#side note: why are the B&N signature classics so BEAUTIFUL now

[fractallogic]

There’s a BookTuber I’m subscribed to now and she’s so sweet. Like we have fundamentally different priorities (she didn’t immediately get a library card upon moving to a new city??? She hasn’t visited all of the indie bookstores near her, just B&N???), but she’s so cute and so happy and has such an interesting way of doing the parasocial relationships on her videos. CHARMING.

[spencexreidimagine]

Something Worth Staying For

Note: I'm baaaack, sort of :) this was requested in my mentions shout out to you b <3 I hope you guys like it even if it is very ugly and poorly written !! Love y'all

Spencer spun around in his swivel chair, a pen caught between his teeth as his eyes scanned over the file for a new case inside the manila folder in his hands.

"I don't know how you're not dizzy," JJ says as she strides past him, eyeing his movements.

"I have a high tolerance for dizziness," Spencer responds quickly. His eyes moving up from the file just once to glance up at his co-worker only for him to do a double take and focus his gaze on what was going on behind her.

Stepping into the room was Rossi with a woman, a beautiful and ethereal looking woman. She was laughing, exposing the pearly whites hidden behind her plump red-stained lips. The pen in Spencer's mouth suddenly slipped from his mouth and as he reached out to try and catch it, the file in his hand ended up falling too causing a mess of papers to go flying into the air which earns him a look from JJ and Emily.

He could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he hurriedly bends down to pick up his mess and he hears a small giggle leave your lips. He's mentally cursing himself out until a pair of shoes appear in front of him and then hands sliding around on the floor gathering up all the loose papers. As all of the papers are gathered back up, the two of you stand up face to face with a warm smile on yours, offering him the stack you had collected.

"T-Thank you," Spencer stutters out nervously. You give him another smile before your eyes wander over to his desk, his latest novel resting underneath the mess of paperwork catching your eye.

"Lord of The Rings?" You question, nodding over at the book. Spencer does a quick 180°, looking back at his desk and then back towards you.

"Yeah, I've actually already read it multiple times," Spencer answers. Again, he mentally curses himself out for accidentally coming off as a show off.

"Me too," you winked. Spencer's heart fluttered at the gesture and all he could do was return it with a faint grin.

"Guys, this is Y/N, a friend of mine I met over my book tour," Rossi announces, reappearing at your side. "She is an exceptional author herself, wouldn't say she's as good as me though."

You roll your eyes and playfully jab him in the arm. Emily snorts out a sarcastic 'sure' which causes JJ to stifle a laugh. Penelope suddenly rushes into the room with Derek on her tail, a look of betrayal on her face.

"Y/N is here and no one thought to get me?" She asks, a hurt tone in her voice.

"Ah, Garcia here is a fan of your work," Rossi says to you.

"Oh my god, you're even better looking in person than you are in your pictures on the back of the book," Penelope says as she shuffled over to you. "They don't do you justice!"

You let out a half-embarrassed and half-amused laugh as you mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. When Derek went to go introduce himself, Spencer felt himself go stiff as he watched his friend use the signature flirting moves he always did, but to Spencer's relief - you looked as nice and as neutral as you had already been and most importantly not swooning over Derek.

Everyone continued to talk to you and ask you the basic questions about life and Spencer was impressed with how you seemed so engrossed in literature when any of them asked you about it. You wrote it, you read it, you lived for it and he could relate.

So when you broke off from the chatty group to go get a cup of coffee in the kitchenette, Spencer picked up his courage and took a deep breath before following after you. He was just so taken, so smitten with you that he had to get to know you even if he was literally convulsing with nervousness.

"Y/N!" Spencer called out, doing a small jog over to you. You greeted him with a smile, something you have been giving him since you first met less than half an hour ago.

"Hey Spencer, what's up?" You ask politely.

"I just wanted to talk to you one on one, I don't do quite well in large group conversations when it's not about something logical or a case," Spencer trails off absentmindedly. He was surprised with himself that he had accidentally shared something that personal with you and it just flowed out of him so naturally, without him even thinking of it.

"I know how you feel," you sigh. "If I'm not talking about my books or any book for that matter, I freeze up. Why do you think I'm over here grabbing a coffee?"

Spencer took in your answer and stared at you in awe, his heart swelling with an emotion he hadn't felt in a while. A feeling that he could describe as excitement and hope and a genuine interest he had in you.

"Would you want to grab actual good coffee with me?" Spencer blurts out, his hands fisting his pants as you peered up at him through your lashes. "That's if you're not busy with Rossi after work."

"No I'm not busy at all, I would love to go with you," you responded happily.

