#SHOOT I FORGOT SOME ORGANIZING TAGS

[starchivist]

warnings for below the cut: unintentional misgendering (a character that uses it/its is referred to by they/them), paralysis, mention of someone being eaten

“Commander,” the imposter says with a nod as they try to pass him by.

Fox has his blaster up and aimed before they can go anywhere. “Not another step,” he warns.

The imposter’s eyes flick from the muzzle of his blaster to the view of his helmet, burning gold set deep in unhealthily pale skin.

“In any direction?” they ask, eyes narrowing. Then, before he can answer, they frown and glance to the side. Footsteps, and accompanying voices; a Senator he recognizes (and hates), chatting with his aide and at another Guard. “Nevermind,” the imposter says, and Fox staggers back as a rush of cold, salty air blows around him.

“Breathe, Commander,” the imposter advises, brusque, and something metallic clangs as fog fills his vision.

“What,” Fox wheezes, “the kriff was that?” He goes to jerk his blaster up again, and a cold shiver runs down his spine when his arms won’t move. None of his limbs will move when he tells them to, stuck in place like they’ve been frozen in carbonite.

There’s a pause as Fox catches his breath. Then, incredulous, the imposter demands “‘Kriff’? What the fuck kind of expletive is that? No, don’t answer,” they dismiss, and heavy footsteps come closer. A pair of hands pull his helmet off, suprisingly gentle, and Fox glares blinkingly at the imposter as they step back out of his space. “Breathe,” they say again as they set his helmet by his feet. Straightening, they tug his blaster out of his hands and toss it carelessly through the window to the side. It lands with a muffled clatter. Apparently satisfied, they turn their eyes back to him as they lean against the metal bars.

“What did you do?” Fox demands, refusing to let the dread rising in his chest show on his face.

“Commander Fox,” the imposter says blandly, low and rasping like something is wrong with their throat, wiggling their fingers at him in a sarcastic half-wave. “My name is Kisca. When you’re asking what I did, you’re going to have to be more specific about which ‘what’ you mean. I’ve done a lot of shit.”

Great; he’s gotten a smartass. “Where are we?” He asks, still trying desperately to move. “What is this place?”

Kisca tilts their head. “We’re in my Domain ― so far the prevailing name for it is the Foghouse. The answer for what it is takes a bit more explaining than I think you want to be stuck for, so take the first answer at face value.”

Fox grits his teeth. “Fine,” he snaps. “Who are you and what have you done with the Chancellor?”

Kisca raises a thin eyebrow. Something about them ― changes. They stand away from the wall, hunched slightly with their shoulders rounded and sloping downwards, a kindly smile on their face. “Commander Fox, I am the Supreme Chancellor,” they say ― in Chancellor Palpatine’s voice. Fox didn’t even notice them fading the Chancellor’s voice out as they talked, but now that they’ve switched back it’s frighteningly obvious. If he wasn’t staring straight at them he would’ve thought he just heard the Chancellor himself.

“What the kark are you?” he asks, hard.

Kisca’s eyebrows go up as they lean back against the wall. “This place has some weird fucking expletives,” they say, rasping again. “What I am is rather a long story, Commander. For the sake of time, I’m skipping the whole exposition thing ― there are better choices for a narrator of that particular story, anyway. Going back to the second part of your question, what I did was eat him.”

For a moment, all Fox can do is stare in horror. “You ― what?”

“Ate him,” Kisca repeats, bland and creaking. “He would’ve been a better meal for Artemy, given how terrified he was of dying, but ― I’m the one who’s here, so I’m the one who ate him. It works out, in any case ― this way the Galactic Senate gets somebody who isn’t actively tearing it apart from the inside.”

#star wars #starchives crossover #character: Kisca #character: Commander Fox #pov: fox #posted: 23rd. october 2022 #i wanted to describe the foghouse in more detail but unfortunately the words would not cooperate #but yeah kisca totally did a not-them on palpatine #no idea if i'm gonna stick with fox being the one to go 'hey who the absolute fuck are you' #or if i'm gonna have it be someone else #atm my other top choice is mace #'cause of his shatterpoints thing #and also i kinda just wanna have two resting-bitch-face assholes (affectionate) snarking at each other #whether i keep fox or not i'm thinking i'm gonna have dooku be COMPLETELY fucking unaware #that this ain't actually the sith lord he's been serving for years #kisca starts negotiating with seperatist forces and dooku goes 'uh. beg pardon??????' #SHOOT I FORGOT SOME ORGANIZING TAGS #draft snippet #collective timeline emperor kisca

[paprikadotmp4]

wip ask game

ヾ(＠⌒ー⌒＠)ノ

tagged by the lovely @ladytauria !! thank yew bb ♡

rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your wip folder and tag as many people as there are documents. let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

hMmMMmmMMMmmm... i'll organize by ship because i think that's easier:

BRUJAY 1. delusional bruce 2. grooming???? i guess?? 3. mafia jason x doctor bruce 4. stoke a fire (suicidal jason mob au)

BRUJAYDICK 5. but make them freaks

DICKTIM 6. [gift for my good friend ****] 7. dicktim chapter 1

JAYBUCKY 8. to hold saltwater in your mouth

JAYCEST 9. ak!jay x rh!jason dimension displacement

JAYDICK 10. "wow officer grayson," jason simpers, 11. brother dear spinoff 12. earth 3 is sooo sexxceee 13. scumbag dick but it's cute

JAYROY 14. jaybin x speedy mutual noncon

JAYTIM 15. AITA for not realizing i'm in love with my crime lord roommate? 16. [super secret collab w the boys ( *︾▽︾)] 17. darkroom (black, white, red light) 18. darlings kill you dead (/ pretty when you kill?) 19. deliver your eulogies (rr) 20. in motion time loop 21. online friends identity shenanigans 22. point and shoot (and have some fun, baby) 23. [frantic fanfic with 🍜] 24. [another frantic fanfic with 🍜]

JAYTIMDAMI 25. momegaverse [for ****]

JONDAMI 26. damian being a meanie 27. where dami thinks jonjay are together but they're just fwbs

KHOAJAY 28. chokehold (aka pining for bruce)

ROBINPILE 29. paprika interviews some vampires

SLADEJAY 30. roadtrip + injury 31. slade x eng major jason but subverted 32. speed dating is for schmucks [frantic fanfic with 🪼🐈] 33. [heheheh gift for ********; has romanjay]

TIMDAMI (urgh i forgot people call this damitim but i can't rearrange the numbering anymore இ௰இ) 34. a fine line / play nice / they fck in the cave or smth 35. deliver your eulogies (jaytim rr but timdami ver) 36. tmdm casefic plotting

i think most people i know have been tagged... just in case though, tagging: @37nightwalker @jacenpetertodd @disniq @marsupialmenace @azol-otl @setsailslash ??? come on buds!! ♡♡♡

#ask meme #answered #papi paprika #batc'est la vie

[gditrisha]

Constancy | part 1 The Commitment

PAIRING: miguel o'hara x fem!reader / afab!reader GIST: Pinterest Boards, Wedding Expos, and all that jazz! Fem!Reader / AFAB!Reader is having a field day sharing her Dream Wedding to her husband-to-be. TAGS: established relationship, discreet proposal, marriage preparations, fluffy, domestic, wedding au TRISHA NOTES: aside from my writing, i designed some visuals and moodboards to make these imagines as immersive as possible! CONSTANCY SERIES | WRITING MASTERLIST 

Imagine one day Miguel initiated a conversation you'd least expect - he asks you about your "dream wedding". let's just say he once caught you peacefully curled up on the couch, remote still in hand with the TV auto-playing wedding planning videos it's taken over your algorithm, it is full of it

"Really???" you beamed then immediately retrieved your tablet, showed him your Pinterest Board, and had an absolute field day just explaining why certain details would work best

Miguel finds it adorable how your "Dream Wedding" Pinterest board is organized. He's amazed how everything is categorized with pics from attire such as rich-toned suits to dainty bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses as well as different possible motifs, venues, venue styling, and table settings

You find it so sweet of Miguel to involve himself in the conversation, "Hmmm...instead of this suit, I'll wear the red maroon one. I don't think green sage is my color."

this came to you as a surprise cuz you knew he'd rather have a civil wedding. weddings are very costly and it's the vows that matter anyway, right? but he's actually giving suggestions???

Miguel notices the furrowed brow, he runs his thumb over it cuz it isn't a good look to your sunny self "What? I said green isn't my color...and sí, cariño...let's have a real wedding."

He then slides the engagement ring box on the table. it's a simple band encrusted with diamonds. he thought the simple design would go well with any of your rings cuz he knows you like to layer it

There's a high muffled "AAAAAAAHHHH" as you cover your mouth. You bounce on your tiptoes cuz you can't contain your excitement, Miguel carries you, carefully swinging you around in the living room, and gives you a kiss on your temples and lips

You'd both attend lots of Bridal Expos for weeks to come; trying to find more inspiration for your wedding and finalize your suppliers. Miguel holding your hand and pointing at the booths for the both of you to try. Imagine feeding each other free samples of cake and drinking wine (as if it were the ceremony already) garnering some "Awwws" from those managing the booths. You'd return back to your place with LOTS of pamphlets and business cards

The prenup photos isn't your typical shoot with a theme set in the day. No. As bubbly as you are, you knew a day photoshoot didn't fit either of you. You both enjoyed the evening as there are no expectations from either of you, everything is more quiet, reserved for each others' company. The photoset features the city night lights and how you both welcome each other in the hazy glow, beautiful smiles captured in stills similar to a Wong-kar Wai film.

