running off, pretending like you didn’t even hear him, but it’s kind of too late and it would be ridiculous. So turning around on your heels, you plaster the fakest smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Keith, hi!” you breathe out, taking just a few steps closer to him, still keeping some distance between the two of you. Stella, the lucky woman on his arm blinks at you and at first you’re not even sure she realizes who you are or if she even knows you. The longer she looks at you the more certain you become that she indeed does not know that you’re the woman Keith cheated on with her. Nice.

Keith realizes that the two of you have been staring at each other awkwardly, so clearing his throat he quickly introduces the two of you to each other.

“Um, Y/N, this is Stella. Stella, this is… Y/N.”

You can tell he was thinking about using titles, but he decided to leave it at that, though it would have been a lot more interesting if he just titled the two of you.

Y/N, this is the woman I cheated on you with, who is my girlfriend now. Stella, this is Y/N, to whom I was engaged when I was fucking you!

You flash her a quick, not too honest smile and it seems like she is catching onto that something is not right, but she can’t tell for sure.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, a little harsher than you would have liked him to talk to you, but it’s kind of understandable. Seeing each other after what happened is not a pleasant experience for either of you, you assume. You hold up the camera as the answer for the stupid question and Keith furrows his eyebrows at you. “Oh, you still to the photography thingy?”

“Thingy?” you ask, quite offended. Keith always belittled your love for photography. He thought it was just a hobby, something that should stay just a hobby and not get turned into anything more. He once told you during a fight that it takes your time away from more important things, like doing chores. That was one of the most sexist things he has ever said to you and you should have packed your stuff right then and there. But you didn’t, stuck around for three more months before you found out about the cheating.

“Well, this thingy is kind of a side job for me,” you inform him.

“Oh. That sounds… fun,” he nods, but it’s clearer than daylight that he thinks it’s just a waste of time. Good thing he has no business in anything about you anymore.

“Um, I’m gonna go now, but I guess see you two around.” You shoot them another fake smile before turning around and walking away from this conversation straight from Hell.

Marching away from the barn you rush into the nearest bathroom you can find. You need a minute. Or maybe two… five. This did not just happen. You didn’t just face your cheating ex-fiancé with the woman he cheated on you, what kind of sick movie plot is this you found yourself in?

Placing your camera to the counter near the sink you wash your hands and sprinkle some water to your face as well before you lean to the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost and quite frankly, you would have been happier with the ghost than with Keith and Stella.

You’ve been doing alright since the breakup, but it’s obvious that only because you didn’t have to see Keith. Following the blowup when you found the explicit texts in his phone, you only had to face him twice and never since then. It’s easier to be okay when you don’t have to look at the person who hurt you most all the time, but coming face to face with him now really threw you off, especially with Stella on his arm. The fucker did not only cheat on you with her, but he went straight into a relationship with her and she probably doesn’t even know that she was just the sidechick in the beginning. If you were really evil, you’d go up to her and enlighten her about who you really are, but you are not one to cause a scene. Keith kept the two of you apart consciously, he never let you go into his office because he wanted Stella to think that he is a single man while he was engaged. Sickening to think how slyly he played the both of you and even after his little plan failed, he kept lying to the poor girl and lured her into a relationship. You wonder if he is already fucking another girl behind her back.

Your fingers start to turn white, gripping the edge of the sink tightly so you loosen up a bit, shaking your arms and shoulders off to pull yourself together. You fix your makeup and run your fingers through your hair quickly to give it some volume before grabbing the camera from the counter and heading out. However shocking it is to be at the same place as Keith again, you have a job to do right now and the bride and groom are expecting some amazing photos and that’s exactly what you’re gonna deliver.

You manage to busy yourself to the point where you are able to forget about Keith’s existence for most of the time. Following the happy couple around you don’t get too much free time, the camera is glued in front of your face basically and it brings you some peace. For a while.

Emily and Jesse disappear for an outfit change and it gives you a short break since they didn’t want that to be photographed, only when they return. So you get yourself a virgin cocktail from the bar and head outside to get some fresh air. You text back Heather and Trevor and then just scroll through Instagram, enjoying some alone time from the buzzing you’ve been around all day.

“Y/N!”

Turning to your right you spot Keith walking towards you, this time alone, but it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes.

“What do you want?” you mumble under your breath.

“Just… though we could chat for a little. It’s been a long time.”

“Not enough,” you retort. “And I would like to skip the chatting.”

“Come on, you can’t be still that mad at me,” he chuckles and you almost punch him in the face right then and there.

“Well I am. So go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone.”

“I know things didn’t end too well, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil towards each other.” You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your throat. He can’t be serious, trying to act like the bigger person now after everything he has done to you. This has got to be a joke.

“This is me being civil, because I’m not throwing anything at you. So leave me the fuck alone, let me do my job and then we hopefully don’t see each other again.”

“Come on. You don’t miss me, baby?” he smirks at you, completely ignoring what you just told him. You physically cringe at the pet name he just called you and you take a step away from him, needing the distance more than ever.

“I don’t. Now leave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too fucking bad. Now leave!” you raise your voice, but it does nothing. He is still standing there, looking at you like he didn’t completely destroy you just about a year ago.

“Heard that you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up.”

“Are you asking around after me?” you scowl.

“We have a few mutual friends,” he shrugs. “Is it because you still want me?”

“My dating life is none of your business, Keith. And I don’t want you. Quite frankly, I don’t even know how I could ever want you, so now please let me enjoy my break and leave me alone.”

“Y/N, I just—“ Keith reaches for your hand, but you pull back before he could touch you, holding up a finger at him you start talking slowly and very clearly so the message goes through.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me or talk to me. I want nothing to do with you, you’re a manipulating, cheating, egoistic asshole who ruins the life of others. I’m telling you this for the last time, Keith: leave me the fuck alone.”

He looks a bit stunned at your harsh response, but you couldn’t care less if you’ve hurt him. He did way worse things to you than snapping at you. As you walk past him to head back into the barn, he doesn’t let the chance to punch you in the stomach with his words one last time.

“I wish I could say you were a good fuck, but that wouldn’t be true. Good luck finding some lowlife loser who would even think about marrying you!”

Every fiber in your body is screaming to launch yourself at him and punch him until he is unconscious, because that’s exactly what he deserves. The tears are already stinging your eyes, but you don’t give him the satisfaction to see you react to his words. So swallowing hard you just keep on walking until you are out of his sight, bottling up the sobs and tears for the time when you’re home and on your own.

It’s past two am when you arrive home, drained and exhausted, both emotionally and exhausted. Following the conversation you had wit Keith he didn’t try to talk to you anymore, but you could always feel his eyes on you, wherever you were, as if he wanted to see if you are watching him too, but you weren’t. Looking at him would have been too painful so you tried your best to keep your eyes away from him through the night.

You know damn well that what he told you when you were leaving was just to get a reaction out of you, to get you upset enough to start a fight with him, it’s just who he is, he enjoys having the last word and the higher ground in every situation, but you didn’t want to be his partner in his stupid games this time. However it still hurt, what he said.

Walking into the dead silent house you kick your shoes off, drop your keys into the little bowl next to the door and head to the kitchen to get yourself some water. Pouring yourself a glass you lean against the counter and as you stare ahead of you, nothing can stop the tears from falling.

Everything you kept bottled up during the afternoon and evening just hits you all at once, making you break down heavier than any time in the past months. You sob and cry, letting it all out until your head feels like exploding, but you still can’t stop. You were not ready to face the man that broke your heart like no one before.

In the middle of your breakdown you don’t even realize the footsteps coming from the stairs.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice calls out, snapping you out of your pity party. He immediately sees that you’ve been crying like a baby, no doubt, but you still try to wipe your cheeks and eyes, pretending like everything is totally fine.

“Harry! What are you doing up so late?” you breathe out hoarsely.

“Just wanted to get some water, but have you been crying? What happened, are you alright?” he starts bombarding you with questions, clearly worried about you, seeing you in this state.

“Everything is fine, I just… had a rough night,” you chuckle through your tears that are still rolling down your cheeks, those bastards!

“A rough night doesn’t make you sob like this. What happened?” Rounding the kitchen island he stops in front of you, not sure how to approach the situation, but it’s kind of sweet how he wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“I, uhh—I met my… ex-fiancé tonight. He was at the wedding I worked at,” you mumble shutting your eyes closed.

“Did he hurt you? Y/N, if he laid a hand on you, I swear—“ “No, he didn’t hurt me,” you shake your head before adding: “Well, not physically.”

“Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the couch in the living room, making you sit before he plops down next to you. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s really stupid, I shouldn’t be this upset about it, but I just… It hurt and I can’t change it,” you whine, wiping some more tears away.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Tell me what happened!”

“He was there with the woman he cheated on me with. They are basically a couple now, but she doesn’t even know that Keith was engaged to me when they started dating, so it’s really fucked up. And it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, because, you know, fuck him, he can do whatever he wants, it’s not my business anymore, but then he came up to me and tried to chitchat with me, which I didn’t really want, of course.”

Harry listens carefully, giving you his undivided attention while you fumble with the hem of your shirt, kind of avoiding to look him in the eyes. Part of you is afraid you’d see judgment in them and you don’t think you would be able to handle that.

“I asked him to leave me alone, but he just kept talking and then I snapped at him a little harsher and when I was walking away he…”

You scowl again, hearing his words play in your head so clearly, as if he was standing behind you, repeating them to you. Harry reaches out and he gently covers your hand with his warm palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he is patiently waiting, not rushing you to talk. Taking a deep breath you blink your tears away before continuing.

“He basically said that I wasn’t even a good fuck and no man will want to marry me.”

“Jesus fuck, what kind of asshole did you date, Y/N?” Harry snaps in horror and it’s kinda funny, makes you laugh through your tears.