So when the clock hit that certain hour that allowed Spencer to leave, he got his stuff together and found you across the room in Rossi's office, most likely saying goodbye to him.

You were practically bouncing off your feet from how excited you felt. Since you walked in and saw Spencer and his klutzy fiasco plus one of your favorite books on his desk, you instantly became interested in him. He was so cute but at the same time he was so wildly attractive and smart and polite and just an overall dream.

Rossi was watching you with examining eyes as he put his stuff away, multitasking attentively.

"What's with you, kid?" He suddenly asked, breaking you out of whatever daydream you were having.

"Nothing, I have no idea what you mean I'm fine," you retort.

"You're excited about something, I see that little shimmer in your eyes I've only seen you get when you're about to do something either dangerous or out of your element," Rossi says slowly, trying to decide whichever one of the two you were about to act upon.

"Well if you're so interested in my life, old man, I have a date," you said matter of factly.

"A date?" Rossi laughs. "In all the years I've known you, a date has never made you like this. Who's the lucky contender?"

"Spencer."

Rossi almost dropped the objects he had in his hand, immediately gazing up at you with an astonished look on his face.

Spencer was waiting for you, his hands stuffed in his pockets as Rossi's eyes landed on him, sending him a warning look before averting his attention back to you.

"Both of you better be careful with one another's feelings," Rossi cautions. "Don't go breaking his heart either, I'm the one that has to see him every day at work."

You rolled your eyes and gave him a quick goodbye, you'd see him tomorrow anyway. You were staying for a whole month, bouncing between the several book stores in the city and even a bit on the outskirts. Either way, you were in town for a while and for the first time, you were grateful for that.

You skipped down the short amount of stairs and joined Spencer at the end of them where he was waiting for you with a shy smile.

Spencer was hesitant at first, not knowing how to behave when he opened the door to his car for you and then left the radio off to not bore you with the classical music CD he usually left in the stereo. He didn't know how to act in order for him to not scare you off because he really wanted to get to know you.

"Classical Classics," you read aloud as you picked up the empty CD case that was near your feet. You read the back for a few seconds before you reached over and turned on the stereo and the soft melody of Debussy started streaming into the car. "I love classical music."

"So do I," he responds softly. "I think it really stimulates the brain and it's peaceful."

"I think so too!" You agree with a breathy laugh. "When I'm writing, you bet I have classical playing in my ear. I can't get any work done if I'm not listening to it."

Spencer smiled to himself as he only grew more fond of you. You were like a dream to him, a beautiful and unreal dream that shares so many similarities with him that it might be too good to be true.

When he pulled up to the coffee shop, he hurriedly got out of the car and opened the door for you like the gentleman that he was. He led you into his favorite shop and ordered his coffee and pastry and waited patiently while you did the same.

It was then, when you sat across from each other at a table with a warm beverage and a sweet snack that the two of you began to unwind and share so much about each other.

Spencer listened closely to every word that left your mouth, loving the sound of your voice and entranced with any history of yours that you told him. You told him about your family, how you got into writing and how you were discovered, how long you were visiting for and how you had lived in this city for so long - hoping that one day you would be able to leave and when you finally did, you never stayed permanently.

"Why?" Spencer asked, a little hurt that you did not like being here. He wanted you here, more than anything but he realized that a month was not very long and you would leave just as fast as you arrived.

"I don't know," you frowned. "I'm restless, I have nothing here that makes me want to stay. I like traveling, seeing new things and experiencing new things. I don't get that same excitement here that I do when I'm gone. I love book tours because I'm never in the same place for so long. There's just nothing exciting for me here."

In a way, that was a warning to him. As much as you liked each other, he wasn't sure whether that would be enough to keep you here. You were wild and desperate for adventure, and he knew that now. But you were like a magnet and he couldn't pull himself away even if he knew you would leave in the end.

And he was right.

You spent the whole month together, every day you would hang out with him. The two of you had knocked down each other's walls, exposing the truths that no one else knew. When you were together, there was a vulnerability and such a strong emotion that anyone around you could feel it. Spencer had grown attached and so have you because when the day came for you to leave to the next area in the country, for the first time in your life you were torn.

You had gone down to the BAU to say goodbye to all your new friends, to Rossi and unwillingly, Spencer.

Rossi frowned to himself when he saw how sad your eyes looked, something he has never seen in all the years he's known you. You were always so happy and full of life, excited to go to wherever the plane ticket would take you - but not today.