You change the name of the Pinterest Board to “Save the Date” and continue your discussion about the board. Editing it during your free time after kicking anomaly butt and saving the Spiderverse

This is the motif you and Miggy come up with. A mix of rich tones and soft hues. The warmth of burgundy and amber blended with the coolness of tan and sage.

TRISHA NOTES: I forgot I owned a wedding board myself and idk the delulu in me was like might as well. But on a serious note, I was just thinking of the possibility of it coming true someday ahihihi getting married I mean. Anywaaay, trying to have intervals between posts cuz I don't wanna rush it but Part 2 goal is 2nd week of September!

#divider credit: @cafekitsune #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #the miguel effect #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #migue' o'hara x afab!reader #afab!reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara is yn #miguel o'hara scenarios #reader is very sunny #sunny x grumpy #sunny/grumpy #imagines #moodbaords and banners by me #wedding planning #spiderman 2099 #mine #uploads #trisha's content #atsv #graphics #moodboard

[samwise1548]

this is me asking you about tmagp is actually jmarts kids. i am asking for just any and all rambles you have rattling around. but also here are some more specific questions:

what are the kids’ names 👁👁….

what are their ages????

is this part of a somewhere else au? time travel perhaps? post-change or some other wacky circumstances?

do these kids work for the government

are the children the protagonists of your tmagp or are they an ever-present force driving the mcs up the wall

if this is time travel and this is their quest to jon to quit and meet martin under Normal Circumstances, who lets it slip that they’re their kids first, and how does that go over?

do these kids work for the government

and i am welcoming any and all other relevant ideas you may have. you have intrigued me

First off, thank you for this. I don't have too many thoughts right now cuz it was just meant to be a joke but then I actually designed the kids and got attached lol. So it might just turn into a fix it au. To answer your questions:

Adam (she/her) is 19, and Hadiya (they/them) is 14

It's meant to be a fix-it. In the case of Jon and Martin survive and end up somewhere else. After they've settled a bit, gotten married, and are finally comfortable they have two kids: Adam and Hadiya. I'm going to say for now "something happens." I'll figure that out later (unless someone has ideas which I'm open to hearing). The kids steal some artifact or another from the evil organization Jonny and Alex are introducing in tmagp that allows them to travel back in time to s1 (I'm gonna say it's a one use item so I don't have to deal with complications :P). And they go about trying to set Jon and Martin up without interfering with the metaplot or actually revealing themselves. And also to stop some bigger evil that I also have not came up with yet

They were meant to be the two main protagonists of tmagp but it's since changed plot as I write this down.

Oh I hadn't thought of them accidentally revealing themselves to their younger parents!!! Omg I wonder which one would!! From the limited stuff I have thought of, Adam would seem like the type to accidentally reveal it to Jon and Martin, being a bit louder in her opinions and thoughts. Whereas Hadiya is quieter and more calculated. But it'd be interesting if Hadiya was the one to accidentally let it slip. Maybe they started to miss their parents and cry about it to the not-together-yet coworkers. Oh this is actually a really cute idea!!!

They do not work for the government, no

Extra stuff!! Ok so Adam's age is because I don't want her to be the same age as me, so she's one year younger. Originally I had their names switched but I liked the idea of the older one of them being Adam better. They are both trans. Adam prefers Jon and Hadiya prefers Martin. Hadiya has some grey streaks in their hair that I forgot to include, and Adam inherited Martin's freckles but they only show when she's been under the sun too long.

Here's a picture of my notes when I first got the idea earlier today. Oh shoot! You can tell I didn't reference this scribble when I made that comic cuz I forgot I gave Adam a cane! I'll have to keep that in mind going forward.

Here's also this sketch that I messed up on:

I'm gonna be tagging this as a tma au going forward since it's diverged from my original plan.

Ok I'll let you go now :)

#tma #the magnus archives #tma au #tma timetraveling kids au #i need a brtter tag then that someone help me... #feel free to ask more about this au im getting invested!!! #my doodles #my thoughts

[withinstormywaters]

Howdy hey

This is our third attempt at writing an introduction post. Anyways. Welcome to our blog. Apologies in advance for the brainrot. It will happen again.

This blog is just kind of for whatever? We occasionally make art and sometimes remember to post it. Mainly reblog fandom stuff and things about DID. Possible vent posts. Maybe photography?

We try to keep things organized with tags. (more info below cut) We try to tag triggers. We’re not always the best at understanding what’s triggering so if there’s anything you’d like us to tag please let us know.

Breif about us

System name: Stormy Waters System. Collectively go by Stormy or Wade

Collective pronouns: they/them

Bodily 20

DID system with low communication and lots of identity confusion.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives / Protocol, FMAB, Epic The Musical, and Warriors. There’s got to be more I just can’t think.

Hobbies: drawing, crochet, reading (mainly fanfic), is walking a hobby???, and photography. Probably more. We do a lot of stuff but idk who does what haha. We want to learn how to sew.

Interests: flowers, animals, music (send us your favorite song?), math, DnD, teaching art, organizing, bones (some of us at least), and more that I’m probably forgetting.

We like talking to people so feel free to shoot us a message. If we haven’t responded in a couple days we probably didn’t see your message or forgot to respond. It’s totally okay to message us multiple times. We appreciate the reminders /gen

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Tags:

#stormy water system ⛈️ - for personal posts

#stormy waters art 🖌️ - art we’ve made

#stormy vents 🖤 - vent posts

#💚 for you - you know who you are <3

#stormy waters system ⛈️ #stormy waters art 🖌️ #stormy vents 🖤 #💚 for you #🌻🌺 #woof #haha woof

[unbindingkerberos]

Clandestine Meeting

Words: 887

Warning(s): None

Tags: @poisonedtruth @children-of-epiales @shegetsburned @unpetitoiseau

"Adler, where the hell are you?" A voice crackles in Henry's comms. "Taking care of some pests, Cohen." Henry replies, voice obscured by rapid firing coming from his assault rifle. The mercenaries had just cornered him into a dead end. The only thing stopping the bullets from killing him was a wall that that he was leaning on-- chunks of it clattering to the floor.. "I'll send in reinforcements they'll--" "No, no need." He manages to shoot three mercenaries down. Eliza's voice starts to rise in anger but Henry turns the comms off before she could even start. He doesn't want her nagging to get in his way. The rifle eventually jams and Henry sighs in irritation, ducking from the zipping bullets. He feels something crawl out of his vest pockets and smiles.  

"Zulu-20.."  

The drone chirps in acknowledgement. "Make me proud." The drone makes haste and crawls to the mercenaries. The enemies were so focused on taking out Henry that they didn't notice the little drone. Viewing the footage from Z20 from his watch, Henry got a clear picture of the other side. With a twisted smile, he opens another application.  

Just by a single tap, the mercenaries were gone in a loud, explosive flash and all that was left of them was a large spot of soot and fallen debris. Henry wolf whistles, examining his latest work. Feeling a presence behind him, Henry pulls out his pistol and-- 

He tuts and puts the pistol back into his holster. "I could have shot you, Deimos."

"Do you have what I asked for?" 

Henry tosses something to him. The other man receives it, revealing the item in his palm. Deimos huffs. The item in question is a sleek black USB drive; containing sensitive information within the RAINBOW organization from operator files to the facility's floor plan. "I knew I could rely on you." Deimos tucks the drive in his pocket. Henry rolls his eyes, scoffing. "Were you beginning to question my loyalty or my ability?"

Deimos laughs dryly. "Did you really have to ask? Loyalty to you is simply nonexistent." He moves in closer and Henry narrows his eyes. "As for your ability to get the job done, well it was exceptional." Deimos glances at the area where Z20 detonated. "I remembered when RAINBOW was just like this: a ruthless and merciless pack of apex predators who gave not a single damn." Deimos sighs, reminiscing of the old days of bloodshed and violence. 

"But that came to an end when Harry stepped in as the new Six, I'm guessing." Henry replied, a bored and sardonic tone in his voice. Deimos stares at him, an ominous air in the wind. "You already have suspicions on what I'm going to do next right?" Henry nods. The other man laughs, clasping both his hands together. "Right, I forgot. You don't give a damn about anyone.." 

Henry huffs in annoyance when Deimos's gloved hand lifts his chin. "Which is why you confuse me, Babel. You clearly don't show loyalty to anyone but yourself. However--" with his other hand, Deimos taps his forehead--"you still work for them. For Harry. Why not join my cause? I need predators like you to take down men like Harry." Henry's nostrils flared and he swatted away Deimos's hand. 

"I don't think I'm inclined to reply."

The sound of gunfire and shouting mercenaries were faint but slowly growing near. "I guess this marks the end for our appointment." Deimos grins behind his mask. He gives Henry a few pats in the back before walking away-- disappearing in the shadows. The sounds of footsteps were growing louder. Henry switched his comms back on.

"Adler!"

Henry meets Eliza's furious gaze and returns with a smile. "Ah! Still in one piece I see!" The woman marches toward him, Jordan following behind. Her arm was about to swing at Henry when Jordan intervened. "Ash, don't. It's not worth it." 

Its always like this after missions, Henry thought. They should have at least gotten used to it by this point. A voice crackles in their comms telling them that the mission is complete and that transportation is on the way. As they left however, Henry could still feel that lingering presence.