“Seems like the worst kind,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. “I know I shouldn’t have let his words get to my head, but… it’s easier said than done. I feel like such a loser,” you breathe out, your lips trembling as the tears are threatening to flow again.

“Don’t blame yourself for having feelings, it’s completely normal. Of course his words hurt, he once meant a lot to you and he probably knows that too, that’s why he tried to use it against you. What he said held no truth.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper as you finally look at him. His green irises appear so warm as he smiles at you, squeezing your hand again. He scoots a little closer, his knee bumping against the side of your thigh.

“Y/N, I know so,” he chuckles. “That guy was a proper idiot for what he did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that and any many would be lucky to have you as their wife.”

“Really?” you pout, feeling so touched and loved from his words. It’s exactly the reassurance you needed.

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling sweetly.

Everything that happened today messed with your head big time. And now sitting with Harry on the couch, listening to him telling you how worthy you are of love and happiness, it completely throws you off. Ever since that moment in the kitchen before Gemma walked in, you’ve been nonstop thinking about what would have happened and it made you notice even the tiniest things about him.

Harry Styles is a man who is clearly a sight for the eyes, with his chiseled jawline, pink lips and gorgeous green eyes, the duality of his powerful and business appropriate attires he wears during the day and the tattoos hidden under his dress shirts, you’d have to be blind to say that he is not an attractive man. But on top of everything on the outside, he is a wonderful person on the inside and it twists your head more than you’d like it.

Your brain switches off for a moment, or just the rational side, but you completely stop thinking as you stare at each other. The intimacy and emotionality of the moment pushes all your common sense to the side as your gaze wanders down his lips.

The thought of kissing him comes fast and before you could even stop yourself, you move forward and press your lips to his. The touch of his lips against yours is sweet and warm and kind of intoxicating, but in just a blink of the eye your rationality gets a grip of you and your eyes pop open in realization of what you just did. Pulling back you gasp and cover your mouth in shock, feeling your whole inside trembling at the thought of getting yourself fired by this move.

Harry seems frozen and quite shocked as well, his lips are parted as he stays still in his spot.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what’s gotten into me! Harry, I’m sorry, I promise—“

You start rambling in panic, but you don’t get to finish. Harry moves forward, his hand coming to the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss, this time making it a lot more passionate and even your tongues get involved. He is kissing you hard and you almost moan into his mouth when you feel his other hand come to your thigh, squeezing it just enough to send a shockwave up your spine. Your hands come up to the back of his hair and you hold onto him for dear life, carrying the kiss on like you’re two teenagers in your parents’ basement, doomed to get caught any moment. Harry goes in again and again, tugging on your bottom lip, licking into your mouth and making your insides twist just from having his lips on yours.

And then you both let go of each other, needing some time to breathe and you slowly realize what just happened. You both stare at each other in disbelief, completely shocked at your own actions, but neither of you have any idea what should happen next.

You let go of each other, sitting back to your normal positions, awkwardly breathing heavily and you realize you cannot deal with this right now. You are way too drained and tired to make it make sense so you decide to just… call it a night.

“I’ll head to bed,” you quietly inform him as you stand up from the couch, walking like a zombie, the shock still clouding your judgment.

“Good night,” Harry mumbles, just as confused as you are.

“Good night,” you nod and basically sprint up the stairs and don’t stop until you shut your door behind you.

Leaning your back against it, you slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare into the darkness for long minutes. Quite some time passes by before you hear Harry walk upstairs, his door opens and then closes before silence falls on the house again. With a blank mind, you push yourself up, take a quick shower and just go to bed, ignoring everything that has happened today. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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x-reader-theater · 3 years

Note

Ok this might be a strange one but hear me out,, some royal or just crazy super rich persons son has been kidnapped (the reader) and the team finds him!! ok ok but its continues,, they found the reader but not the unsub just yet so they have to interview the reader and meaby something happens between Spency and the reader OR 'Hot'ch and the reader?? nothing too spicy but cutesy feelings and kissies (unless you want some 🌶🌶 in there which im not complaining about ;) )

There's not gonna be any sex because the reader just went through a VERY traumatic experience, and that's not healthy. Also going with Spencer because I got a cute idea and I think it would be better with Spencer. Also, the whole Lila Archer situation just reminded me of this. @mystic-writes edited this for me even with the million mistakes I made because I wrote it very late at night on my phone loll

"What happened?" Mrs. [L/N] asks, clutching at her necklace as the live feed of you tied to a chair goes dark.

"The unsub must have realized we're getting close," Hotch growls out, and Mr. [L/N] holds onto his wife while they both cry.

Spencer rushes into the room holding a map and places it on the table next to the blacked out computer screen.

"I think I found where he's being held. There's a warehouse district not far from here, and the only empty one, with help from Garcia, is this one," he says, circling one of the warehouses shown on the map.

Hotch nods. "Good work. Get everyone together, we're going in five. Morgan, get swat on the phone."

Morgan nods and Spencer leaves the group, going to exit the house when someone tugs on his sleeve.

He stops and turns around, crouching down to find your little sister, Anna, standing in front of him holding a toy bunny. "Are you going to find my brother?" she asks.

Spencer nods. "I hope so."

Anna smiles. "When you see him, could you give him this?"

She leans up and kisses his cheek lightly. Spencer flushes a bright red and Anna giggles. "S-sure," Spencer says before getting up and practically sprinting out of the house.

–

You sigh in relief as you hear the multitude of footsteps and someone call out, "FBI!"

"He's not here!" you exclaim, though you can't see where the footsteps are coming from with the blindfold on your face. You feel someone untying the blindfold at the back of your head, and you say, "He left when he realized how close you were to finding me."

"Are you hurt?" someone asks. When the blindfold slips off, you're face to face with a very handsome young man, his hair cut short, a tactical vest pulled tight around his lithe body.

Your hands are released and you shake your head. "No. He barely touched me. I'm fine," you say, and the man frowns at you. You sigh. "I swear. You don't even need to get the paramedics to look at me. He didn't even lay a hand on my head."

The man nods and says, "My name is Doctor Reid. I need to ask you a few questions about your captor."

"Can we go back to my apartment first? I really need a good, long shower," you say, and Dr. Reid looks over at an older man with dark brown hair and eyes, who nods minutely.

"I'll drive you there," Dr. Reid says and you smile appreciatively.

When Spencer pulls up to your apartment complex and you hit the button for the top floor after inserting a spare key you got at the front desk, Spencer realizes your apartment isn't an apartment; It's a penthouse.

It's impeccably decorated with high-end furniture, and plants on every surface, all looking a little too green. Upon closer inspection, Spencer can see they're fake.

You leave him to go take your shower, only taking a couple minutes before you come back, jeans hanging low on your hip with no shirt on. Spencer swallows thickly and you sit down on one of the plush couches, a towel around your shoulders.

Dr. Reid sits uncomfortably in front of you on one of the matching chairs and asks, "Do you know who kidnapped you?"

You nod. "Mr. Garry Hardwick," you say.

"Your father's financial advisor?" Dr. Reid asks and you nod.

"He's been sexually harassing me since I was 11," you say, and Dr. Reid's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. "Why do you think I didn't want to see my parents? I told them when it first happened and they dismissed it."

"Your sister misses you," he says and you smile.

"I miss her too. I wish I could take her out of that home and put her in a real school, so she can make friends," you say.

"She asked me to give you something, when we found you," he says, and you notice he's blushing.

He gets up and you raise your eyebrows as he sits down next to you.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek.

You smirk, and turn, capturing Spencer's lips in yours, placing your hands on his cheeks lightly, not enough to force him, but enough to keep him steady. He leans into you, kissing you back.

He places a hand on your thigh and you gasp in surprise, allowing your mouth to be plundered by Spencer's tongue.

Spencer pulls away and coughs, but he doesn't move away from you, he just looks away. You smirk, but you don't force yourself on him, sitting next to him.

"I should tell everyone who's the unsub," Spencer says, clearing his throat. You smile, and kiss his cheek.

"I'm going to get dressed," you say, leaning over him. "So, they don't get any wrong ideas…" He blushes and you lean down, kissing him hotly one more time before walking away.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer read x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my work #my writing

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Play With Me

Request: hii can i request an nsfw of Leviathan and fem s/o with forced feminization and humiliation ( levi receiving) ??

Warnings: Light Humiliation, Usage of a Strap

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Echo from Bad Dragon is what I’m referencing!! I hope you like it!! I’ve been in a big er- power move lately!! Shigaraki will get one too so Gamer Simps, yall are getting fed these next few days!!

You stand in Leviathan’s room, the blue hue against your skin making you glow. You look at the bathtub, a frown on your lips. You have enjoyed doing this ordeal on something softer but a gaming chair will suffice. You’re sure those are soft and made for comfort given how long people must sit in them. You fix your strap, the cock in your hand feeling firm. Shadows move under the closet door. In the fish tank, a lone orange fish blinks at you before swimming away. Your face burns, the thought of a beloved pet watching what you’re about to do making you slightly embarrassed. The thought floats away as soon as it comes when the door creaks and out steps a demon clad in pink and frills.

Leviathan steps out of the closet in a revealing maid outfit. Your smile thins, glee coursing through your veins as he tries to pull down on the frilly fabric that wraps around his waist is laced at the ends with white, two white stain bows that pinch at the waist and pull the fabric together. The frilling hardly covers the beginning of his bulge hidden in pink panties decorated with lace at the edges and a white satin bow in the front. His chest is covered by a lacy bralette, his soft pink nipples peeking through the lacy fabric. Around his neck is a frilly collar, scrunched against his neck. He stares at the floor, hands bunched around the frills as he starts to leak at the tip of his cock.