"You don't have to leave, kid, I've told you already," Rossi whispers as you're giving him your farewell hug. You remembered what he had told you the day before, trying to convince you to stay for your sake and Spencer's. You had been traveling non stop for so long and sooner or later you needed to settle down. A book tour was always there, waiting for you to take on with every successful book you've ever written, but the connection you made with Spencer might not withstand the time. "Yes I do, it's my job," you say back.

Rossi chuckles sadly to himself. "You don't know how many times I've used that line."

As you pulled away from Rossi, you see Spencer standing afar. He had bags under his eyes indicating the lack of sleep from last night.

"I'll walk you out," Spencer says as he approaches you. You give him a silent nod, letting him lead you out of the BAU with his hand on the small of your back. You gave everyone in the room a farewell wave as you stepped into the elevator and they returned it until the door slid closed in front of you.

Spencer was awkward beside you and you could feel it. He was usually talking your ear off and you would always happily listen, but today he was rigid next to you and solemn.

When you were outside, the cab already parked and waiting for you just made the situation all that much real. You turned towards Spencer, your lip caught between your teeth as you chewed down on it in anxiousness. You stood there motionless, not knowing what to say or what to do to say goodbye to him.

You were grateful when he made the first move and pulled you towards him in a tight hug. His arms circled around your lower back and your arms were thrown over his shoulders with your hands entangling themselves into his hair.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you whisper tenderly. "I'll miss you, so much."

"Please don't leave," Spencer says. His heart was throbbing with every second that went by as he knew it was one less second with you. He wanted to kiss you, so bad, but he knew if he did it would only make things worse. Then it would be nearly impossible to let you as if it wasn't already bad enough.

You wanted to respond that you don't have anything to stay for, as that was always your usual line, but this time you'd be lying.

"Goodbye, Spence," you brokenly say, pressing your lips against his cheek for a few moments before pulling away from him.

Spencer watched as you walked away from him and hopped into the the cab. Your eyes sending him one more goodbye before you finally disappeared down the road. He let out a shaky breath he didn't even know he was holding and used his palm to wipe off the single tear that was sliding down his cheek and forced himself to go back into the BAU building.

His team was waiting for him with sad eyes and Spencer had to swallow down the lump in his throat to assure everyone that he would be okay.

"You really liked her, didn't you?" Derek asks him one day as Spencer sat idly at his desk staring at his Lord of The Rings book.

"Yeah, I did actually," Spencer answers. "I miss her."

"I think she'll come around," Derek says hopefully, staring at his friend sympathetically.

Spencer spent the next few weeks moping around, a little detached from everyone and everything. Everyone watched him with careful but knowing eyes, never really wanting to say anything that would bring him more down. He was hurt but he knew he shouldn't dwell on the fact that you might never come back but he couldn't help himself. He could honestly say that he might have fallen in love with you in that short span of a month that he had known you though as cliché as it sounds it felt like he had known you longer.

It was the second week Spencer had spent without you and he couldn't be more miserable. Little did he know, you were feeling the same way. He would text and call you but with your busy schedules and lack of physical being, it just wasn't the same.

You gathered up all your stuff from the wooden table and slung your bag over your shoulder with a heavy sigh. Your book signing had just ended and all you wanted was to go home and sleep, and be with Spencer.

The cold evening air of Seattle nipped at your cheeks and nose, a shaky breath leaving your mouth as you hugged the jacket closer to your body. You watched jealously as a couple in front of you snug closer to one another and you found yourself wishing so badly that it was you and Spencer. You felt more restless than you ever had been ever since you left which is the opposite of everything you've told yourself since you moved away from your home city.

"What am I doing?" You mutter to yourself, stopping in your steps and processing the new plan that snuck it's way into your brain. You quickly dialed up your agent and canceled any other book signing lined up for you and bought the next flight back home.

Home, where Spencer was.

The next day, Spencer was sitting in his living room, mindlessly flipping through another book as he got lost in his thoughts. He missed you <i>so</i> much, words couldn't describe. He was hoping for a miracle, for anything that would bring you back together.

When there was a quick string of knocks on his door, he pushed himself off the armchair and slumped his way over to the door.

"Who is it?" He asks as he pulls open the door. Almost immediately, a body slams into his, almost dropping him onto his ass but he luckily steadied himself. Arms are tightly wrapped around his shoulders and when he looks down his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. There you were, in the flesh, holding him in a bone crushing hug. He laughed in disbelief, placing his hands on your hips and making you face him.

"How are you here?" He questions, a happy smile decorating his face.

"I quit my tour, I've done enough," you answer.

"Why are you here?" He asks quietly, knowing confidently that he was the reason why. He just wanted to hear you say it.