--

It was after he repaired his drone when Henry received an encrypted message from Deimos. The task was to monitor Harry and notify Deimos when something interesting or valuable is noted. Henry hums and purses his lips in deep thought.

"Henry!"

He looks behind him to see Marius approaching him. He lifts a brow. "What brings you here?" There were a couple of possibilities playing in his mind. Does Marius want to talk more about his Leeches? Or perhaps the German wants to ask Henry's opinion on modifications he plans to make on the Magpie. 

"There's this documentary I found about upcoming technological innovations and I think you might like it.."

Henry's mouth went agape, baffled by the offer. "You want me to watch a documentary with you?" Marius nods eagerly. He bites his lower lip; remembering the task he was given. He could just tell Marius that he isn't interested but at the same time, he doesn't. Oh well. Stalking Harry and his every move could wait.

"I can see nothing wrong with that. Have you decided the time?"

#rainbow six siege #henry adler #rainbow six oc #henry babel adler #r6 oc #r6 oc babel #r6 deimos #r6 jager #r6 ash (brief appearance) #r6 thermite (brief appearance)

[fyeahnix]

Title: Eden Pairing: Ash/Maggie (MadAsh) Other Characters: Random poor sook Rating: Teen and Up for language and canon-typical violence Words: 662 Prompt: Inspired by art from Cryophase. Art used with permission. Other Tags: Flirting, Does Ash Have a Praise Kink? Find Out Summary: Mad Maggie knew her own weaknesses; Ash knew how to cover them.

If you like it PLEASE REBLOG. You can read it here or on AO3, via the link found in the notes of this post. Please read on AO3 if you prefer correct formatting!

------

Mad Maggie was no slouch when it came to crunching faces in and shotgunning a poor sook in the arse when they turned tail and ran. But she had her blind spots. You didn't lead any old resistance or two without acknowledging and confronting your flaws. She'd had enough close calls with death to count on her fingers and toes and a few locks of hair. Too many to count.

She stared death in the face once more. She wasn't afraid to die.

She knew she wouldn't.

Not today.

The initial scuffle around Gardens died down to a barefisted brawl. The bugger got one good right hook to her jaw. It was perfectly executed, had some damn good force behind it, that's for sure. Maggie smiled and painted freshly-cut grass with her own blood and saliva.

"What? That all you got? Hah! I've had ten year olds hit me harder 'an you back on Salvo."

Maggie herself got two licks in before the cunt whined and reached for the discarded Mastiff nearby. She managed to scramble to her knees before the challenger pointed it at her.

She raised her hands, smiling. "A'ight, you got me, kid. Guess these old bones are creakier than I thought." She goaded them with a quick gesture. "C'mon. Take ya best shot. Don't you wanna be known as the one who killed Mad Maggie?"

She sized up her opponent. Young fella. Wet behind the ears. Probably never held a gun before. They pointed the shotgun in her face, close enough to smell the spent gunpowder. Potassium nitrate and raw ass. Reminded her of ol' Wally.

She guffawed in the kid's face at the lack of action. "What? Lost ya stones? Or you ain't ever killed no one before?"

The taunting seemed to do it. They growled and rested their fingers on the trigger.

"Act fast kid. Here, I'll help you. On the count 'a three, shoot me. Ready? One…"

Frozen in place.

"Two—"

CRACK!

The unmistakable rip of a Longbow. From behind her.

The challenger dropped to the ground, clutching their shoulder.

"Tsk, shame. Forgot to tell ya 'bout my partner."

Said partner's voice crackled over the radio with a timbre neatly between organic and synthetic. And a lack of sympathy. "They were going to shoot."

"Now's the bloody time ya decide to ruin my fun?"

"Your definition of 'fun' perturbs me."

Maggie scoffs. The challenger groaned in pain in the grass below her. She wrestled the Mastiff from their grip. Kicked them over on their back.

"Sorry, kid, my girl's a little trigger-happy"—a click of the tongue resounds over the radio, or the closest thing to it—"so you're gonna have to excuse 'er. In the meantime, have fun back in the respawn chamber, will ya?"

With one blast of the Mastiff, the challenger was knocked out, soon to be shipped off to medical.

Ash had climbed into the nearest cherry blossom tree for a vantage point. Maggie had to give her props for the ingenuity, but it wasn't like she was totally hidden. Not exactly the pinnacle of tactical arrangements.

Still, Ash's descent from the branches was slow and deliberate. Like a snake in the garden of Eden, she slithered down and hung upside down just above Maggie's head.

Maggie reached out and grabbed a fistful of the adriatic fabric of Ash's hood. Pulled her closer.

Ash spoke first. "Evaluate me."

Maggie snorted. "Eager one today, ain't ya? I'll give you this—if we were back on Salvo, you'd have saved my arse. Keep doing what you're doing and maybe I'll have a little treat for ya back at home."

Ash leaned in, golden optics whirring at her words. Whatever thoughts ran through her brain, she ceased dwelling on them immediately. She dropped from the tree, nimble as a cat.

"I hope I'll be worthy of whatever that is," she said curtly.

And turned and walked away with an extra sway in her step.

#Apex Legends #Mad Maggie #Margaret Kōhere #Ash #Ashleigh Reid #MadAsh #writing #nix fics

[errythinisblue]

The Birthday Party

Mason Mount x Y/N one shot ( part two to “An Early Birthday Party”)

Summary: It’s Mason’s birthday finally, and you might be his favorite present.

Warnings: SMUT (it gets smutty at the end).

Notes: I posted this last night but it doesn’t show up in the tags (so this is me trying to post it once again to see what happens this time). Anyway I had time to proofread it, so at least this is better than the old one! Enjoy! And let me know what you think about it! 

The party you and Jaz organized was still in full swing, even after you all had dinner together. You and Mason agreed on the fact that his family should stay for the night, since it was cold outside and it was getting pretty late for them to go back home too. So once you both convinced everyone to stay, you went to the kitchen to prepare some hot chocolate while everyone else, including Mason, went to their room to put their pajamas on.

 As you were putting the hot chocolate in the cups you heard little footsteps making their way down the stairs, and immediately after, a little voice was calling out for you.

 “Auntie Y/N?” Summer called.

 “In the kitchen!” you answered, smiling to yourself, “Hey wow! What a nice onesie you have on!”

 “Thank you,” she blushed as she looked at her tiny feet, “Can I ask you something?” she was now looking up at you.

 “You can ask me anything you want munchkin,” you lowered yourself to take her in your arms and then sat her down on the kitchen counter, “now shoot!” you told her as you tickled her belly.

 “Since we all have our pajamas on…” she looked at you with her big brown eyes, “…can we have a sleepover?”

 “Summer that’s a great idea!” you heard Mason’s voice from behind your back, “We have the hot chocolate too, it’s perfect!” he told her while wrapping his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder to look at his niece.

 “Well, how about you choose a movie to watch during our sleepover,” you sweetly told them, “while I go to our room and put my pajama on?” you waited for their answer before going to your shared bedroom.

 “Okay!” Summer exclaimed, making grabby hands for Mason to put her down from the counter.

 “Okay!” he laughed at her eagerness, watching her run on her little legs towards the living room.

 “I’ll be down in a minute,” you told Mason leaving a sweet kiss on his lips, “can’t have you two choosing a Princess movie without me!”

 He laughed at that and made his way to the living room to find Summer on the sofa, with the remote already in her hands.

 “Can we watch Frozen??” she asked her uncle while she gave him the remote so that he could switch on the television.

 “Only if you promise me you’ll dance every single song with me.” he offered her his pinkie.

 “Okay I’ll do it!” she intertwined her little finger with his, her smile as bright as ever.

 “Now go and tell everyone that we’re doing a sleepover, I’m going to bring the hot chocolates in here.” he told her while he stood up from the sofa.

 She ran towards the stairs, almost crashing into your legs on her way there.

“Whoa! Where’s she running to in such a hurry??” you asked Mason as you kept your eyes on her small figure running up the stairs.

 “She went up to call the others!” he shouted from the kitchen, “Can you come here please??”

 “Coming!” you made your way to where he was, “What’s up?”

 “Can you help me bring the cups in the living room? I’ve already set the coffee table to put them on.” he asked you, taking some of the cups in his hands and making his way to the living room.

 “Couldn’t you just like…” you started while you were taking out a tray from one the cupboards, “grab this?” you finally asked him showing him the silver tray you were now putting the cups on.

 “Oh you’re right! I didn’t even think about it…” he told you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

 “Men…” you whispered, walking past him and making sure he heard you.

 “Hey! I only forgot one thing!” he whined from the kitchen.

 “More than one actually, can you bring the whipped cream over?? It’s in the fridge!” you asked him.

 “Got it!” he told you while he was making his way to you, showing you the whipped cream in his hand.

 Everyone else joined you a minute later, grabbing a cup from the table and getting comfortable to watch the movie.

 Summer sat between you and Mason, but that didn’t last very long. Just as the movie started and the first song of the movie played, she was already on her feet, offering her hand to her uncle to dance. Mason immediately took her small hand in his much larger one and stood up, starting to dance just as Summer did. Everyone else in the room started laughing at seeing the couple of them doing silly moves, but in a matter of seconds you were all dancing around the little girl.

 After a while everybody was back on the sofa once again, enjoying the movie. Summer moved to Mason’s lap this time, snuggling into his chest, clearly growing sleepier by the minute. She fell asleep not long after, her head now rested in the crook of Mason’s neck, her hands grabbing at the shirt of his pajama.