“Already wet and hard, huh Levi?” You jest, your steps coming closer to him, the ends of your heel clacking against the tile in his room. “Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He nods his head, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he spins slowly, stopping until his bum is facing you. Against the tight underwear, a heart shape is pressed against the fabric. “Already prepped, I see.”

“Are you proud of me?” He asks, turning back around to face you, his steps coming closer to you. “I did a good job, right?” His smile is nervous, slowly becoming wide as he looks towards you for approval.

Your smile falls, a curl of your upper lip graces your features. You click your tongue in response, and roll your eyes. “So desperate for any amount of approval, hm?” You sigh, your shoulders slumping and gaze looking bored. “You reek of desperation, you filthy slut. Now hurry up and get on your knees.” He nods his head, walking closer to you until you stop him. “Ah, ah,” you lilt, wagging a finger in the air. “Crawl over to me. I want to see you work for my cock, okay?” You sit on Leviathan’s gaming chair, the leather cushioning your beck as you cross your legs.

The strap that rests is a soft blue and white mixed together. The tip is thick enough, the rest of the cock slowly expanding with a gentle curve and pushed against the lower base. A medial ring circles around the lower base, firm and expanding just before slimming down into a softer base. The strap circles around you, hugging at your hips as a smaller, and slender version of your cock rubs against your inner walls. You sit at his chair, barely able to contain your smile as Leviathan crawls towards you, his head held high as he keeps a heavy blush on his face.

“Beg for it,” you murmur when he rests at your feet.

“Please let me suck your cock. I’m gross and pervy and I need to have my throat filled with your cock. Please. I’m already leaking just by looking at it.” His voice cracks, a frown against his lips. He shifts his legs together, his hand going to clutch at the frills around his waist, his middle and ring finger extended to graze against the panties. You look down, his eyes glistening with tears and bottom lip trembling, and he gives you a look so pitiful it might have been cute if it weren’t on someone so disgusting. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be your dirty otaku if you let me.”

Satisfied enough, you nod your head and let out a sigh, you smile softening. “Get on your knees, Leviathan.” You lean against the back of the chair, your legs spreading as the strap bobs with the movement. Leviathan rises onto his knees, his warm breath against your inner thighs, his soft, dirty hands holding you tight at your thighs. The smaller toy moves inside of you, your walls conforming around the false cock, your face tightens, the soft curve of the cock hitting against your sweet spot. “You’re gonna suck my cock and you’re gonna make it good. Do you understand?” He nods his head, his tongue, a soft pink that fades into a darker blue, peeks out to wet his lips. You raise your leg, the point of your heel pressed against his shoulder. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer in response.” He mutters a quick yes under his breath, his face leaning closer to your cock. His pale skin is marked with red, an indent pressed against his shoulder.

His lips wet the head of the cock, the tip of it shining with spit. The soft blue and white cloud-like cock drips with his saliva. His cheeks are a deep red, tears filling his eyes only to spill out and curve past his cheeks. With each bob of his head, he gags, eyes filling with sweet tears as he buries himself into you. You’re sure that if you could feel the sensation of his mouth, that you’d be quick to release into his mouth but all you have for now is the slender cocktoy inside of you, rubbing so pitifully against your gummy walls. He presses himself close, cheeks flushed red and hands now moving to grip onto your thighs, his nails pressing into your skin and you’re too consumed by him to even care that he’s touching you. Even with the strap-on, he gives it his all, burying himself to the base of your cock, his cheeks hollowed and a hand slipping from your thigh to palm himself through the thin fabric of his panties.

“Okay,” you breathe out, a pool of saliva under your tongue, “get up and bend over.” You want as he rises, a tent in his underwear with the light pink now soiled by his own pre-ejaculate. He bends himself over his desk, his abdomen pressed against the edge of the desk, hands cushioned under his chin. Your hands trace over his hips, edging around the frills and lace and slowly pulling them off. The pink is now dark as it lines his cock. You press your lip against the base of his spine, his skin rising with goosebumps. Your name is muttered as your hands cusp his waits, grabbing at the hem of the underwear. His skin is pale, freckled with scales that begin to bud around his pubic area. He waits with bated breath, his hands curling and scraping against the desk. Amber eyes glance to the edge of the desk where it meets the wall, his figures watching him with an unblinking gaze as his underwear pools around his ankles. He looks away, raising his legs to step out of them carefully with his head lowered. He says something too low to be heard and he can’t be bothered to repeat himself.

You pull the heart plug out of him, his taint leaking with shining lube that spills out. Your hand curves over his bum, the fat of it soft under your palms. You’re quick to strike, hearing him yelp as red spreads around him. Your smile stretches thinner as your hand once again strikes him, red blooming across him as he whimpers, his legs tensing and muscles pulled taut. He counts under his breath, steadily and by the time he reaches twenty, his cock is erect, pressing against the desk as it dribbles out arousal.

You teeter at his rim, circling him with every breath, dipping a finger inside of him. It’s wet inside, thick, heavy cream that shines against your finger and he pushes himself out to you, a hand slipping to grab at his own rear. His nimble fingers press into the fat and he spreads himself. With only a loving touch against his wrist, you press your cock head against him and enter him slowly. You hiss as the toy inside of you rubs against your walls, edging deeper into you, pressed so firmly against your walls as the base of your toy presses deep inside of him. He coos, his back arching upwards and his hand faltering to the front of himself, wrapping around his cock and pumping it rapidly.

Your nails leave red crescents against his skin. He’s pitiful under you, needy and huffing like a bitch in heat. Your hands grip onto him tightly, brows furrowed and the creases deep. Sweat beads at your brow and despite his noises of pleasure, it still isn’t enough.

His head is pulled back, your hands knitted into his purple hair, pulling him backwards. He lets out a yelp- more out of shock rather than pain given how his lips almost upturn into a smile. “Are you actually enjoying this?” You spit out, slapping your hips into his rear, tightening your hold on his hair. Anger seeps into you, your words holding more poison. You aren’t sure if you’re angry out of embarrassment at the lack of true power that you have over him, or if it’s anger disguised as lust, so desperate to hear his moans that you’re willing to call him anything vile as long as he shows you his pleasure. “You’re fucking slut, Leviathan.” You curse at yourself. You’re unable to find anything truly original.

“More,” he gasps out, leaning forward, his hair pulled further. “More, please,” he says in a high pitched voice. “I’m a slut, just fuck me, please.” His hand pumps himself, the clicking in the room becoming sharper the longer he continues.

Your cunt leaks, dripping onto your inner thighs. Your other hand hooks into his mouth, brows furrowing as his teeth scratch the outside of your finger. “Third-fucking-powerful,” you hiss out, slamming into him. “All you are is a bitch in heat, begging and pushing your ass deeper onto my cock. You’re dressed in pink and frills-” your hips still, burying yourself deep into him, and you think you can feel his muscles twitching around you- “dressed like a whore and clenching on my cock like one.” He mumbles around your fingers, drool slipping past his lips and onto his chin. “How cute, you’ve resorted to babbling. Are you so desperate for cock that you’ve lost all sense of communication? Hm?” Your lip curls, your hips pulling out till the tip remains inside and you push back inside of him. “You’re pathetic Leviathan- so horrid that I’ll have to go and wash myself to rid myself of you and your stench but damn, you make for a good fuck.” You lean close to him, your breath faint against him. “Much better than the others, at least.” He goes rigid, his body tensing and he cries out your name- broken and full of cries. It’s repeated until it’s a whisper, your own name foreign to your ears.

You pull out of him, your face flushed and heart racing as you stare at the demon below you. He’s limp, legs spread as semen runs down his thigh. His taint gapes, and you frown. Your finger traces around the rim, ignoring his whines and the bucking of his hips.

“Next time,” you whisper, your finger edging into him, “I think I’ll get something to properly fill you.” Your finger edge back out, your hand gentle against the curve of his bum as you soothe the red skin. “How does that sound? Does that sound like something the princess might like?” He nods his head, turning slightly to look over at you. You give a curt nod. “All right-” your hand rests at the bottom of his back- “I’m going to go get you a snack, stay here, okay?” You step away from him to kiss at the front of his head, his hair sticking to his forehead and eyes heavy with exhaustion.

#obey me one shot #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #om! leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan headcanons #leviathan x reader #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x mc #leviathan avatar of envy #shall we date leviathan #new one!!#same thing but just posted again #repost

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writingbakery · 4 years

Text

⤿ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 ! 🍪

bakery special; i needed to cheer myself up with some fluff, & these lil hello panda cookies are absolutely addicting. enjoy 💗

dessert pairing; daichi, ushijima, bokuto, kageyama, & hinata x gn! reader

pastry taglist; @beatific-drabbles @this-kitty-got-claws @the-iron-wife @sushizombie @bakugou-jpg @bear-kingdom-princess @marsbf @heroheads

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Daichi Sawamura

“just one, dai ? pretty pretty please?” you pout, & your boyfriend sighs as he weighs the pros & cons of two different protein powders.

“we haven’t even had lunch yet, [y/n]. you’ll spoil your appetite,” he tries to reason with you as he places the bottle in the cart, ignoring your pouty face with every ounce of his strength. “but they’re so tiny & delicious, one box won’t kill me. plus you said we couldn’t have the really huge box of mini chocolates, this is a fair compromise !”

he’s really regretting introducing the “snack compromise” rule; it was meant to balance out all your junk food with vegetables, & yet daichi feels like you’ve managed to con him with it more times than he can count.

“fine. one box, alrig— [y/n]! wait for me, you’ll get lost again—“ you’re too busy skipping towards the candy aisle, the shiny boxes of hello panda cookies calling your name. oh dear, daichi groans internally, watching you gather at least six boxes in your arms.

maybe he can sneak in a kale shake with your breakfast tomorrow.

[“are you going to at least share them with me?”

“maybe, if you ask nicely!”]