"I found something worth staying for," you smile, grabbing ahold of his hand and running your thumb over his knuckles. Spencer's smile only grew more as he hugged you tightly once again, ecstatic to have you back in his arms and this time permanently.

[stylessemantics]

VII-2: Oh Marcel (AU part II)

Also called: The Marcel Smut (Read part one here)

Shout out to @overad​ and @legend-waitforit-harry​, my main babes to talk all marcel things about. Also to J(legend-waitforit-harry) and @harrysperfectdimple​ for being angels and beta reading this big chunk of words T.T you’re the real MVPs

Prompt: Harry, pitifully called Marcel as a sour joke, is a nice, young, straight-A student, with a bully that hates him on a personal level, and what he thinks is an unattainable crush on his bully’s ex, who he’s started to tutor and befriend despite how much he dreams of her in the dirtiest of situations. Maybe little old marcel has a chance?

In which Harry and y/n start to form a beautiful friendship, stained by y/n’s past and Jonathan’s blind rage.

Harry felt relieved as he punched his way through a boxing routine, happy he was able to move around a class due to the teacher cancelling on the original time, so he was free to pick up the sport once more at the gym close to campus. For some reason boxing helped him relax. Something about delivering blow after blow to a punching bag felt very liberating. Like screaming without actually having to scream. Only one thing wasn’t allowing him to fully concentrate on his class.

The instructor had told him to drink water and rest up before the next set of exercises and that’s when he glanced through the glass walls and door that divided the boxing area from the rest of the gym and spotted her stretching. Harry immediately gave his back to her direction and cursed under his breath, eyes blowing wide open. Y/N came to this gym too? It made perfect sense, it was close to campus and it wasn’t that expensive, specially for the students. But he didn’t think he’d ever run into her at any place other than the hallways, when they would, by random chance, intersect in the same building. His hands felt sweaty under the bulky red gloves as he remembered the embarrassment that was talking to her last time when she had come around with his forgotten notebook. Harry, with a fast beating heart, tried his best to focus on just hitting the bag, but his mind would wander and he itched to look back at her. She hadn’t noticed him and deep down he wanted that to stay that way. He didn’t really want her to see him all sweaty and tattoos full on display.

Although, when he thought about it, now that he had finished working at the tech place he had been working as a paid intern at, he didn’t have to wear the mandatory vests, so everyone would see his tattoos full on display when he went back to class later in the afternoon not in his classic button up. His contract ended and he didn’t want to continue working there. Instead he applied to go back to his first part time job at the bakery down the road. He figured he had saved up enough money working at a boring tech firm long enough, so he just waited until his contract was up and packed up his things. He was grateful for the experience and all the things he’d learned but he was about ready to go to a much more fun job that would still give him enough cash to get through campus living. It all worked perfectly with his changed schedule, plus he enjoyed the smell of freshly baked goods any time of the day.

He rushed to the showers right after his routine was over. He stretched in the boxing area, still cautious that y/n wouldn’t spot him, and ran to get clean and changed into some comfortable post-workout attire. Pushing his glasses up his nose he took a big breath before walking as fast as he could without looking like a lunatic, over to the staircase that led to the exit of the gym. He kept his gaze down. Maybe if I don’t look up she won’t see me, he kept thinking to himself in a clearly dumb logic. It’s not that he didn’t want to see her – God, all he wanted to do was see her, no matter when. And talk to her – but it was the latter he could never do when she was in front of him, so he would rather avoid running into her all together so that he’d never end up looking like a nitwit in front of her again.

It’s obvious that if you’re not looking at something other than your feet as you walk, you are bound to crash into something, anything, at some point. Which is exactly what happened to Harry. He felt his body collide with another body and with his luck, before his brain could figure out the shapes and colours, he already knew he had crashed straight into y/n, and since they were at the very top of the stairs, the blow had sent her almost tumbling over. His reflexes kicked in and his hands reached out as he pulled her to him, keeping her from barrelling down the flight of steps.

With wide eyes and at this proximity Harry noticed the light in her eyes, and the redness to her cheeks that was extremely adorable and making him blush and stumble over his words.

“I-I… M’ so sorry!” she smiled at him one of her signature sweet smiles and for a second Harry wondered why he needed cardio after all.

“It’s ok! Hi Harry! I didn’t see you here, came for a workout?” Inside her mind she was slapping herself, because what else could someone go to the gym for? She didn’t know why but Harry made her a bit clumsy. She liked his company; the sudden inexplicable nerves that came with it? Not so much.