 Jaz and Sam stood up, ready to take their daughter to sleep. But once she went to take her in her arms Summer whined, not wanting to let go of her uncle.

 “C’mon baby let’s go to sleep…” Jaz softly whispered in her ear.

 “But I wanna sleep with uncle Macey…” she mumbled.

 “Aw baby you can’t..” Jaz told her.

 “Hey it’s not a problem really, she can sleep with us if you’re okay with that.” Mason told the pair of them, his voice soft as he didn’t want to bother his niece’s sleep.

 “You sure?” Sam asked the both of you.

 “Yeah, we promised her a sleepover after all!” you smiled at them as you stroked her cheek.

 “Okay, well we’re going to bed then. See you tomorrow, good night!” Jaz told you, leaving a kiss on Summer’s head.

 Mason’s parents were the next ones to go to bed, leaving you to switch off the television while he slowly got up from the sofa with Summer still in his arms. Seeing him like this made you feel in a certain way, it wasn’t the first time you saw him being this sweet and caring with Summer, but this time you felt different.

 “You coming?” Mason asked you, bringing you out of your thoughts.

 “Yup!” you made your way to where they stood, and together you made your way to your bedroom.

 -

 The morning after you woke up to Summer’s little fingers lightly poking at your arm.

 “Hey good morning princess, how did you sleep?” you softly asked her, not wanting to wake Mason yet. Even if he had training later in the morning, he could still sleep some more.

 “Good, should we wake uncle Macey up? I wanna wish him a happy birthday…” she told you.

 “Why don’t you wake him up?” you said to her, unable to resist her big brown eyes that reminded you so much of your boyfriend’s ones. Hopefully Mason would forgive you for letting Summer wake him up so soon.

 You watched as she slowly made her way on his lap, poking his stomach just like she did to your arm minutes before.

 “Uncle Macey?” she whispered, and you swore you could have melted right there and then at her sweet little voice. She was such a lovely girl, you quickly grew fond of her.

 “Mmh, good morning little one, you slept good yeah?” he took her in his arms, leaving a feather light kiss on her soft, chubby cheek.

 “I did!” she wriggled out of his grip and sat up on his stomach, “But I wanted to wake you up sooo bad ‘cause it’s your birthday! Happy birthday uncle Maceyyy!” she shouted cheerfully. You were quite sure that everyone else was awake by now, upon hearing her shout.

 “Thank you princess, I love you so much you know that?” he put his big hands on her tiny thighs, squishing them and making her giggle.

 “I love you too! But now let’s get up I’m hungry!” she slowly got out of bed and made her way to the door on her tippytoes.

 “C’mon you sleepyheads!” she called you once again once she saw you weren’t getting out of bed still.

 “She’s definitely got your same energy really!” you laughed as you got up.

 “Yeah, but I don’t have that kind of energy at like 7 in the morning.” he joked back, “I’ll probably have it when we go out tonight though, and later in the night too...” he winked at you, making his way to you, “now can I have a kiss since it’s my birthday?” he cupped your cheeks, looking at Summer for an answer.

 “Of course!” she giddily told him, turning around once again, “but make it quick, I wanna eat!” she laughed at you, making you laugh at her antics.

 Once you all had breakfast together it was time for Mason to leave for training, and for his family to go back home. So you were left on your own with a lot of things to rearrange.

 Luckily for you, you had a lot of time to put everything in order before you had to prepare yourself for the night out you were going to have. You knew the boys organized a surprise for Mason after the training, so you knew he would come home late to pick you up before going clubbing.

 Once you finished rearranging the living room you thought that it wasn’t that bad to have a whole day to yourself, as you could actually relax before the hectic night you would spend partying.

 -

 “Babe I’m home!” you heard Mason shout from downstairs. It was 11 pm and he was back home from the surprise dinner the boys organized for him, ready to pick you up and take you to the club where your friends were waiting for you.

 “In the bedroom!” you told him, “I’m almost ready!”

 “Wow,” he breathed from the door, “is this all for me??” his eyes going up and down your body.

 “Well, are you the birthday boy?” you asked him playfully.

 “I am,” he told you, putting his hands on your hips, “you look stunning love.” he whispered in your ear.

 “You don’t look too bad yourself…” you said to him while turning around to properly look at him. What you saw made your jaw drop, he was looking absolutely beautiful dressed in all black, with his black Prada jacket on, “Please remember me to thank Carlotta for choosing this outfit for tonight.” you said to him as you put your hands on his chest.

 “I will,” he laughed, “are you ready to go?”

 “Let me grab my purse,” you told him, “then we can go!”

 -

 The party at the club didn’t start until the birthday boy was there, so when you entered the club everybody started cheering and the music was immediately blaring from the speakers. Mason held your hand tightly in his right one, clearly wanting to make sure everybody in there knew that you were his.

 As a few of his friends made their way to wish him a happy birthday, you excused yourself and told Mason you would be at the bar where you spotted the girls. He reluctantly let you go, always keeping an eye on you, even from afar. Once he saw you greet Lauren, Sophia and the other girls, he relaxed a bit, but that short silver sequin dress you wore was making him unable to take his eyes off you.

 Two hours later the party was coming to an end, but not for you girls apparently. You were having the time of your lives as alcohol was flowing in your dancing bodies, while the guys were left to stare at you. Almost all of them had training the day after so they clearly couldn’t have too much to drink, nor they could go to sleep too late.

 “Babygirl it’s time to go home…” Mason grabbed your hips, standing in front of you and saying these words in your ear to make sure you could hear him over the loud music. His voice was huskier than before, his hold on your hips tight.

 “Oww, we were having so much fun!” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck.

 “I know baby but we have to go, everyone else is going home too…” he kissed your jaw and then left a trail of kisses from your cheek to your mouth, “…and I wanna take you home so that I can finally take this dress off you.” he added with his lips still on yours, caressing the thin straps of your dress.

 “So you really liked it huh?” you whispered in his ear.

 “You have no idea…” he growled, pulling you in by your hips and kissing you so hard you felt weak in the knees.

 -

 Once you were home he didn’t even give you the time to remove your coat, he removed it for you throwing it on the floor.

 “Mase, it’s my coat!” you scolded him.

 “I’m sorry babygirl, I just need you so much…” he kissed you grabbing your hands in his and putting them on his growing bulge, “can you feel what you’re doing to me?”

 You shook your head no, a smirk appearing on your red lips while your hands were still touching his jeans clad groin.

 “Let me show you then,” he took your hand and led you up the stairs, “come with me…”

 It was like he put you under a spell with his words as you followed him without even saying a words, enchanted and fascinated by him. Completely surrendered at the power he had over you.

 He slowly opened your bedroom door, his gaze never leaving your face, not even for a second, not even while he dragged you by your intertwined hands to the bed.

 “You are so beautiful…” he said, leaning down to press his lips to yours, making you moan at the contact.

 “…the most beautiful birthday present...” he continued as he was kneeling in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, sneaking them under your dress and slowly raising it to reveal your lace thong. He left a kiss on the hem of it, making goose bumps appear on your stomach. You whimpered at the feeling of his warm lips on your skin, wanting more of it instantly.

 “…that only I get to unwrap…” as he looked up at you, saying those words, you grabbed at the hem of your dress and removed it from over your head. Now you were almost completely naked in front of his burning stare, the only clothing piece on your body being the thong that Mason was now sliding down your thighs.

 His hands lightly made their way up your legs again, from your ankles, your calves, your thighs, up to your hips. You felt like he was worshipping your body, and that drove you crazy.

 You put your forefinger under his chin, making him look up at you.

 “Come here,” you softly told him, making him stand up, “you’ve still got too many clothes on yourself…” you added as you put your hands on his toned abs, he caught up on what you wanted and removed his black shirt.

 “You’re perfect Mase…” you said tracing his chest and collarbones, seeing a faint hint of blush appear on his cheeks,  “you really are…” you now whispered against the skin of his neck, kissing him there with open mouthed kisses.

 “Babygirl…” he groaned, “don’t tease.” he warned you, while he was unbuttoning his black jeans.

 “I wasn’t teasing…” you murmured, “I just find you irresistible…”

 “Lay down…” he told you sweetly. He wasn’t up for any games tonight, he only wanted to have you, to feel you, to love you.

 He completely removed his jeans and boxers and slowly made his way up your body, leaving wet kisses up your legs to your core. When he heard you whimper he went down on you, licking you, tasting you, moving his tongue slowly but with precise strokes, just as he knew you liked it.

 “Oh baby…” you breathed out, feeling already light headed, “…please don’t stop…” you moaned, while one of your hands tangled in his hair.

 It was when he heard the desperation in your voice that he started sucking on you clit, making you arch your back and grab at the sheets with your other hand. He had you seeing stars in a matter of minutes, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until the coil inside of you snapped, and you came on his tongue crying his name out loud.

 Once you came down from your high, you opened your eyes, finding a pair of brown ones staring down at you. You raised your head enough to kiss his plump lips, tasting yourself on them, moaning at the feeling. The kiss grew more passionate once again, pretty fast as you tangled both of your hands on the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan as you pulled on it.

 He grabbed your thigh and moved it higher on his hip, and while that kiss never seemed to end he slowly pushed into you. Your mouth fell open as you felt his dick entering you with such a slow thrust, while Mason bit your lower lip moaning at the feeling of your warmth around him.