Ushijima Wakatoshi

“say ahh, toshi!”

the gym is absolutely silent, every single volleyball player practically breaking their necks to watch you as you hold the tiny, panda shaped cookie up to ushijima’s lips. tendou is far too pleased, & goshiki looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

ushijima doesn’t even hesitate, leans down to gently take the cookie from your fingers — even pressing a gentle kiss against them before pulling away. it’s a practically unnoticeable act of pda, but for him it’s like he’s pulled you in for a hollywood dip & kiss, tongue & all.

“i like the chocolate ones better,” he says after a moment of chewing, & you laugh a little at his teammates’ expressions. “i know, but the strawberry ones are superior, toshi. you & your tastebuds will learn,” you tease, patting his cheek, & he leans against your palm a moment in another rare show of affection.

goshiki coughs on his water, tendou slapping at his back with a cackle heard all the way out into the halls. they’re quite obviously gawking at the pair of you, not used to seeing ushijima so... soft.

“told you. captain’s not so stoic with his weak spot,” tendou whispers, & you can’t even bring yourself to chastise him for gossiping; he’s absolutely 1000% right, & both you & wakatoshi know it.

that doesn’t stop your boyfriend from making them both do laps around the gym for eavesdropping instead of practicing, but they sort of deserved it.

[“i have the chocolate ones at home, if you wanna come over?”

“i’ve got a feeling that was your plan all along, princess.”

“maybe...”]

Bokuto Kotaro

“hi baby !”

your overly energetic boyfriend is waving best he can outside your window, arms full of at least twenty boxes of hello panda cookies. he’s got all different flavors, & if you squint you can see a few littering the grass around & behind him like a cookie trail — obviously from carrying more than he could handle.

“ko, it’s one am! what on earth are you doing?!” you whisper shout, but his smile never wavers. “you were mad at me earlier cause i ate all your cookies, so i told myself i’d buy you more, but then practice ran really late cause akaashi wanted to work on some moves, and then i fell asleep in the shower, & then the one corner store didn’t have the ones you liked so i had to go to the one with the fat cat in the window!”

“kotaro, that shop is nearly an hour away!” your boyfriend is still absolutely unphased, bouncing ok his toes as he tries to balance all the cookies in his arms. “yeah, but you’re my baby, my angel, my sweetheart princess sugar plum honey bun ! only the best for ya, duh !”

you roll your eyes at his dramatics, but inwardly you’re touched; he never fails to make you feel special, even if it’s a little over the top. “well, come inside then, no use freezing your tail off out there. but you’re big spoon tonight,” you warn, smiling despite yourself at the happy dance he does.

“and don’t leave those cookies on the grass, ko !” “of course not, baby!”

[he accidentally leaves a few behind, & you’re finding stray boxes for days after, but it’s sweet nonetheless, & your heart swells every time you see one. ]

Kageyama Tobio

“i can’t believe you’re not sharing with me.”

the pouty look on your boyfriend’s face is downright adorable, almost laughable as he rolls over on your bed to glare at you. you’re sitting at your desk, homework long forgotten as you munch the vanilla filled panda cookies — the ones you’re refusing to share.

“you wouldn’t share your milk with me earlier, so this is payback. you even looked offended that i’d asked !” you counter, munching another cookie, & kageyama scowls. “that’s different ! you know how i feel about milk !” he whines, & you can’t help your giggles.

“well, i feel the same way about hello panda cookies, & you’re gonna have to deal with it,” you tease, & your boyfriend huffs dramatically before flopping onto his back.

one minute passes, then two as you patiently wait. any moment now, and — “what if i brought you your own milk when i go get mine ? & maybe ... i let you sip mine sometimes?” he asks finally, leaning his head back over the edge of the bed to look at you upside down.

got him. you nod with a smile, carefully pressing a cookie to his lips at the compromise, & he grabs your hand to tug you onto the bed with him.

he was a brat, but you’d learned how to get your way with him, & he was none the wiser — he’s just lucky he’s so cute.

[“kageyama ! you brought me milk, i knew you loved me—“

“get away from me hinata, this is for [y/n] & [y/n] only !” ]

Hinata Shoyo

“what do you mean you don’t eat the ears first?”

your boyfriend is looking at you like you’ve grown six heads, but you don’t really care — you’re pretty sure you’re not the crazy one here. “[y/n], the cookie is so small. you don’t eat it all in one bite?” he asks incredulously, crumbs decorating the corner of his mouth.

leaning over, you brush the crumbs off his face before sitting criss cross on the grass next to him, shaking your head. “no, that’s not the right way to eat them. you bite off both the ears, then the head,” you explain, even pulling out a cookie to demonstrate.

hinata is still looking at you oddly, & you shrug your shoulders a little self consciously. “it’s how i’ve always eaten them, i dunno,” you mumble, & you watch his face melt into something more fond, more loving. “i’ll have to try it then,” he decides, carefully nibbling off the ears of the panda cookie, & you smile at how attentive he is.

“hm, they do kind of taste better this way. like i’m savoring it kinda ?” he says, & you nod excitedly. “exactly ! you get to enjoy the cookie more this way !”

“i’ll never eat them any other way ever again ! all hail the superior [y/n] way of cookie eating,” he declares, kissing your forehead as you giggle at his antics.

no matter how weird or out of place you feel, hinata is always there to make sure you know you’re loved just the way you are, & you appreciate him more than you can say.

[“is this cannibalism then? you’re sweet as a cookie, [y/n], & you’re cute like these ones too.”

“hinata shoyo, you flirt!” ]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#haikyuu imagines #hinata x reader #daichi x reader #ushijima x reader #bokuto x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu fluff #bokuto fluff #hinata fluff #ushijima fluff #kageyama fluff #daichi fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #evywrites

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boobz-fye · 3 years

Text

corny/cute things they do for your love (G/N reader)

Includes:Tanaka Ryuunosuke❣ Bokuto Koutarou❣ Yuu Nishinoya❣ and Taketora Yamamoto❣ x G/N reader

Warnings: Cursing, but other than that it's just pure fluff.

Note: Forgot to add that you guys are not dating yet in any of these, but you both do have a crush on eachother (so basically this is their way of making a move on you). This is kinda just another trash post, cause like I typed all of this in an hour. But i'm gonna try and post something around this weekend, so hopefully that will make up for this. Also I didn't really know what to title this post- Anyways enjoy!!!!

❥Tanaka Ryuunosuke❥

This one is more on the corney side I guess

Watching a horror movie together

The plan is for you to get scared and cuddle up in his arms…

But his plan may or may not have worked

You guys are watching Midsommar at Tanaka's house. And suddenly you get to a really gory scene causing you to cringe and hide your face in Tanaka's chest. So of course Tanaka is gonna try and play it cool and poke fun at you a little. “Aww is someone getting scared?” He says with a teasing tone. “Oh shut up” you pout. He snickers turning back to the movie only to be met with an angry Saeko “AAAAAAAAH ITS A WITCH!!!” he screams, jumping into your lap. “WTF DID YOU JUST CALL ME?” Saeko screams, getting ready to beat Ryuus ass “O-oh hey sis.” Yeah lets just say tanaka had a couple bruises and nail marks decorating his body. But he was okay with it since you were the one that patched him up and took care of him!

❥Bokuto Koutarou❥

Good morning and Goodnight text

Some people find text like that dumb (idk why) but i think they are cute

Especially if it's from bokuto!!!

Also he definitely spends like 40 minutes choosing what to say, cause he doesnt want to offend you or seem dumb

Most likely has Akaashi proofread it before he sends the text to you

The sound of your phone going off wakes you up at an ungodly hour this morning, causing you to let out a groan of annoyance. Knowing you wont be able to go back to sleep until you find out who texted you, you check your phone. The text was from Bokuto so your annoyance from before was washed away. “Good morning Y/N!!! I hope you got your beauty sleep for today. Even if you didn't I'm sure you will still look beautiful/handsome as ever🥰. Also this morning I am going to run by the new cafe before school, and I was wondering if you would like something from there? It's on me.” As you read the text a smile appears on your face. You reply right away saying “Good morning bokuto💕 I did get a good amount of sleep, I hope you did as well! And I would like to see the cafe, I haven't found any time to check it out yet. Maybe we can go together? I'm still gonna count on you to pay though!!”

“HEY HEY HEY, are you asking me out on a date? Thought I was gonna have to make the first move. I wasn't gonna allow you to pay for yourself anyways! How about I meet you there in about an hour, yeah?”

❥Yuu Nishinoya❥

Does something dumb to try and impress you

His plan will most likely go south

But hey at least he tried…Right?

You stop by the Karasuno gym ,to give Sugawara a notebook that he left in one of your classes, only to be met by an ecstatic Nishinoya. “Y/N...Y/N, WATCH THIS NEW MOVE I CAME UP WITH!!!” “Uhhh ok?” Nishinoya goes across the gym and does his infamous rolling thunder move. Or tries to- In the middle of sliding on the ground, Hinata opens a door slamming it right in Yuu’s face. “HEY Y/N!!!” Hinata yells, not noticing Nishinoya curled up on the floor right next to him. “Dumbass” Tsukishima mumbles walking away. “Nishinoya are you ok?” you say giggling, as you jog over to him. “Nooooo” He whines, giving a scared Hinata the death glare no, because the life was drained from Hinata's face when he noticed what he did. “Awww poor baby” you say squatting next to him. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes saying “Y/N my head hurts, I think the only thing that will make it feel better is if YOU kiss it.” “Oh really?” “Yep!” You giggle before caving in and kissing the top of his head. Insert Nishinoya hard core blushing, Tanaka crying in the corner because he wants Kyoko to do that to him, and the whole Karasuno team staring at you guys in a state of shock.

❥Taketora Yamamoto❥

Random little notes

He will slide them in your locker, or put one on your desk before class.