“Uh y-yeah. I umm… I took b-boxing back up…”

It was funny to watch. How they both seemed to be at a loss for words, how they both looked a lot more flustered than someone who’d just finished a workout routine. How Harry still had his arm around her and held her very close to his frame. Although this one he noticed and he immediately let go of her, careful not to push her back too harshly, as he cleared his throat.

“Would you like to grab breakfast with me?” she asked suddenly and Harry didn’t know what to answer. So he did what he knew how to do best: fix his glasses incessantly. It was a nervous tick. He’d remove them and wipe them and fidget them back on, tap at them, then push and pull and push and pull as his brain wracked for something to say, or rather tried to remember how to tell the mouth the correct positions to go to so that he could form words.

“I just… I uh… I have c-class…” it wasn’t a lie. He did have class… In four hours. But y/n didn’t know that and all she could do was nod as she made him promise that next time he’d grab a bite to eat with her after the gym, to which Harry had to say yes – not that he wasn’t dying to – and continued playing with his glasses during.

Deep down Harry knew he would never be able to grab a casual bite with the girl that flooded his dreams, the girl that made him reconsider running the treadmill – beyond everything, the conversation had left him breathless and with a heartbeat he could worriedly call a doctor about – the girl that made his chest and pants tight at just the glance of her hips in the fitting activewear she donned for the day. But it was nice to imagine. It was nice to wonder. To think that he could be the confident guy who asks her instead, and takes her out and keeps a nice conversation flowing, enough so he can charm her in some way that she’d want to hang out with him more and more.

It was nice to imagine.

And he didn’t need to imagine it much because he found himself being silently beckoned over by a whispering y/n that same night at the library.

“Hey” she spoke in hushed tones as he sat down in front of her with shaky hands and taking a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Harry let out a tiny “hi” in response and forced his eyes to focus on the textbooks in front of him. Y/N understood, after all she was here to study as well.

It was hard not to notice her struggle silently after a while. She kept sighing and every time she erased something she did it a bit more furiously than the last. It was difficult for Harry not to take a peek at her exercises from over the rim of his glasses. With a small grin he figured out the answer to the question with ease in his mind, and leaned his hand over to her notes, circling down the correct option as she looked at him amused and confused.

“It’s Thermochemistry…” he whispered leaning back to pay attention to his notes.

“What?” was all she asked and Harry lifted his book so she could see the front. Of course he was taking Chemistry IV when she was on her second time taking Chem 101 and on her way to fail it again. “How?” she asked to which he just shrugged. Chemistry was his thing. He liked it. In fact he was taking it as extra credits, quite literally just for fun.

“I like it” Harry said taking a quick glance at the clock and noticing it was about time to go. The library was closing soon and y/n also got the hint, hurriedly picking up after herself while staring at Harry. To y/n, any one that liked or could deal with chemistry was a study case. It was her worst subject all through high school, and all the time she lost pulling at her roots to learn it made her eventually hate the matter, so she couldn’t understand how someone could get any of it, let alone also like it to the point of needing or wanting to take the subject 4 times, each with more complex topics than the last. In that moment, Harry seemed like an alien of some sort – specially cause his green eyes never cease to look extremely green – but he also looked like an angel. A blessing.

Harry found himself agreeing to y/n’s claims for the second time that day. Whatever she said – no matter how hard it made it for him to breathe and how much anxiety the thought of her caused him – he found himself nodding to. In his nervous tick he started messing with his glasses when she asked him the craziest thing ever.

“T-tutor… you? Me? I mean…” Her eyes were shining as they walked side by side down the field and in the direction of her building. She nodded excitedly, quietly begging for him to agree. When you put it in perspective it was logical. If you are failing a subject and know someone that could help, why not ask them to help? But even in his smart brain, the situation sounded so insane and out of this world. Him? Tutor her? His palms were already sweaty and his mind felt like it was starting to forget the most basic of the elements in the periodic table. Was it Helium, Lithium, Beryllium? Where was Oxygen again? Still, he was saying yes and agreeing on a time and a place before he knew it. 

Biology wasn’t his best subject, but he believed there had to be some substance she expelled out of her body to make him agree to whatever she asked for so easily.

“Not bad” Harry hummed, reading over one of the exercises he’d asked y/n to do, pushing his hair out of his face and sliding his glasses up his nose as he scribbled on the sides of the paper. Compared to how little he had explained so far and how much she seemed to be struggling, the sheet had more correct answers than he thought he would achieve on the second day of tutoring her.