 He lazily started moving his hips, groaning at how good he felt inside of you. He was resting his weight on his elbows by your head, his hands caressing your hair while he thrust into you, finally finding a steady pace that had you whimpering.

 “You feel so good babygirl…” he growled, “…your pussy was made for me.”

 “Mase…” you whined, “yes, just like that…”

 Your senses were already in overdrive, his pace was steady but so slow it had you feeling every inch of him fill you up to the point it was almost painful.

 “Please Mase I need you to go faster…” you whimpered, looking him in the eyes.

 He looked down at you, with a look of concentration on his face, his clenched jaw telling you he was holding back.

 “Please Mase don’t hold back…I need you so b-“ he didn’t even let you finish as he attached his mouth to yours. His hips going at an unrelenting pace right now that made your toes curl.

 “Look at me baby,” he told you as he felt you clench around him, “I want you to keep your eyes open while you cum. I want you to look at me while I make you cum on my dick.”

 “Oh God I’m so c-close Mase…” you whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open with all the feelings he was giving you.

 “I know babygirl, I’m right behind you…” he growled, thrusting his hips even faster while he chased both of your orgasms, “cum with me, now. Cum!” he ordered you grabbing your face in his hand, locking his eyes on yours. With a few forceful thrusts he pushed you over the edge and you came hard around him, your high triggering his own, as he came inside of you a moment later.

 You looked at him straight in his eyes as your high was making you tremble under him, a breathy moan leaving your lips as you watched his pupils dilate even more as he came, making his brown orbs turn completely black.

 He fell on top of you once he relaxed, his hand caressing your thigh that was still around his hip. You could feel his labored breathing calming down as your hand slowly went up and down his spine.

 “Happy birthday Mase…” you whispered in his ear.

 “Well that surely was a hell of a good one…” he yawned while he rolled off of you, “Thank you, you made this day really special y’know?”

 “I love you baby, I was more than happy to make it special for you…” you kissed him on his cheek as you put your arm around his stomach.

 “I love you too…” he mumbled while he was slowly drifting off, “so so so much…” he added as he kissed you on your forehead, falling asleep with his lips still on your skin.

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #football imagines #football fanfic #football fanfics #football one shot #football one shots #football smut #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfics #footballer one shot #footballer one shots #footballer smut #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfics #mason mount one shot #mason mount one shots #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

[xpeachesncream]

lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i’ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities​ @jimidol​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ @thebeebi​ @preciouschimine​ @ladyartemesia​ @moonchild1​ @jikookiekosmos​ @marcoazz2​ @kootaes​ @wearenot7withu​ @codeinebelle​ @bigbootyjoonie​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @maichiverse​ @ppeachyttae​ @fairysunooo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @yukiehyukie​

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

#bts #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #kook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts imagines #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jk angst #jk smut #jk fluff #xpeachesncream #lowkey series #nerd!jk #fake dating au

[girl8890]

Worst Enemies

Smile With Teeth (End)

{ Alice in Borderland Master List }

Summary: The game is over, but there’s still so much to do. You give Nirgai your own version of revenge, all while Chishiya is behind you waiting to have you in his arms again. You finally reunite and you both finally feel complete in this world, but there's still somethings that can’t go unsaid. 

Warnings: None.

Notes: This is also posted on AO3. If you want to read there instead, here’s THE LINK. 

Tags: @starjane312 @dream-escaper 

AIB ML | Index | Epilogue

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Same air, same room, same heartbeat. 

All in one place and all in one arena. 

Chishiya entered that room and his air was sucked out of his lungs, just like what happened on your first date. Even though you were yelling at Niagi and not facing him, the sound of your voice made his whole body react. No organs were doing there job and all he could do was stare at the back of your head.

When you turned around, finally making real eye contact with him, he felt his chest tighten. Like something that was needed to live, like water or food, has been away from him for so long. Now that he has that need in front of him, he forgets what to do. 

His feelings are clear. His heart his swooning for you because you're finally with him again.

You on the other hand, you have never felt this feeling before. If you were asked to describe it, you wouldn't be able to. It’s like your body could’t move. It’s almost like your eyes were deceiving you and you has to squint to make sure. To make sure it wasn't a dream. That you wouldn't wake up crying alone in that crappy bed back in your hideout. 

But he was there. He was in front of you just a few feet away. 

And all you both wanted to do was hold each other and never let go.

You would have ran to him. You would have jumped into his arms and cried a million gallons of tears while you buried your face in the crook of his neck in that moment. 

But someone didn’t let you.

You were about to do these exact things you wished, but then you heard someone running at you from behind and remembered where you were. You remembered Chishiya and you were not the only two people in the universe. 

Just before Nirgai tackled you from behind, you swung back around and hit him square in the face with the back of his gun. 

His whole body flung backwards and he fell to the ground. He held his now bleeding nose in his eyes and yelled out in pain. 

You looked down at Nirgai and saw nothing but a broken man. One that you thought you could save from his mental problems one day, but now you wouldn’t even help him if he came into he mental health ward at the hospital. You would rather give him shock therapy - which you do not condone in your field - and lose your license when you fried his brains to mush then actually help him. 

You step on his chest and push down hard to keep him in place. He breathes out the air you just pushed on to get out his lung, and opens his eyes to look up at you. You point his gun right at his head, but you don't pull the trigger. You just stare at him with a blank face. 

“What are you waiting for? Firecracker princess loose her ability to move?”

You smirked at his attempt to bate you. 

“I would shoot you Nirgai. I really would. Hell, I have all the excuses on why I should.”

You take the gun out of his face then bend down so your can look at him more closely. 

“But unlike you, I don’t need to kill people to get my revenge. I rather just leave you here knowing I know all your little secrets. I haven’t forgot about our little ‘chat’ earlier. Information like that will put your reputation right in the trash. You’ll lose all your power that you some how got above everyone else - so - I rather just leave you here, knowing I have all the power over you now.”

Then you straightened up and took your foot off his chest. You still kept the gun pointed at him as he stood up slowly after you. 

Surprisingly, Nirgai didn't look angry like everyone around thought. He looked terrified. He recovered when he realized he showed his true emotions, but didn’t say or do anything that would provoke you more.

You kept the gun pointed at him the whole time he walked out the door you both entered from. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him that you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, and dropped the gun on the ground. 

You’ve went through so much stress, both distress and eustress, in such a short amount of time. You were breathing irregular and had to put your hands on your knees to try and catch your breath. It wasn't until your heart stopped beating in your ears that you remembered who was right behind you.

You turned around and looked right at him. 

You and Chishiya didn’t waste a second longer on being apart. You ran to him and he stepped forward until you both collided together. You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly and he wrapped his arms around your waist just as tightly. 

You were shaking in his arms and crying loudly, but you didn't care and neither did he. He was almost crying himself, but he didn't let any tears fall.

Chishiya put his fingers in your hair and kissed the side of your head, this just made your cry harder. Chishiya closed his eyes and sniffed in your signature smell that he loved so much. The feeling of your hair through his fingers and you in his arms was unreal. You felt like you could just die right then and there, and be so damn happy.

Arisu whispered to Usagi who was standing right next to him, “Who's that?”

Usagi, without looking away from you and Chishiya, whispered back, “That’s Chishiya’s fiancé.”

Arisu’s eyes went wide, but you two weren’t even paying attention to the three bystanders.

You didn’t care what they thought or said about you too because in that moment, you only cared for each other. You only needed each other. Right back into the ways you both have always been together.

After about a minute has passed of you two just holding each other, you take your face out of his shoulder and stare at Chishiya with wet eyes. He wipes your tears away with both his thumbs and he - just can’t help himself. 

He pulls you in by the back of your head and kisses you. You squeeze your eyes shut and cuddle your arms together in-between the both of you. He keeps you wrapped up in his arms and your bodies press together. Keeping your lips just as close to each other. 

It wasn't planned or genital, but it was the best feeling. Finally being able to taste and touch each other again let off fireworks in your stomachs. 

You both could of stood there, kissing and holding each other, forever, but you forgot there were other people in the room. It wasn't until Kuina coughed that you pulled your lips apart.

You glanced at Kuina, but you didn't know her so you went back to leaning your head against Chishiya’s shoulder. He smiled down at you in his arms then looked to three individuals with a face that somewhat showed an apology.

Even though he really didn’t care if they just witnessed you two kissing like there was no tomorrow. He would have rather continued until next week, but he didn’t want you to get embarrassed.

Kuina was the one that broke the awkward silence. 

“Sooo-” She glided over to the two of you. “I’m Kuina. Nice to meet ya.”

You took your face out of Chishiya’s shoulder and rubbed one of your eyes from the access tears. You looked Kuina up and down and whispered her name to yourself. 

“Your Kuina? Nirgai told me about you.”

She rose an eyebrow at that information.

“Nirgai - the evil psychopath himself - told you about me?”

You could tell by her expression that she didn’t like Nirgai at all. Then again, everyone seems to be having the same negative expressions when you mentioned Nirgai’s name. 

“Yeah. Only briefly, but it was one of the times he was having a tantrum.”

Kuina laughed, and Usagi and Arisu smiled at your insult towards Niragi.

Chishiya looked back to you and couldn’t contain his lips from twitching up into a smile. He’s usually never easy to read, and never gives anyone a different expression. It was alway either a half-closed smile or boredom to everyone in Borderland. 

By looking at you now, all his emotions that he forgot existed were coming back. All because of you - he finally got his real smile back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chishiya kept you close to him while walking out of the arena. 