Kenma, Kuroo, and Lev try to help him with ideas of what to write

Lev gets his sister to also help

You enter your classroom excited to see what your secret admirer has left for you today. Walking up to your desk you pick up a folded piece of paper with a flower taped to it. You open up the note, but before you could read it the bell rings, signaling that class is starting. So you put the note in your bag real quick, and decide to read it at lunch. Eventually lunch comes around and you finally decide to read it.

“Dear Y/N,

Please meet me at the front gates after school. I'll be waiting for you my love.”

Even though the note was a little bland, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenalin coming over you after reading it. Cause how could you not be intrigued by the possibility of this letter being written by your beloved crush, Yamamoto. After school you rush to the front gate. Only to be met by another note telling you to go to the gym instead. Raising your suspicion even more, you rush over to the gym. And you can't believe your eyes. Somehow Yamamoto got the Nekoma team to do a whole acapella group. You can't tell if you should be scared or happy. Giggling you start to walk closer to the group. Only to be met by Yamamoto profusely blushing and holding a bokay of flowers. “H-Hello Y/N” Yamamoto says without making any eye contact with you. Before you could say anything, Yaku comes up behind Yamamoto and kicks his shin. “WTH yaku?” Yamamoto whispers to the libero behind him. “I know you did not force all of us to sing a whole ass song just for you to not make any eye contact with the girl.” “I'm trying man, I swear.” Yamamoto turns back around and continues where he left off. “Umm Y/N will you go out on a date with me this thursday!?” He screams, with his eyes shut. “Idiot you still aren't looking at her.” Kenma mumbles, trying to get his Nintendo back from Kuroo. “I'd love to!” Oh only if you had your phone with you, cause the face Yamamoto made when he heard you say that was way too adorable. Mans was literally crying.

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

2K notes · View notes

satoruvt · 3 years

Text

for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible.

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair.

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go.

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it.

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick.

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything.

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first.

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long.

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will.

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly.

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #the8 x reader #the8 imagine #svt the8 x reader #seventeen the8 x reader #svt the8 imagine #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao imagine #svt minghao x reader #seventeen minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao imagine #pieces of you

185 notes · View notes

rkived · 3 years

Text

extra drabble #2: love is in the air and it’s rubbing it in right on pediatricsurgeon!jungkook’s face as he’s reminded that he’s awfully single once again. that doesn’t mean he can’t gift a special someone something, right?

or in which, jungkook thinks you’d look nice with tiffany & co. jewelry around your neck. (hospitalplaylist!au)

📍drabbles masterlist

‘‘What do you think she’ll like?’’ Taehyung asks Jungkook as they peruse through the Tiffany & Co. counters filled with expensive jewelry.

The youngest shrugs his shoulders, ‘‘Shouldn’t you know? You’re the boyfriend,’’ he comments, but it only garners him a displeased side-eye from his friend.

‘‘Why do I even bother asking for your help? You haven’t had a girlfriend in over a decade.’’ Taehyung mumbles, shaking his head as he keeps analyzing the sparkly bracelets. ‘‘So until you have one, don’t even try to use the I’m the boyfriend and I should know argument…women are far more complicated than that.’’

One of the pediatrician’s eyebrow raises, curious about the neurosurgeon’s words.

Jungkook blames Med School for his lack of ‘‘women knowledge’’. His dating life was basically nonexistent all throughout the years he was studying to get his degree and although he did try his best to go on a couple of dates after he got his specialization, he had realized that he was absolutely clueless about how to even date.

If he could grade his dating skills, Jungkook would give himself a less than average score.

He has to give credits to his friend. Although the older male was stressed about getting his younger girlfriend the perfect Valentine’s Day gift, at least he was trying. The neurosurgeon isn’t a patient person at all, and on any other occasion, Taehyung would’ve picked anything at random, swiped his credit card, and called it a day.

Jungkook doesn’t understand why does one put themselves through so much stress for one day. He’s a firm believer that there shouldn’t be a predetermined day to be romantic with your partner. Then again, Taehyung is right, the pediatrician hasn’t dated in a hot minute so what does he know?

The neurosurgeon clicks his tongue as he starts to think that he won’t be able to find anything for Yoonah in this store. He’s about to call Jungkook over to tell him that they should try Cartier next, but he holds himself back as he notices the youngest is stuck staring at one of the showcases displaying the latest arrivals.

Taehyung chuckles, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and startling him. ‘‘Thinking about getting someone something for Valentine’s?’’ He asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Jungkook laughs nervously, ‘‘No! I uh─’’

‘‘I think Y/N would really like that, don’t you think?’’ Taehyung interrupts him, a teasing tone to his voice. He actually has no damn clue what you even like, but he thinks it’s funny to pester his friend, especially when it comes to you.

It’s almost comical how embarrassed Jungkook gets whenever you’re romantically implied to him.

In any other moment, he’d tell Taehyung off. What does the neurosurgeon even know about what you like? This time, however, Jungkook remains silent as he looks back at the necklace that had caught his attention. Two interlocked pendants hanging delicately from the gold chain. It is something you would like.

‘‘So, are you gonna get it?’’ The neurosurgeon asks him, it almost feels like he’s cornering the youngest into swiping his black card right then and there.

Jungkook stammers, lips slightly ajar as he debates inside his head if he should.

He’s really not the type to give people gifts, not even to you. Although he did give you that spa day certificate last year, it was only because his mom had given it to him in the first place and he couldn’t seem to find the time to use it, regifting it to you because coincidentally you had been complaining about knots in your back that same week.

‘‘Let’s go,’’ the pediatrician mumbles, tugging his friends’ jacket to get him to leave the store.

There’s a really vivid picture of you wearing the necklace with a big smile on your face that he can’t seem to get out of his mind now.

---

You’ve always had mixed feelings about Valentine’s Day.

On one hand, you think the festivity is cute. The hospital gets decorated with pink and red colors, there are heart-shaped paper banners hanging from the walls and there’s even free candy all over the place!

On the other hand, it serves as a yearly reminder that you’re terribly single and have no one to spend this day with. Of course, you could always do something with your friends. Sadly, your friends are all busy doctors. Besides, you are very aware this day is marketed for couples. Whoever came up with the friendship idea must’ve been single and felt left out.

You already have plans of your own anyway. A bottle of wine and a family-sized bag of your favorite chips are waiting for you at home, you’re only left to pick what movie will be the chosen one for tonight.

The debate of what rom-com to watch is stopped as you enter your office, a gasp escaping your mouth as you notice the bouquet of flowers over your desk. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, taken aback by the sudden surprise.

You hadn’t been expecting anything from anyone. You were quite content with the amount of candy you had received, but something like this was far away from your mind.

It almost even scares you to look at it closely. Afraid it could be a terrible joke or a simple mistake someone had made, an arrangement wrongly delivered to you instead of the original owner. That’s a possibility.

Mustering up the courage to get closer, you pick up the bouquet to notice there’s a small blue box snuggled between the pretty flowers. Your eyes widen because...Tiffany & Co.? Yes, this must be a mistake.

There’s no note attached, which only makes you wonder who could possibly this gift be for.

You can almost hear a little devil Yoongi whispering from your shoulder finders keepers, it’s only fair since it’s in your office anyway. But there’s also ethical angel Namjoon on your other shoulder telling you to do the right thing, which is to head towards reception and ask who had entered your office and left it behind. Which you do ─ angel Namjoon rejoices as devil Yoongi swears he’ll get away with it someday.

The receptionist is typing away at her computer’s keyboard, registering the new files into the system as she notices you approaching with the bouquet on hand and she stops her work to smile at you.

‘‘Hello, Doctor Y/L/N! I see you got your Valentine’s Day gift, heading home already?’’ She asks curiously.

You chuckle, ‘‘I think there’s been a mistake.’’ The comment makes the receptionist’s eyebrows furrow together, confused at your words. ‘‘I don’t have a Valentine, so there’s no way this is for me. There’s not even a note attached to it.’’

‘‘Ohhh, I see.’’ She says in a tone you can’t quite pinpoint, getting back to her typing quickly.

You clear your throat, ‘‘I was wondering if you know who went inside my office today?’’

The receptionist refuses to look at you again, eyes focused on the screen in front of her. She shakes her head no, ‘‘So many people come and go, I lose track of them!’’

You sigh, defeated. The receptionist takes one last look at you before you leave, ‘‘That gift is for you, Dr. Y/L/N.’’ Your gaze moves back towards her, but you can tell her lips are sealed. Whoever left this behind must’ve asked for secrecy.

Looking back down at the bouquet in your hands, you smile slightly at the idea of this being yours. Someone actually gave you something for once.

The receptionist chuckles at your flustered cheeks and the smile you’re biting back from spreading across your face.

----

Jungkook’s phone buzzes as he steps outside his bathroom. It’s a message from the group chat and he quickly opens it, fingers beginning to tremble as he hopes it’s the long-awaited message he’s been hoping to see throughout most of the day.

[9:30 PM] Y/N 🥰❤️: i think i have a secret admirer?

[9:30 PM] Seokjin: Welcome to the club!

[9:31 PM] Namjoon: Why? Did you get something today?

The message that proceeds is one that makes Jungkook’s heart stop momentarily. It’s a selfie of you smiling, a gold necklace being the main focus as it sits pretty on your chest. These are the moments the pediatrician doesn’t question Namjoon’s diagnosis, he is crushing hard.

[9:34 PM] Yoongi: It looks expensive, good for you Y/N.

[9:32 PM] Taehyung: omg :0

[9:33 PM] Taehyung: that necklace looks awfully familiar…..

Jungkook is too busy staring at the picture to even notice Taehyung’s teasing.

It’s just like he had pictured, but much better.

a/n: hiii guys happy valentine’s day!! my gift for y’all is this drabble <3 pining 101 is a crowd favorite and i feel rlly guilty abt abandoning it :( but i HAD to write smthn for these two for vday!! hope u enjoyed n sorry (again) for the wait :P ps: although this is an extra drabble, this does take place during the main drabbles timeline!

#jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook au #jeon jungkook drabble #bts drabble #d: pining 101 #kept it cute n short y'all for once

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fanficbitch · 3 years

Text

In Another Life // First Time Babysitting

October 2008

It’s been pretty obvious that Hotch has been under a lot of stress. Every night he is here later and later and I know it’s killing him. That’s why I’ve taken it upon myself to offer my babysitting duties. I would’ve offered a long time ago, but things haven’t smooth sailing between us the whole time I’ve been here. A lot of the nights at the BAU, Hotch and I are the last ones here. Hotch is here because he actually has stuff to do. I’m here because I am guilty of being a suck up and doing extra work. Tonight is the same.

It’s finally time that I gather up my things and after I do, I stop by Hotch’s office. I knock twice on the door and then he answers. “Come in,” he calls.

I push the door open. “Hey Hotch,” I say.

“You’re still here?” he asks.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I’m always here,” he shrugs. “Anyway, can I help you with something?”

“Yes,” I say then move closer to his desk. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh no,” he sighs.

“No, no, it’s good,” I say. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been a little tired lately and have been here a little too much. So I wanted to offer my babysitting services.”

Hotch scoffs. “I’m not tired,” he says.

“Yes, you are,” I say. “And that’s nothing to be ashamed of. So I will babysit Jack while you take a nap or go grocery shopping or do whatever you want. Please? I want to help you.”

I can tell by his narrow eyes that he is thinking it over. He actually looks really handsome when he is intently thinking, but that’s not the point. “Deal. Tomorrow night?”

“Um, yeah. I can do that,” I say.

“Okay, I’ll let Haley know. You can meet her at my apartment. I’ll send you my address,” he says.

“I’ll be there!” I call as I leave his office

**********

Finding Hotch’s apartment was a lot harder than I thought, so I’m running late to babysitting. He lives in some complex on some side street in some part of DC that I’ve never heard of.

I finally land outside of his apartment and knock on the door. It takes a moment, but a blonde women opens the door with a smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be Haley,” I say as I shake her head.

“Yes, yes, come in,” she says and stands to the side. I step into the apartment and notice that it is pretty bare. I know Hotch just got divorced and recently moved, but other than that, I don’t know much. He must not have had time to decorate. “Thank you for coming to watch Jack. I sometimes need a break from mom duties,” Haley says.

“Oh, it’s no problem! Hotch has told me that Jack is such a great kid,” I say.

“He really is,” Haley assures me. “So, he’s already eaten and been bathed and is in his pajamas. So all you need to do is put him to bed in about an hour.”

“Sounds good,” I say.

“Jack!” Haley call. “Come in here!”

Within seconds, there are speedy steps that land right in front of Haley. It’s easy to recognize him because of all the pictures Hotch has in his office. “Jack, this is Y/N. She is going to hang out with you for a little bit.”

“Hi Jack, it’s so nice to meet you,” I tell him.

“Hi,” he says quietly. I notice that Jack is wearing a pajama set covered with trains.

“Your pajamas are so cool. Do you like trains?” I ask and he nods.

“Why don’t you show Y/N your trains?” Haley suggests and he nods. “Okay, bye buddy,” Haley says and wraps him in a hug then disappears out the door.

“Alright, let me see your trains,” I say and Jack takes my hand and leads me down the hall. We reach a room at the very end of the hall. Now, this is a room that is decorated. There are hand drawn pictures all over the walls and toys all over the floor. “Wow, Jack you are a really good artist,” I say as I look around the room. As I look, I notice Jack’s small bed covered with a soccer blanket and a bookshelf bursting with books.

“Here are my trains,” he says and goes to one of the toy bins. I look through them and begin to recognize some of them.

“Do you like Thomas the Train?” I ask and he nods. “Me too, I think he’s super cool.”

“Percy is my favorite,” he says then hands me a toy Percy.

“I think my favorite is James. He’s my favorite color.”

“My favorite color is green,” Jack says.

“I see a lot of your pictures have green in them,” I say as I look around the room again. “I also see you like soccer.”

“Yeah, I’m really good,” he says which causes me to laugh. “Daddy teaches me.”

I start to laugh again because the thought of Hotch playing soccer is just hilarious to me. “Alright, so what do you want to do? We can color, play with trains or-,” I say.

“Can we read a story?” Jack asks.

“Of course! Pick any book you want,” I say. Jack goes to the bookshelf and carefully selects a book that is large in his tiny hands. It’s If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. “Get comfortable,” I say as I pat the bed and he slips under the covers.

So we read that book, then another book, then another one until it finally got to eight o’clock and told him he had to go to bed.

“Please? One more?” Jack begs.

“I can’t. I don’t want to get in trouble with your Mommy and Daddy.”

“A secret,” he whispers. I sigh. I have to admit, he’s really cute so it’s hard to tell him no.

“How about this, we have a different secret that just the two of us know?”

“Okay,” he smiles. I hum for a moment in thought.

“Okay, here’s the secret,” I say then lean in. “Your daddy is the coolest dad in the world,” I whisper.

Jack giggles once I tell him. “Now, you can’t tell anyone. It’s our secret,” I say and he nods. “Okay, goodnight,” I say then stand up.

“Wait,” he says and I turn around. “I need a goodnight kiss.”

A kiss? I didn’t realize that babysitting required a kiss goodnight. I’ve never dealt with this before. I get down on my knees and press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight,” I whisper.

When I finally get out of the room I let out a sigh. That wasn’t so hard. I know every parent says that their child is well behaved, but Jack actually is well behaved. He really is a great kid.

I suddenly realize that I am basically alone in Hotch’s apartment. I know I should go sit on the couch and wait for him to come back. But, I can’t help but be a little curious.

There are only two other doors down the hallway. I take a guess with one and open it, but it’s just a bathroom. Due to my detective skills, I have deducted that the other room is Hotch’s bedroom. I carefully press the door open and turn on the light. I’m a little bit surprised even though I shouldn’t be. This is the most Hotch room that I have ever seen. There are two pillows on the bed and a grey comforter, a single nightstand with a lamp and a picture on it, and a dresser. There is no art on the wall or any decoration. Again, the most Hotch room I have ever seen.

I flick the light off and close the door just in time because the front door opens. I rush down the hall to see Hotch struggling with at least 10 bags of groceries. “Let me help you,” I say and take a few of the bags and set them on the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” Hotch says breathlessly. “How was everything?”

“Easy peasy,” I say and Hotch smiles.

“Good, maybe I’ll have to call you more often,” he says.

“Honestly I’m free anytime,” I say. There is an awkward silence between us as we try to figure out what to do next.

“Well, I can’t offer much. But if you help me put these groceries away, I can offer you a glass of wine,” Hotch says.

“It’s a deal,” I say and begin to unpack the bags. “So you just went grocery shopping with your free time?”

“Yes, it was actually pretty fun,” he says and I laugh.

“Leave it to you to find grocery shopping fun,” I say as I place a bag of dino nuggets in the freezer.

“I take my alone time whenever I can get it. If it happens to be while grocery shopping, so be it.”

Within minutes, we get through the bags and once we’re finished I turn to Hotch. “So I’ll take one glass of wine please,” I smile.

Hotch pours each of us a glass then leads us to the couch. “Hotch, you got to let me do some decorating for you.”

“What’s wrong with it?” he asks.

“You need some color in here,” I say. “Have you seen Jack’s room? He knows how to decorate.”

“I guess I could put up a few pictures,” he says.

“You know what? I’ll buy you some art as a housewarming gift.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Hotch tells me.

“No, I want to do it,” I assure him. He gives me a small smile that I haven’t seen from him before. It’s nice.

Before I know it, we’ve both finished our wine.

“Well it’s getting late,” I say as I stand up from the couch.

“Again, thank you so much for watching Jack,” he says as he stands up too.

“Seriously anytime,” I smile in the doorway. I look him in his brown eyes a little longer than is appropriate. I jerk my head away then nod. “Okay, see you at work!”

“See you.”

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motherjoel · 3 years

Text

ugly christmas sweaters (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: after your parents leave you alone for christmas, spencer tries to brighten your mood

a/n: this is me trying to start writing again and it is truly not my best work AT ALLLLLL but I was in the christmas spirit so here is... something

wc: 2.5k

warnings/includes: too much fluff, reader is basically an elf, spencer is so sexy and sweet and nice and hot

Spencer had noticed the way your demeanor was shifted today- the normal glimmer that lived in your eyes had diminished into a dull gaze as you flipped through the mounds of files in front of you. This was out of character for you, especially during the holiday season. You were known as the office elf during December, constantly bringing in freshly baked cookies and stringing tinsel over your teammates computers. Today however, there was no sparkle in your eye and you weren’t wearing your normal Christmas sweaters (Spencer’s favorite was the one that said “Hydroxide, Hydroxide, Hydroxide! Merry Christmas!” with a glitter Santa in the middle). It took him until lunchtime to finally do something about it. As you poured yourself another cup of coffee into an un-festive mug, he took the opportunity to ask you about your change in enthusiasm.

“Hey Y/N, is… is everything okay?” he asked, grabbing the coffee pot from you and refilling his own mug. You took a long sip before rubbing your temple with a sigh.

“Yeah, I…” you started before seeing Spencer's suspiciously raised eyebrow. “No, okay? I’m not! Because every year my parents come to visit and help me decorate my apartment and we go to pick out a Christmas tree and we make our own peppermint bark and chocolate chip cookies and… well, they’re going on a stupid cruise! They left yesterday and they won't be back until New Years, and it just... sucks.” you finished, noticing that you spilled half of your coffee onto the ground from your wild gesticulations. Spencer stared at you for a moment, wide-eyed, before snapping out of his daze to grab a wad of paper towels to clean up your mess.