Y/N was sat at his desk in his dorm room and Harry’s sweaty palms had calmed down a lot since she arrived an hour before. The whole idea of tutoring her was still crazy to him, specially when in the back of his mind he knew that before she was set to arrive, he had taken a nap and dreamt, once more, of her riding his thigh and moaning his name in his ear, and Harry just had to jerk himself off quickly before the real y/n showed up at his door. It was hard to look at her smiling face whenever she understood a concept, and not picture how much he would like to have her spread on his mattress under his body, or wonder how accurate her real life moans were compared to the ones his subconscious made in his imagination, but Harry was making his best efforts to continue focused despite the looming memory of that one dream.

“Awesome!” she chirped back, reading Harry’s notes on the sides of her exercises and putting them in her backpack to revise later. Letting out a sigh she picks up the rest of her materials and books. “I’m spent, and hungry” y/n groans and Harry can’t help but chuckle. Thankfully the past study sessions had also served him to not be so stuttery and shy around her, allowing him to get somewhat comfortable when it came to talking to her.

To him it seemed like a miracle that he’d ever be able to be fairly casual around y/n, but he was handling it so well he even surprised himself – and y/n a little – when he let out a “Let’s go grab something to eat then” after she’d stretched and gotten up from her seated position with a smile after Harry’s statement.

That’s how, 15 minutes later, y/n finds herself sat in a booth at a burger joint in front of a Harry that she’d started getting to know slowly. Deep down she was also thankful that she seemed to be getting along with Harry smoothly, knowing how strangely nervous she would get around him. A few weeks back she was completely convinced that Harry never saw her as a friend, considering how he basically avoided talking to her, but she’s glad to see him speaking freely and see herself laughing along with the curly lad as they joke over what’s left of her serving of fries. And y/n didn’t know it then, but Harry felt the same way.

“You know…” she starts, intrigued and amused by how quickly they had grown more comfortable around each other “I always thought you didn’t like me” Y/N’s cheeks are flushed red under Harry’s strong gaze through his frames.

“What? Why?” Harry wonders out loud, fixing his glasses around. How could she think he didn’t like her? Quite contrary, he was shocked she didn’t already know he died inside every time he caught a glimpse of her smiling his way. Y/N shrugs.

“I don’t know, we never really talked much” “I did like yeh. I do.” the words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, and so Harry’s left scrambling to make sure his actual feelings aren’t exposed on the booth’s table. “I mean, you uh… You j-just looked nice and... and I never really knew w-what to say to you, s-so I… I don’t know I k-kept my distance?” luckily y/n nods, understanding what he meant.

“You know what you could have talked to me about?” “What?” “Chemistry 101. We had it together! Maybe I wouldn’t be taking it for the second time if you had spoken to me back then” she jokes, mocking anger and pointing at him accusingly, making Harry throw his head back in laughter. “Oh god. Yeah, maybe” he says, shrugging after taking a deep breath and sip from his soda “but I didn’t want you to hold me back” he smirks, biting back at her joke making her gasp in shock. “Harry!” and they both continue to poke fun at each other and fill the small restaurant with loud laughs that could easily get them kicked out if it wasn’t for the fact that the place was almost empty.

The laughs they share and details they discover about each other, keeps both Harry and y/n busy enough not to see the seething stares of one young bully from across the street. Jonathan’s fists tighten at the sight, almost drawing blood, and if his personal vendetta with Harry wasn’t already personal enough, this had just made it.

Walking to and from his dorm to class was about a level 4 out of 10 of a dangerous situation for Harry. He tried to do it early, or when a lot of people were around so he could blend in and escape Jonathan whenever he could.

And in hindsight, Harry wonders if he’d been more alert and less occupied on what he would teach y/n later that afternoon – and how cute she’ll look once again – maybe he would have noticed that, this time around, Jonathan had a hawk-like vision driven by rage and hunger for his target, him. Maybe he would have noticed that today Jonathan seemed a lot more angry than any other time he’d faced the broad shoulders of what many would call his nemesis. Maybe he would have been more prepared to receive the punch that left him blank for 10 seconds.

Harry couldn’t pinpoint it at the moment, but every kick and shove, came with a venomous tongue, like Jonathan had wanted to inflict so much more damage than ever before. Harry’s ears rang as he felt another blow to his head, and he stumbled back, books long forgotten and glasses surely broken at his side. Was this what getting the shit beat out of you was? Was this his death? He wondered, but thankfully a passerby turned out to be a friend, that rushed to his aid, and through a blurry view, he made the outline of a man that helped him back to his dorm.

Y/N almost about screamed at the sight.

“Oh my god!” she said letting her books drop to the ground and entering Harry’s room, grabbing his face in her hands and inspecting all the bruises. A purple eye, scrapes and scratches along his cheeks, a busted lip and dried blood all around his features. “What the fuck?!”