You were holding hands and walking behind the other three people in your little group. He wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon. He wasn't someone that like PDA either, but for you he always made an exception. 

You figured out everyones names and how they all met in one sitting inside the arena. Now you weren’t so clueless about who was who, and why they were with your fiancé. 

You could tell Chishiya wasn't allowing them to tell you everything though. He would cut them off halfway though their stories and explanations. You didn't think about it so deeply at the time, but now that you finally got a chance to rethink everything that happened in the arena, you can’t help yourself, but want to question what Niragi said to you back there.

“~you should ask your precious fiancé what’s he’s done these past few months. I would see if that ring of yours is refundable.”

As the memory of his words rang in your head, you unconsciously rubbed that exact ring with your thumb. You would never return the ring or break up with Chishiya for anything he’s done here. You both have had to do things you usually wouldn’t do in the real world to survive. But that didn’t stop you from overthinking what Nirgai said.

“Oh, no. You have your overthinking face on.”

You look to Chishiya and smile at him. He knew you so well that with one glance to your face he could tell something was making your brain go haywire. He smiled with you, and it was a smile with teeth. Your heart swooned over the sight. Seeing him smile made you just not care anymore.

“It doesn’t even matter. Don’t worry about it.”

But he wasn't going to let it go. He just got you back and he wasn't going to let anything ruin this moment, or let your mind ruin it either.

“No, no. Now you have to tell me.”

You sighed to yourself and looked back in front of you. The other three were far enough in front of you so they couldn’t hear you, so you stopped in the middle of the streets of Tokyo and turned to face Chishiya. 

“It’s something that Niragi said that’s been bothering me.”

Chishiya’s expression changed in an instant. He doesn’t even want to imagine anything Niragi’s said or tired to do to you. Just seeing him get close to back in the arena made him want to punch a wall.

Chishiya isn’t a violent or very angry person, but he can’t stop his eye from twitching from the thought of him doing something to you.

“What he say?” Chishiya gritted though his teeth.

“He said-” You paused for a second when you saw Chishiya expression looked like he was about to blow up from all his pent up rage. You love Chishiya with everything you got, but you know especially that holding all his aggression inside isn't healthy. “He said, that I should ask you about what you’ve done these past few months. He basically made it out to seem like you were just as bad as him.”

Chishiya stayed quiet for a second. 

He, personally, wouldn’t say he was as bad as Nirgai, but he has done some messed up things these past few months. He wouldn’t change a damn thing either. He didn’t know until today that you were here in Borderland. Before, when he didn’t have you with him, he did anything and everything he could do without getting himself killed. 

That included, do anything to anyone to get back to you.  

Two of those people he wronged are in your little group as we speak. He glances over to where Arisu and Usagi are. They just entered the motel that they all decided earlier would be good for them to camp out at. 

Chishiya was having a war in his mind between whether or not he should tell you about everything he’s done. He's never kept a single secret from you before, and he doesn't want to start now, but he’s worried about how you will react. 

He breaths in to ready himself to tell you everything, but you stop him.

“I don't care.”

He blinks at you.

“I don't care because none of it matters. As long as you weren’t cheating on me I couldn't care one bit. You wanna know why?”

You leaned in close to Chishiya and having you so close to his face made his mouth go dry. Only you could give him these affects even after 6 years.

“Why?”

It was just a whisper, but you heard him.

“Because you did it all to get back to me. You did the exact same thing as me these past few months. Did whatever and killed whoever to survive long enough to see each other again. I’m not going to judge you for what you’ve done because it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters now is that - is that you still love me.”

You bit your lip after you stopped your little speech. You broke off at the end because it was a small worry for you. In the very, very back of your mind you had this worry. You didn’t even let yourself have this worry until now, but since you had the chance to say it to him, you did.

Chishiya squinted his eyes at you. Was that really a worry of yours? That he didn’t love you anymore?

Chishiya chuckled and shook his head at you.

“Y/n, I think it’s nearly impossible for me to not love you. I have none stop thought about you since I got here. I have literally done all in my power to get all the number cards, and now the face cards, just for the possibility of seeing you again.”

He grabbed your face, and you stared at him unblinking. You didn’t want to miss whatever he said next.

“I love Y/n - and I can't wait for you to finally take my last name.” 

You swear your heart almost leapt out of your chest like a cartoon. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore. You jumped onto him and captured your lips with his. He chuckled into your mouth from your reaction to his sweet words. 

This is what you needed.

This is what he needed.

And you both never wanted to be apart from each other again.

Everything up to this moment, was completely worth all the hassle of getting yourselves here. 

Even as you pulled apart and walked into the motel, both your minds were filled with each other. Each step you took was one that you took together. From that day forward, you promised to never be without each other again.

Any game or person that got in your way was surely a goner. And whoever tried to pull you both apart just made themselves the worst enemies they could ever make.

Everyday before Borderlands you were together, and now in Borderland you will do the same. You had to do your job after all...

Had to make Shuntarō Chishiya smile with teeth. 

Always for you, and forever with you.

-

-

-

Ending Notes: I’m not crying you are! I can’t believe I just finished the climax of this story! I still have one more chapter to post, but that’s legit going to be all smut. If you don’t like smut, don’t read it. So basically... a smut Epilogue.

Thank you to everyones that’s enjoyed this story of mine and has been commenting such nice things! When you get a chance go check out my Alice in Borderland Master List. I have one shots and head-canons for our darling Chishiya, as well as Niagi and Last Boss too!  

I also recommend checking out @ithehellisbucky especially their post Sour Candy. That one shot inspired me to write this story in the first place so make sure to check out their works too!

For anyone thats been asking about going onto my tag list, the best way you can do that is by messaging me separately because I for some reason am not getting notifications for comments even though I have those notification on. Also if you only want to be tagged for stories about a specific AIB boy or every post that goes on my Master List, let me know that too.

I hope you all enjoyed reading my story and will stick around for the next one. I have a lot of ideas in this brain of mine especially for my beloved AIB boys. 

Until next time, see you around my Curious Cats! ఌ

(Epilogue)

#alice in borderland #Chishiya #Chishiya x Reader #chishiya shuntaro #niragi suguru #happy ending #games #smile with teeth end #smile with teeth

[sunflowervolvimp3]

42 Hours

Content: an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time

Warnings: language, mentions of nsfw content

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 20k 

A/N: I actually cannot believe that this is finally being posted over almost a month of working on it!! originally, I was going to make this one long stand alone fic, but once I hit 35k with no end in sight, I decided to split it into two parts so that it would be easier to read for you guys.  I’m hoping to have part 2 posted within a week, so keep an eye out for it!! this fic was partially inspired by this post by @avhrodite​ (thank you miss bailey!!) and can I just say that I had so much fun writing it!! I love road trips!! it makes me so sad that I had to split this fic because there are so many fun music scenes in the next part but those will all come in due time!! I would also like to give a big thank you to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for putting up with me bouncing ideas off of them and for proof reading for me!! and miss andrea again for editing this stunning header pic!! also everyone I tagged is a wonderful writer and if you’re looking for more to read after reading this then I HIGHLY suggest taking a look through their masterlists. and as always, if you like this fic, please like and reblog it!! and shoot me a message!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by all content creators <3

{masterlist}

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

When she was a little girl, Y/N’s grandmother had told her about Murphy’s Law.  Grandma Sarah’s favourite activity was staring at her granddaughter over the kitchen counter, a knife in one hand and half an onion that she’d been cutting in the other, spouting various wisdoms at the young girl, who would often be sitting and peeling vegetables for her.  The old lady had hoped that, after being lectured enough times on life’s difficulties, Y/N might be able to avoid making the same mistakes that she had made in her own time.  She always had a list of advice that she’d cycle through, as if she were a record on a loop.

“Always look both ways before crossing the street.  Your great uncle Albert didn’t, and he never regained full function of his left hand.”

“Beauty fades, but there’s no shelf life on your mind.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, so stop staring at it, and focus on taking care of your own lawn.”

All of the advice was, by any accounts, useful for anyone to know, especially a young girl.  Of course, sometimes the advice would get a little scrambled after Grandma Sarah had had a few glasses of wine, but even her tipsy thoughts were useful to Y/N in her later years.  To this day, Y/N still sets a glass of water on her nightstand before going out to a bar, and her hungover self is always grateful the next morning.  And Y/N had yet to find anything that smelled as sweet as a vanilla dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists when she runs out of perfume.  However, perhaps the most important piece of advice Grandma Sarah ever gave her came one afternoon when Y/N was eleven years old, and her older cousin Grace was due to get married the next week.

Grandma Sarah had cracked egg after egg into her mixing bowl, always without getting any unwanted pieces of shell in the egg whites, and gave her granddaughter a long look across the kitchen counter.

“When you get married, Y/N,” She had said, voice firm. “Remember Murphy’s Law.  Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.  When Murphy’s Law comes into play, there’s nothing you can do except roll with the punches.”

Eleven year old Y/N had nodded her head seriously, as she always did when her grandmother told her seemingly important things.  The advice, despite its usefulness, however, didn’t stick around in her head, and Murphy’s Law didn’t cross Y/N’s mind for fourteen years.

It takes fourteen years for Y/N, who is standing in front of a flight check-in at LAX, two large suitcases next to her, one of which contains two gold wedding bands, passport in hand, and a distressed look on her face, to remember the law her grandmother had once told her about.

“When you get married, Y/N…anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.”