“Well, I…” he started, kneeling to sop up the mess, “I know this probably won’t help, but I-I’m not busy this weekend!” he said, standing up to throw out the wet paper towels as you cleaned up the extra coffee that spilled onto the counter.

“Well, neither am I. Because my stupid parents-” you started to go into another rant which was cut off by Spencer before you could continue.

“No, Y/N, I meant I’m not busy this weekend so what if… we did something festive? You know, your parents aren’t home and nobody should be alone for the holidays. What if we went to get you a Christmas tree? And I’m not the best at baking, but-” he started to suggest before you tightly wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest.

“Thank you,” you said, muffled into his cardigan. Spencer was thankful you couldn’t see the blush dusted on his cheeks. You pulled away after a moment, but the warmth of your embrace lingered with Spencer for longer than he’d like to admit. “Thats really sweet of you Spence, but you don’t have to do that for me,” you said as you refilled your mug.

“But I want to!” he said, a little too loudly. You gave him a look before he continued. “Seriously, I mean i’ve never really made a big deal about the holidays but, it could be fun!” he smiled dorkily as the sparkle in your eyes reignited a bit.

“Spence, that is… so sweet. We’re gonna have so much fun, I promise. When are you free?” you asked.

“Uh, always?” he said as you laughed, suddenly feeling very self conscious about his word choice. “I mean, not always, I, uh, I do things?” he defended, not even convincing himself.

“Don’t worry, nobody in the BAU has any social life,” you reassured him. “How about… today? I know it's kinda soon but you got me really excited and since it’s Friday and we’re off this weekend we can get all of our shopping and decorating done! Sorry, I seem crazy” you laughed. Spencer ignored the pang in his chest at the angelic coo of your laughter.

“You’re not crazy, it's cute,” he laughed before he realized what he had just said, coughing to fill the ensuing silence. “I mean, sure, that sounds great,” he smiled as he watched you head back to your desk, coffee in hand and a newfound spring in your step

Hours had passed since your conversation at the coffee machine and you were just about ready to leave work, your stack of finished paperwork mounds taller than it had been at the beginning of the day. With a satisfied sigh, you looked to Spencer’s desk to see it was empty- he definitely hadn’t left, his jacket hanging on his chair, but he wasn’t in the bullpen. After looking around for a few moments, a bright light caught your eye from the bullpen entrance.

“Oh my god,” Emily laughed, leaning back in her chair.

“Wow,” JJ laughed. You turned your attention to where they were looking to see Spencer, wearing the most ridiculous Christmas tree light-up hat with a decadent mug of hot chocolate balancing in his hands.

“What is this!” you yelled, springing out of your seat and running up to him, admiring his hat.

“I thought you could use a pick me up,” he blushed as you reached up and pressed a button near his ear that made the hat sing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

“Pretty boy is whipped,” Morgan remarked, not-so-subtly as he received a glare from pretty boy himself.

“Spencer, I love it,” you smiled as he handed you the mug of cocoa, which you accepted gratefully.

“I’m glad,” he smiled watching you sip from the mug, giving yourself a whipped cream mustache. “Oh, you’ve got a little…” he said, gesturing to his upper lip.

“Huh?” you said, attempting and failing to lick it off.

“Here,” he said, reaching out to wipe the remaining cream off your upper lip without thinking, licking it off his finger. You were honestly shocked- he didn't like touching people, although you were often an exception, but this was a new level. He didn’t seem to notice the gasps coming from the team as he grabbed his things to leave the office. You decided to ignore the gesture- you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, risking that he wouldn’t touch you like that again.

“Ready to go?” you asked after finishing your drink.

“Yup,” he smiled, following you to the elevator and leaving behind a shocked group of FBI agents.

The elevator was filled with your excited rambling as you made your descent to the parking lot.

“So I was thinking that since it’s already a little late we can just order some chinese food and bake cookies, but tomorrow, we can get a tree and decorate my apartment?” you smiled at Spencer, not taking notice of his entranced gaze. “We can also decorate your apartment too of course, I think I have some extra tinsel and lights,” you said as the elevator doors opened.

“Oh, we don’t have to do mine, I’m not really one for that kind of thing,” he stammered, following you to your cars.

“Nonsense! I’m not gonna be living in a winter wonderland while you’re living in a dark library. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just want to spread the Christmas cheer,” you clarified, getting into your car after telling Spencer to follow you to your apartment. He couldn’t help the racing of his heart as he drove- he didn’t need to follow you, already knowing where you lived from his many previous visits.

After putting his car in park, Spencer headed over to your parked car a few spots over where you were reaching far into the trunk.

“I took these from my parents house when they bailed on me,” you said, rummaging through your packed car. “Here!” you exclaimed, pulling out a pile of Christmas lights and decorations. Grabbing most of the pile, Spencer followed you up to your apartment, smiling at the skip in your step. After struggling for a moment to unlock the door, you finally pushed it open with your hip and set the lights you were holding onto your counter.

“Stay right here,” you said to Spencer with a mischievous smirk, running into your bedroom. He made himself busy by sorting through the pile of decorations, discovering a homemade Santa Claus that seemed like an enthusiastic 6 year old made it. He didn’t have much time to observe his find before you came running back into the room wearing a Christmas sweater. Not just any sweater, but Spencer’s favorite- Hydroxide, hydroxide, hydroxide.

“It’s your favorite!” you giggled, doing a twirl for him to get the full effect.��

“Wow, it looks great,” he smiled as you handed him a wrapped box. “What’s this?” he said, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, just an early Christmas present. Consider it a thank you for helping me out,” you smiled, urging him to open it. He did so, carefully ripping the wrapping paper off to open the box, revealing the exact same sweater you were wearing.

“Is this…?” he said, slowly pulling the sweater out of the box.

“It is! I thought we could be twins,” you laughed as he observed the sweater, open-mouthed in half shock, half adoration.

“I love it y/n,” he said, still shocked that you noticed his admiration towards the sweater.

“Go put it on!” you suggested, laughing at Spencer’s wide eyed stare as you ushered him into the bathroom. By the time he came out, you’d already gathered all of the cookie ingredients and were preparing for the night of baking ahead of you. Spencer emerged with a nervous smile, eyebrows raised for your approval. You ignored the pang in your heart at the sight.

“Wow, you look great!” you laughed, walking over to him after noticing a tag sticking out at the back of his neck. “Hold on, lemme just…” you started, tongue darting out in focus as you tried to rip the tag out. “Bend down,” you ordered, amused by the blush dusted across his cheeks as he slowly knelt. Without thinking, you leant down and tugged at the tag with your teeth, eventually ripping it off. “Aha!” you exclaimed with pride, tag in hand.

“Thank you,” he clamored to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“We look hot,” you joked, grabbing his hand and twirling him around a bit, the blush never leaving his cheeks. “You know, I don’t like the phrase ‘ugly christmas sweater.’ I actually think they’re quite charming! It’s like, why discriminate against an entire clothing item just because it’s not the most flattering! They have personality.”

“Did you know that ugly Christmas sweaters became popular in the 50s?” Spencer started, encouraged by the interest in your eyes. “After the mass commercialization of Christmas, “jingle bell sweaters” were invented which soon came to be known as the ‘ugly’ Christmas sweater,” he said, following you into the kitchen.

“How did you know that? I mean I know you know everything but where did you even read that?” You laughed, pouring some ingredients into the mixer.

“Oh, well I know how much you like Christmas, so… I did some light reading about it. Did you know that Jingle Bells was originally meant to be a Thanksgiving song?” he said, too focused on his measuring cup to notice your in-awe stare.

“I think I love you,” you blurted before slapping your hand over your mouth. Spencer choked on his own oxygen, blowing a gust of flour around the kitchen and all over your face. The silence that followed felt thicker than the cloud of flour you were currently trying not to choke on.

“I-I’m sorry, but what did you just say?” Spencer asked in a daze, white powder settling onto the front of his new sweater.

“Um, I didn’t- didn’t say anything!” you tried to play off the moment, busying your nervous hands by frantically swiping the flour off the counter and into the trash can.

“Y/N, um, did you just say that you…” he pressed on, wincing almost.

“You know what, just forget I said anything Spence! Of course I love you, you’re my best friend, it’s no big deal,” you said, dusting the rest of the flower off your own sweater.

“Oh. Yeah, of course, um. I’ll just… get the eggs,” he muttered, shuffling to the fridge. After a few moments of silence, you decided that you had nothing to lose.

“Spence?” you asked.

“Mm?” he hummed, focusing intensely on cracking an egg.

“I love you,” you said, setting down the spoon you were mixing with.

“Yeah, you said that Y/N. I love you too,” he smiled, lips pressed tightly together in a way that signaled he wasn’t saying everything that was on his mind, which he most definitely wasn’t.

“No, god this is not how I wanted to tell you. I wasn’t actually ever going to tell you but maybe the Christmas spirit is making me go crazy. I love you love you. Like, how… Mrs. Claus loves Santa,” you laughed nervously as silence filled the room. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said anything,” you apologized while avoiding his stare.

“You… love me love me?” he asked, corners of his lips curling into a soft smile.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, popping a chocolate chip into your mouth. That was when the laughing started. Spencer almost doubled over in laughter, his shocked expression shifting into amused disbelief. “Well you don’t have to laugh at me for being in love with you,” you huffed, irritated at his response. He quickly composed himself.

“No! I'm not laughing at you, I’m laughing at the situation,” he said, wringing his hands together. You raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. “God, Y/N, I mean was it not obvious?” he asked, smiling once again.

“What, Spence? You’re creeping me out,” you said warily.