Harry winced stepping back from her and letting his body down on his mattress. He waved his hand at her, dismissing the issue like it was no big deal, saying it looked worse than it felt, which didn’t ease y/n’s mind in the least, as she dropped to her knees in front of Harry and took a closer look.

“Harry…” “‘M fine, S’just a purple eye and a scrape ‘ere and there” “This is not just a-” “I’m fine” he says taking a hold of her hand and giving her a comforting smile that does anything but comfort her, but she drops it for the time being, looking to his bedside table, where his spare glasses sat untouched next to the broken ones, and handing him back the bag of ice he apparently had pressed to his face before she arrived. Harry insisted on continuing his chemistry tutoring, claiming that if his memory didn’t fail him, her teacher was one for surprise quizzes.

“Harry…” y/n mumbled, poking at his side. He kept swaying and dozing off on her and her worry levels were at about 15 out of 10. “Hm” he groans, shaking his head as if coming back to life. “Harry, please, I’m worried” “S’ nothing. Jus’ a headache… feeling a bit woozy” “What if you have a concussion?” she presses on, biting her lip in fear. Harry needed a doctor ASAP and he was being so stubborn not letting her take him to one. Harry scoffed at her remark. “Christ, y/n, I don’t ‘ave a concussion” but his words were slurred and slower than usual, and the look on her face tugged at Harry’s heartstrings. She was fidgety and scared. He sighed “Fine… if it makes yeh feel any better, we’ll go to the emergency room” “Please!” y/n was on her feet and gathering her belongings in a flash, as Harry swayed to and fro, holding on to his throbbing head and taking slow steps towards her. Y/N tried her best to help the tall man leaning against her small frame on the way to her car, and in a rush towards a doctor before any of the very dark and horrible scenarios in her head could seep in.

Harry’s eye looked better and his wounds had been cleaned properly in a matter of minutes, by a nice nurse that kept reassuring y/n that her ‘boyfriend’ would be fine and she should stop worrying, but she couldn’t as she saw Harry, dead silent on a hospital bed and she sat by his side.

“No concussion miss, we’ve cleaned his wounds and gave him some medication for the pain, he might be a little dizzy and sleepy for a while. I’d recommend he sleeps it off” a doctor had told her with a soothing voice which relieved her greatly – at least the doctor had a voice that could calm her down, and the news she brought eased y/n visibly –

“Hmmm” Harry groaned, not bothering to open his eyes any wider than little slits, when y/n tried to get him back on his feet and towards her car after everything had been cleared up. Y/N took a deep breath in and out, trying her best not to worry anymore. He was fine. Nothing too bad had happened, and now he needed to rest. “C’mon you need to sleep” she gave him a soft smile as she helped him back into his dorm room and on the way to his bed and he groaned. “What time is it?” he whispered letting his body fall on the mattress. The headache was a lot less poignant and they had applied some ointment or whatever, on his eye that would help it miraculously heal faster. “Around 3:30, why?” “Ugh–” he grumbled – ”Have… a class soon”

Y/n’s hands pushed back at Harry’s chest immediately sensing that he’d want to get up and get on his way to a class that he clearly wasn’t in good enough state to attend to. “Jesus, no, Harry.” “I 'afta...” “You can’t attend a class this way. You need to sleep, and that’s final” she added with a stern voice anticipating his interruption. Harry let himself be tucked in by y/n’s delicate hands. “Can’t miss it… Exam soon” his words were cut short, his body ready to shut down, drunk with numbing drugs that he could no longer fight against. “I… I’ll go take notes for you, okay? But you need to sleep” “I have a… complicated note system” “Of course you do” y/n giggles. “I’ll try my best”

Any other moment Harry would refute, but just this one time he nodded to her words and allowed his eyes to close for a second, his bed had something like a magnetic pull suddenly, felt comfier than ever to his bruised body. “Just record it, yeah?” “I got it, no problem. Do call me if you need me, anything, I’ll be back after my class at 5, yeah?” and like a child being taken care of his mother when he was sick, Harry hummed an agreement and felt y/n’s lips drop a small kiss on his forehead. “Take… key” he says however he can, pointing to his keychain by the door so y/n can let herself back in afterwards, in case he was still knocked out from the medication, before settling into his covers with a groan of pain. And with that y/n left to try and make sense of a sociology class and Harry’s complex yet precise note taking system.

Even in a drug heavy nap, Harry can make the outline of y/n’s bare body in his dream, and it’s around two hours later when he wakes up alert, and much more relieved, that he decides he needs a cold shower for two reasons before y/n came back.