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Y/N pushes the echoing words of her grandmother out of her head. “I’m sorry, just—” She gives a pained smile to the lady working the check in. “Can you explain that to me again, please?”

The lady also takes a deep breath, the smile on her ruby tinted lips just as pained as Y/N’s. “There’s a storm system moving through Utah and Colorado.  These systems have the potential to become tornadoes, and because of that, the conditions for flying are too dangerous right now, so all flights through that area are grounded until further notice.”

“So my flight is cancelled?” Y/N holds up the ticket in her hand that’s stamped with LAX – JFK. “This flight, this flight to New York, which is nowhere near Utah—that’s cancelled?”

The check-in lady, whose name tag reads Brynn, gives another tight smile. “Yes, ma’am.  It’s cancelled.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry, Brynn, but that doesn’t work for me.” Y/N shakes her head fiercely as the manic rush of emotions through her begins to set in.  The denial, she finds, keeps the oncoming panic at bay, and so she decides to focus on that to ground herself. “My best friend is getting married in the Catskills in one week.” Y/N holds up one finger, as if her words are hard for Brynn to understand. “That’s one week from today.  I’m the maid of honour.  I have to be there to help organize, keep her calm, and make sure she actually makes it down the aisle, because—between you and me—she’s got some commitment issues—” The more Y/N speaks, the more her panic begins to spill out in her words, like a dam with a leak that’s about to burst. “And she forgot the goddamn wedding rings, so I have those too, and I just—I really need to get to New York, like, now. Right now.”

Y/N finally pauses to take a sharp breath, and Brynn, who had been waiting for her to finish, speaks again, her voice flatter than before.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am, but as I said, all flights are grounded right now.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, Y/N takes another deep breath.  Roll with the punches, her grandmother had told her.  What else is there to do? “Okay.” Y/N is careful to keep her voice in check when she speaks again. “Alright.  Do you know when they’ll be ungrounded?”

“As I’ve said,” Brynn’s smile is more of a grimace now, and Y/N knows that she’s treading on thin ice. “All flights are grounded until further notice.  We’re not sure when we’ll be able to open them again.  It could be a day, or it could be five.  If you’d like, I can put you down on a list to be called when flights are available again, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”

“Let’s do that, then.” Y/N relents in a tired voice, already making plans to pick up a coffee on her way back to her apartment.  In the back of her mind, she begins to wonder if she has any Baileys Irish cream liqueur left in her kitchen cabinet—and if 8:30 A.M. is too early to be drinking Baileys with her coffee.

…

It takes Y/N two cups of coffee with Baileys (it had been 10 A.M. by the time she arrived home, thanks to L.A. traffic, and she had decided that 10 A.M. was a fine time to drink when one’s flight gets cancelled indefinitely) to work up the courage to call Jo and tell her that she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to make it to the wedding.

Josephine Waters, or Jo to anyone who doesn’t want to get punched in the arm, has been Y/N’s best friend since the girls were five years old.  They became fast friends on the first day of kindergarten, as Jo liked how Y/N could already colour inside the lines, and Y/N liked how Jo tackled a boy who tugged on Y/N’s pigtails.  From the very beginning, the two were a perfect match for each other; where Y/N was reserved, Jo was wild.  Where Jo was disorganized, Y/N was focused.  Each girl balanced the other in the most natural way, and it’s this fact that Y/N and Jo credit for the two of them staying friends for twenty years. As they grew up together, they grew together, taking the very best traits from the other and using it to help themselves develop.  Y/N had been the first person that Jo came out to, confessing to her best friend during an eighth grade sleepover in a quiet and nervous voice.  To Jo’s pleasure, Y/N had been completely supportive, and returned the favour from the first day of kindergarten by punching a boy in the nose for calling Jo a homophobic slur.  Jo helped Y/N through her parent’s divorce.  Y/N helped Jo manage her ADHD.  Jo talked Y/N through discovering her bisexuality in university. Y/N answered every 3 A.M. phone call to comfort Jo after a panic attack.  In every sense of the word, the two girls had been there for each other.

And now Y/N is going to miss Jo’s wedding.

The harsh realization digs a pit in her stomach as she opens her phone and clicks on Jo’s name.  It’s noon in L.A., which means it’s 3 P.M. in New York time, and Y/N knows Jo will answer.  She always does.

Sure enough, after three short rings, Jo’s voice chirps through the phone. “Hey, Y/N!  Has your flight landed already?”

“No, there’s—there’s been an issue.” Y/N downs another gulp of her coffee, wishing she had added more Baileys when she had the chance, and clears her throat before continuing. “There’s, um, a storm in Utah, and apparently it’s bad, and so all flights from L.A. to New York are grounded until further notice.”

Jo makes a scoffing noise, and Y/N can practically picture the indignant look on her face that she’s seen so many times before. “That’s ridiculous.  Did you tell them that New York is nowhere near Utah?”

“Uh huh.”

“What about that my wedding is in one week?”

“I told them that, too. Brynn didn’t seem to care.”

“Bitch.” Jo mutters under her breath. “Okay, just wait a second, Laure just walked through the door, so I’m putting you on speakerphone—”

Y/N hears rustling on the speaker, as well as muttering in the background as Jo speaks to her fiancée, and then Jo’s voice is back, sounding slightly more distant.

“Okay, so I told Laure what happened—”

“That’s awful, Y/N.” Laure’s voice is laced with stress, and Y/N can only imagine how much anxiety this information is adding to her already full plate. “They won’t tell you when flights will be leaving again?”

“Nope.” Y/N pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her free arm around them, leaning her head against the back of her couch.

“Okay, well, planes aren’t the only way to get here.” Laure says, always the more rational out of the two. “Maybe a car—?”

“Y/N doesn’t have one.” Jo chimes in, a hint of teasing in her voice, despite the serious problem that’s in discussion. “She’s scared of driving—”

Y/N sits up, an indignant look on her face. “I’m not scared of driving!” She says hotly, setting her empty coffee mug on the table with a thud. “I just hate L.A. traffic, and honestly, there’s no point!  I can walk to work, and Uber anywhere else I need to go!  A car would be completely useless to me!”

“Except now, when you’re about to miss your best friend’s wedding.” Jo points out. “What about renting one?”

Y/N sighs, her moment of indignation already fizzled out. “I tried that already.  There’s nothing available for a cross country trip.”

“And the drive is so long.” Laure murmurs, and Y/N knows it’s more for Jo’s benefit than hers. “It’s over forty hours.  She can’t do that by herself; it’s not safe.”

“But—”

“Look, Jo, don’t worry about this, alright?” Y/N cuts across her best friend’s anxious voice, assuming her usual role of protector. “I’ll figure this out.  I promise you; I will make it to your wedding on time, looking pretty in my dress, and with your wedding bands.  I promise.”

“We’ll keep thinking about it and see what we can come up with.” Laure promises through the phone, her voice sounding further and further away. “This is just—it’s a bump in the road, but it’s fine.  We can work around this.  We’ll find a way.”

…

The way that Laure finds for Y/N pounds on her door at 7:30 A.M. the next morning.

Y/N, like any exhausted and stressed out adult who has already begun her ten days of vacation time that she booked off for the wedding, is fast asleep in her bed when she hears the knocking.  The loud noise pulls her out from her dreams abruptly, and she cracks one eye open, squinting through the sunlight that’s lighting up her room.  When the knock echoes through her apartment again, she pulls herself from her sheets with a groan, grabbing her robe from the back of her door and tying it around herself as she makes her way to the front hallway to yell at whoever has the audacity to wake her up.

When she opens the door, Harry Styles is peering down at her with an irritated look on his face.

“Took you long enough, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes as he speaks, finally stepping back from the door that he had been pounding on a moment ago. “Are you ready to go?”

Y/N rubs her eyes, suppressing a yawn as she does so. “Styles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.  What are you doing here?” She demands.  She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, she thinks, let alone the mental capacity to listen to anything he has to say.

Harry crosses his arms across his chest, and it’s then that Y/N notices the duffel bag strewn over his shoulder. “It’s a forty-two hour drive from L.A. to the Catskills.” Harry’s eyes scan over Y/N’s appearance, the very corner of his strawberry pink lips twitching, and Y/N tightens her robe around herself with a glare.

“A drive?” Y/N asks, uncertainty growing in her voice as she crosses her arm over her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Your flight was cancelled, right?” Harry’s voice grows more impatient as Y/N’s half asleep brain struggles to piece together what’s happening. “So was mine, so I decided to drive to the wedding, and then Laure called me last night, begging me to take you with me.” He shrugs a bit, fixing his sunglasses on top of his head as his jade eyes scan over her appearance one more time. “Not my first choice of road trip partner, but I don’t think the best man can say no to bringing the maid of honour.  And splitting the cost of gas will be nice.”

“Okay, wait, I…” Y/N’s finally coming out of her fog of exhaustion, and the newfound clarity of her mind is causing a newfound pit to develop in her stomach. “Laure and Jo didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Well, I expect they’re a bit busy, given that they’re getting married in a week.” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder with a sharp sigh. “Look, are you ready to go or not?  It’s over a five day drive, so we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“I—yeah—” Y/N nods before taking a hesitant step back from the doorway, positioning herself to the side so that Harry can get by her. “I just have to get dressed and grab a couple last minute things, so…come in, I guess.”

Harry flashes an insincere smile to Y/N as he steps into her apartment, his eyes darting around at the furniture and home decor.  Y/N watches as his gaze lingers on her library of books, her yellow bicycle leaning against the wall, and every other little touch of herself that she likes her home to have, and she can see the judgement that’s clearly apparent in his eyes.