“You are the sweetest, most beautiful person I have ever met. I think everyone who has ever met you has fallen in love with you,” he said, stepping forward a bit, encouraged by your entranced stare. “You are the only person I would spend the weekend baking and decorating with, I-I mean… wow. I can’t believe you’re in love with me,” he smiled, almost giddy at the thought. As you snapped out of your trance, you hit him lightly on the arm. “What?” he asked, grabbing his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me you idiot!” you laughed, almost jumping into his arms. He was taken aback but he quickly brought his arms around you, pulling your body flush with his.

“I never thought you felt the same,” he whispered into your hair before pulling away. You looked him in the eyes for a moment before leaning in slowly.

“I always have,” you whispered before he connected your lips, the two of you finally melting into each other after your years of pining.

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#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid/OC #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid #emily prentiss #Jennifer Jareau

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reidsmemory · 4 years

Text

Spiders

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Genre: Fluff and some angst I guess

Warnings: Bugs...duh and blood (brief and only mentioned once or twice!)

Challenge: Day 1 - Spiders

Quinn Speaks: If you didn’t already know, I am doing a Halloween writing challenge. Anyone is able to participate! I hope y’all have a fun time with this :))

not my gif!

Bugs. You absolutely hated them. Yes, yes, some of them were okay like lady bugs or butterflies, but some you couldn’t even look at without wanting to gauge your eyes out.

No one at the BAU knew of your fear of course. How silly would that be? A profiler, someone who catches some of the worst people in the world, is afraid of bugs? They wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

On the occasion that there was a creepy crawly in your house, smacking it with a book was always your go to. When you saw one in the work place, speed walking away as you tried not shiver was what it had to come down to.

It was officially October. Spencer’s favorite month of the year.

He’d usually go all out with Garcia and decorate the bullpen in cobwebs and cute little pumpkins every year since you’d been there. Once he had a little bowl of candy corn that he would share with you, as your desks were right next to each other.

Walking in to the office, you spotted all the decorations immediately and a smile came to your face. You looked around for Spencer to see that he was already looking at you with a smile that you returned.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s great, Doc,” you said as you touched some of the mini pumpkins, “These are my favorite.”

“I know,” he looked at you sheepishly, “you seem to gravitate towards them every year.” You blushed that the man had noticed this and quickly tried to compose yourself.

You liked Spencer and Spencer liked you. Everyone knew it, well except you two. You had always danced around each other, Spencer always giving you fun little facts and you giving them right back. The two of you were as compatible as can be and everyone was just waiting till the moment when one of you would grow up and spill your guts.

“Did Penny help you?”

“Yeah we stayed pretty late,” he said and then took a long sip of his coffee.

“Well only 5 more cups of that and you’ll be up and kicking in no time.” He smiled at your words and soon you began to retreat to your desk.

You set up your laptop and hooked it up to your monitor as well as getting out some files out of your bag that you had taken home and placing them on the desk. You spotted two tiny pumpkins at the edge of your desk and smiled widely, he was right, you really did like the mini pumpkins.

Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss watched carefully from behind the break room. Sure Spencer had his fun when it came to decorating, but why couldn’t they cause a little mayhem?

“This is gonna be good,” Derek said as Emily snickered.

Spencer soon noticed to two giggling like school girls and made his way over. “What are you up to?” he asked as they whipped around a the sound of the younger man.

“Don’t sneak up on us like that, Kid,” Morgan said.

“Come here,” Emily beckoned as he complied and saw that they were looking right at you.

“What did you do?” he asked. Spencer could feel himself getting worried and even a bit mad at his co-workers all despite the fact that they hadn’t told him anything about their evil plan.

“Just watch, she should open it soon enough.” Spencer furrowed his brows and his heart rate began to race faster and not just because of the coffee. What the hell did they do?

You scanned you desk for the file Hotch had said he needed by this morning. Sifting though the other beige folders on your desk you pushed your chair back and opened the first drawer on your right.

“Damn it, she’s so close,” Emily said with a grin that was also plastered on Derek’s face. The pair looked like Cheshire cats while Spencer was very much like the worrisome rabbit.

You closed the drawer after not finding what you were looking for and then you turned your left and open the first drawer on that side. You swear to all things holy and sacred that you felt your life flash before your eyes. You sucked in a quick breath and widened you eyes at the sight in front of you.

Derek and Emily were already beginning to laugh, but it soon stopped as they saw your body lean forward and drop to the ground. It only took a few seconds for the trio to rush over to you as well as gaining the attention of everyone in the office that morning.

Spencer was practically fuming, but soon put away those emotions and started to care for you. Moving your limp body from being face down on the floor and now having your head in his lap as Derek now rushed to get JJ and Emily was leaning down on your chest, trying to see if your heart was beating.

It was but very fast.

“What the hell did you guys do?” JJ practically took the words right out of Spencer’s mouth.

“It was just suppose to be a stupid prank, but I guess it freaked her out too much,” Emily said in a panicked tone.

“Oh, yeah. I guess,” Spencer snapped as the three older agents widened their eyes a bit at his outburst.

JJ pushed back your hair and saw that you were bleeding and then looked at the drawer that was pulled out and sure enough it had blood coating the corner. “We might need to get her to the hospital if this doesn’t stop bleeding.”

“Oh my god,” Derek cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay, just get a towel,” JJ ordered as Derek rushed off.

Your eyelids fluttered open and were met with the sight of 3 motherly JJs, 3 worried Emilys, and 3 compassionate Spencers.

“It’s alright, honey,” JJ spoke in a caring tone, “just stay still.” You nodded and leaned back onto Spencer as well as noticing the steal tight grip he had on you hand.

JJ closed the drawer before you could see any off the contents inside again and soon enough Morgan had the towel. JJ pressed the wet side to your skin and began wiping the little streams of blood, then switching to the dry side and holding it to your head.

The blood stream had stopped and you sat upright on the floor, with support from Spencer as he held onto your hips and your back was still against his chest.

“JJ, I’m fine really-”

“You passed out and hit your head,” she reprimanded, “you’re lucky your not at the hospital right now.” You didn’t dare say anything else to the woman. After a few minutes of checking just about everything so let you go back to work.

Clutching Spencer’s hand as you stood up and sat in your chair. Emily had gotten you a cup of water that now sat on your desk and Morgan took your file to Hotch, both extremely sorry, but you waved them off.

“Seriously, Y/N we-”

“I know, I’ll just have to find a way to get you back,” you said with a grin as you winked at them and turned back to your work.

Derek and Emily retreating as he whispered to the woman, “I don’t like this.”

“Do you remember when when Spencer programmed her cell phone to go off whenever it was still?” Emily spoke in a hushed tone, “she didn’t talk to him for a week and then months later got him back when he didn’t even expect it!”

“Shit,” Derek cursed.

Spencer Reid watched you carefully from his desk, making sure there were not signs that this incident would cause any further panic. He didn’t even know what you saw as he was too concerned about your well being rather than what Emily and Derek had placed in your desk.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said as Spencer snapped out of his trance and blushed a bit. “I know it’s dumb and stupid for me to be scared of those things, but I can’t help it, alright?”

“Actually,” Spencer started, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.

That’s a first, you thought to yourself before speaking, “shouldn’t you know what causes fears or whatever and how they stick through adult age?”

“Well in that sense, yes. What I meant is, I didn’t get to see what was in the drawer,” he told you as you met eyes, “I didn’t get to see what you were afraid of.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well you don’t have to know, I think it’s better that way.”

“What? That’s not fair!”

“Oh, but it is, Doc.”

“You know that I’m afraid of the dark and have been since I was a kid, now tell me yours!”

“No!”

“Why not?” Spencer pouted while you rolled you eyes at the man.

“Because it’s embarrassing,” you whispered.

“Well so is mine,” he whispered back. You said nothing to that and Spencer took the initiative and rolled his chair over to right besides you. You could feel the man looking at you as you tried to focus back on the work in front of you, but he didn’t let up.

Stomping on his shoe, he let out a pained cry and when to hold his foot and that when you kicked you leg up and tried to pushed his chair away. It didn’t move to far an he rolled back over to you and now was repeating the same words over and over again.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me,” he chanted quietly as you just rolled your eyes, a slight smile appearing on your face at his antics.

This could go on forever if you let it. “Fine!” He smiled widely at your words. “But you repeat this to nobody and we will never speak of this again, yes?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” you said. Spencer looked at you with a slight grin and you huffed as you started talking, “when I was a kid my family went camping this one time and I had wondered off and somehow found my way to a cave dwelling type thing. I started exploring a little bit because at the time I wanted to be an archaeologist.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said.

“Yeah well it was kind of sort lived,” you spoke with grimace, “I was digging around and some little rollie pollies started to come out of the ground and I played with them, letting them crawl on my hands.” A shiver went down your spine and Spencer noticed your discomfort, mentally hitting himself for pushing you into telling him about all this. “Something must have bit me and I freaked out and started to run out of their only for the biting to continue and as I was running I wasn’t really looking where I was going, henceforth tripping into a spiders web and it got tangled all over my face.

“My parents found me about an hour later covered in red bite marks and having spider webs wrapped around my face,” you told him, “we went to the E.R. and the doctors told us that I was very lucky to have come in so quickly because a certain type of spider had bitten me and it could’ve been deadly.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine, Doc,” you said talking his hand into yours, “it was years ago and I guess it scarred me or some shit. Look in the drawer.”

You turned you head as Spencer peaked in the drawer and saw handfuls of fake bugs that looked really realistic. He could definitely see why you had freaked out so much.

“Not a word, Spencer Reid!”

He zipped his mouth shut and rolled back over to his desk.

***

Part two will be released so time this month for my Halloween writings!! Stayed tuned :))

Remember to tag your pieces ‘QHC2020′ or ‘Q’s Halloween Challenge 2020′ if you are participating in this challenge!

Reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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And I always will - Tom Holland

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️