He takes a moment in his shower to think about how his life seems to be a dream itself. He still has a hard time accepting the fact that he’s been talking and hanging out with y/n more and more the last few days, and that he can now laugh and joke around her. His heart still beats the same erratic way and his blood rushes in his veins like it used to, and she still haunts his dreams most of the time, waking him up in a sweat and with an itch to press her down on his body, but now he gets to have the real y/n a lot closer than he used to and it’s messing with his head in ways he doesn’t know how to deal with yet.

He’s just stepping out of the shower and into his room, clad in a towel wrapped around his hips and with the cold air nipping at his shoulders, where droplets of water fall from the curly tips of his hair, when the door to his dorm is closed shut after y/n allows herself in. She’s confused at the sight of Harry’s bed being empty only to turn around and crash with his wet naked torso.

“Oh god!” she’s quick to jump back, mimicking his steps in the opposite direction. Cheeks tainted a deep red the same as his. She only gets a quick glance of his body that assures her he is in fact nude, before covering her eyes from the view of Harry with just a loosely tightened towel around his most important parts. “Sorry! Sorry, oh god!”

Y/N was frozen in her spot and so was Harry. He stuttered and scrambled his way around his room to get dressed, holding y/n by her shoulders to move her out of the way of his drawers, as she did her best to keep her eyes away from the image of harry’s tatted nakedness.

When it was clear to look, Harry let her know with a lump in his throat from how awkward the whole interaction was, and y/n made sure to peek through the cracks in her fingers to test the waters, spotting Harry fully clothed, she sighed and proceeded to apologise some more. “I’m s-sorry, I… I should have knocked, I just, god” “I-it’s ok. Uh, yeah…” his fingers came up to fidget his glasses around and scratch at the back of his neck in embarrassment. He tried to focus on the fact that the situation was uncomfortable, and not think of how in his dreams a situation like that would have a very different outcome.

Dropping his notebook on his desk, y/n told him all she remembered of his class, the notes she’d taken were messy but Harry was surprised and touched that she’d tried her best at copying his note-taking style. She had done it with pencil – so in case she made any mistakes, Harry could arrange them later on – and the scribbles on the edges had multiple arrows pointed to different notes and asterisks. He chuckled at the small ‘sorry!’ she had written at the end of the notes, probably when the class had ended. “Thank you, y/n, really.” “No problem, It’s so messy, but hopefully you can understand” she smiled at him, sitting herself at the edge of his bed. “It’s great, it really is. Yeh didn’t have to” he says with his dimples showing and cheeks blushing, sitting down next to her. “Which reminds me…” he says reaching back and pulling out a notebook that seems to be filled front to back “Right ‘ere… ’S my Chem 101 notebook. Figured it’d help yeh a bit t’have it” he hands her the book that is in perfect condition considering it’s been a year and a half since he last touched it or the book has seen the light. “Oh my! Thank you!” y/n’s smile is big and making Harry’s heart do a lot more flips than he thought was humanly possible or healthy.

Y/N couldn’t help but stare at his bruises, happy he seemed to be much more awake and no longer in as much pain, but still sour that he’d even had to go through it in the first place. Harry notices how she grows silent and places his hand on her shoulder trying to comfort her. “Hey, stop… I’m okay” “I feel so bad…” “Don’t… You’ve done nothing wrong and you’ve nothing t’worry about” he says giving her a comforting smile trying to cheer her up, but he’s immediately caught of guard by the shine in her eyes that looks like tears. Y/N surprises him by wrapping her arms around him, causing them to lay down on his mattress in a cuddle. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, his palms sweaty, and his eyes open wide in shock as y/n lets out soft sighs and sobs on his chest. He rubs loving circles on her back, confused as to why this is making her so upset. “Hey…” he whispers in her ear, pulling her close to his frame “Don’t cry. ’S okay” “I’m so sorry Harry.” “Y/n, it’s not your fault, please…” he stresses, but she shakes her head and looks up at him through tears, placing a hand on his cheek. Her eyes are glossy and her sad expression makes Harry’s heart ache for her, he wants her to smile, always, no matter how taken aback he is when she says her next words. “It is, Harry. It is my fault…”

Thanks for reading! I’m working on part three so that it can be posted in a few days, a week tops. FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED PLEASE!!! I want to know what you think of this and why you think y/n swears it’s her fault? hmmm. Part three will be the last one of this little Marcel story but there are more Marcel ideas in my drafts and I’d love to write more about this specific Marcel if you’d like me to :)

Smooches Iv. XO.

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