“You can sit, if you want.” She mutters, turning on her heel to go back to her bedroom. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

The first thing Y/N does when she shuts her bedroom door behind herself is assess the situation in the analytical way that usually calms her.  Alright.  So a road trip across the country isn’t exactly ideal, and a road trip across the country with Harry Styles is even less ideal.  But, at the present moment, being stuck in a car with Harry seems to be the only sure way that she’ll be able to make it to Jo’s wedding on time. And for Jo, Y/N would put up with anything.  Even Harry.

As she rummages through her drawers for some leggings and a tank top, Y/N wonders what she could have possibly done to bring this much bad karma into her life.  While she gets dressed, her mind flickers back to Murphy’s Law, how everything that can go wrong will go wrong, in the worst possible way, and then she thinks about being in a confined space with Harry for five days, and—yeah.  That seems to be the worst possible thing she can think of.

Y/N remembers the first moment she’d met Harry seven years ago, and the unfortunate circumstances under which that meeting had happened.  Jo and Laure had just barely met back then, and Jo had begged Y/N to come out on a double date with her and “this really hot girl from my women studies class who I’m, like, 83% sure swings my way.”

Y/N had groaned at that comment, flopping back on her bed in the tiny dorm that she and Jo shared. “No! I have an essay due in three days that I haven’t even started!”

Jo rolled her eyes as she flopped down on Y/N’s bed as well, ignoring her own half-made bunk that was across the small room, favouring her best friend’s bed like she always did. “We both know you’re not starting that essay until the day before it’s due, and that it’s just an excuse because you don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want to go.” Y/N had agreed with a sharp and fervent nod.  She shut her laptop and pushed it to the side of her bed, knowing from experience that she wasn’t going to be able to focus and argue at the same time. “Why would I want to hang out with a complete stranger while you make googly eyes at a girl from your class?”

“Okay, first, I don’t make googly eyes.” Jo made a face at that comment, nudging Y/N’s calf with her own foot. “And second, he’s her best friend from high school, and he’s coming to visit all the way from London!”

“So?  He’s still a stranger!” Y/N pointed out, her eyes drifting to the sticky note covered novel beside her.  She picks it up and begins to flip through the marked pages as she speaks. “Knowing where he’s from doesn’t change that!”

“It should, because he’s only going to be here for a week, and Laure almost cancelled the date because she doesn’t want to miss spending time with him—” Jo grabbed one of Y/N’s pillows and tossed it at her arm, knocking the book from her hands. “Focus! So I said that he could come, but she said that she didn’t want him to be left out, so I said that I happen to have an incredibly beautiful and witty best friend who would be able to entertain Harry while we all hang out together.”

Y/N inhaled deeply as she gave Jo a withering look. “Did you already tell her I’m going?”

Jo, in return, gave Y/N her most dazzling smile. “Yes.  We’re meeting them for dinner at 7.”

Y/N shakes herself from her memories as she runs to her bathroom to toss her toiletries back into the bag she’d taken them out of the day before, working as quickly as she can. It does her no good to think of Harry in the past, she thinks, because the present Harry is currently sitting in her living room, probably snooping through her stuff, and the longer she takes to get ready to go, the more he’ll go through.  Not that there’s anything incriminating in her apartment, really—or at least, nothing incriminating in her living room.  When Y/N makes it back to her bedroom, however, to quickly zip up her suitcase, she does make sure she grabs her favourite vibrator from the box under her bed, tucking it between her half-folded underwear.  If she’s going to be gone for a week, she’ll need something to help her relax.

Within a few more minutes, Y/N is repacked and ready to go.  Her hunter green bridesmaid dress is carefully arranged on the very top of her clothes in her suitcase, all of her makeup and toiletries are packed inside, and Jo and Laure’s wedding rings are secured in little velvet boxes stashed between her socks.  As far as physical preparedness goes, Y/N is ready to go on a coast to coast road trip. As far as mental preparedness goes, however…that’s the thing that Y/N’s not quite sure about.

…

“What are you doing?”

Y/N glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, her hand still half stretched out to the radio dials in his car.  Although Harry’s green eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and his face is turned towards the long road in front of them, he still somehow manages to catch her motions, and it irritates her to no end.

“I’m changing the radio station?” Y/N answers after a moment, giving him a puzzled look. “I don’t know why you listen to this weird oldies station, but—”

“First of all—” Harry’s hands turn the steering wheel slightly to guide his car over the curve of the road, his jaw twitching as a smirk works its way onto his pink lips. “This isn’t a radio station, it’s my Spotify playlist.  I put a Bluetooth connection in Stevie a year ago. Secondly—”

“Stevie?” Y/N repeats incredulously, twisting her whole body as best she can to look at Harry straight on. “You named your car?  You’re one of those guys?”

Harry finally gives Y/N a flicker of a glance, the glare obvious in his eyes even behind his dark sunglasses.  He turns his attention back to the road before replying. “Secondly—” He continues from before, ignoring her comment as his right hand readjusts the gear shift. “Driver picks the music.”

Y/N makes a face, the corners of her lips pulling down into a grimace as she settles back into the passenger seat with her arms crossed. “So we’re just going to listen to ‘Tiny Dancer’ for the entire drive, are we?”

“Not the entire drive, no.” Harry flicks on his turn signal with a ringed hand before shoulder checking to change lanes.  Y/N glances at him, her eyes training on the strained muscles in his neck as Harry continues. “We’ll listen to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ too.”

“Great.” Y/N exhales slowly and presses her head back into the seat’s headrest, closing her eyes as Elton John’s voice continues to float through the speakers. “Really looking forward to it.”

“You know, maybe you should try to sleep.” Harry says, his voice prickled with irritation as Elton John bleeds into The Zombies. “I think you’ll be in a better mood after you take a nap.”

Y/N readjusts her crossed arms as she mutters a short reply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Still, she shuts her eyes again, twisting her body towards the window in an attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep.  Being in the car with Harry is already giving her a throbbing migraine, and they’ve only been on the road for less than two hours.  Sleeping through most of the trip will probably be the only way she’ll be able to survive it.

Despite that realization, however, her phone vibrates in her lap three minutes later, pulling her away from her thoughts.  Y/N glances down at the now lit screen, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she registers the name on the message.  Opening her phone quickly, she reads over the reply as a guilty feeling begins to build in her stomach.

BRANT: Hey, what are you doing tonight?  Want to grab some dinner?

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Y/N’s head snaps back up, her eyes jerking in Harry’s direction.  Like before, he’s watching her from the corner of his eye, catching every one of her movements, and the constant surveillance is annoying to no end.

Harry, it seems, is either oblivious to her annoyance, or is choosing to ignore it. “I asked what’s wrong. You have a weird look on your face.” Harry’s blunt words are accompanied by the sound of him tapping his ring covered fingers against the gear shift. “Everything alright?  Is it Laure and Jo?”

“No, it’s just—” Y/N glances down at her phone again, fingers poised over her keyboard as she crafts a reply in her head. “It’s no one.”

Harry snorts once, a short and harsh sound that grates against Y/N’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“It’s no one to you.” Y/N updates her retort, turning her full attention back to her phone. “My personal life is none of your business.”

Y/N: I’m sorry, I can’t!! Caught a last minute ride to New York with somebody.  Maybe once I’m back?

“Personal life, huh?” Harry clicks his tongue once, and the childish noise is even more irritating than his snort. “What, you can’t talk to me about whoever you’re shagging?”

The blunt remark hits Y/N like a shot to the chest, and she sputters for a moment as she struggles to form a response. “I—we’re not—” Taking a moment to gather herself and clear her throat quickly, Y/N avoids Harry’s gaze as her cheeks begin to burn. “We’re not like that. We’ve just…had a few dates, that’s all. There’s nothing…official.”

“You don’t need to be official to have a shag, now, do you?” Harry lifts his hand from the gear shift to fix his sunglasses, settling it back down on his jean covered thigh once he’s done. “If you don’t want to date the bloke—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/N cuts over him, pulling herself from her embarrassment enough to give him a cold glare. “He’s very nice—”

“Boring, you mean—”

“And I—this is none of your business!” Feeling the flush of embarrassment rise back to her cheeks, Y/N once again turns her attention to her passenger seat window, avoiding Harry’s pressing gaze. “I’m done talking about this.”

Harry gives an indifferent shrug. “Whatever.” He says casually, tapping his finger against his thigh as his shoulders once again lift slightly beneath his fitted black t-shirt. “I just feel bad for the guy, that’s all.”

The comment is bait. And the thing is, Y/N knows it’s bait.  She knows that the only reason Harry is saying it is to get under her skin and keep her talking about Brant, further embarrassing herself in the process. She’s been around Harry enough to know how he works, and she knows that the only reason he would say that is to bait her.  She knows she shouldn’t take it.  And yet—

“There’s no reason to feel bad for him.” Y/N scoffs as she fidgets with the position of her seatbelt, trying to stop the strap from cutting into her chest. “We’ve been talking for a month, and there’s nothing official happening.  Just because you can’t go that long without trying to stick your dick in someone—”

“You have no idea what I can do, Y/N.  Don’t pretend that you do.” Harry’s tone of voice is just as scoffing as hers, his eyes still set on the road in front of them intently as he gives his sharp response. Y/N watches as he shifts the gears of the car and speeds up, just enough to make the engine roar, but not enough to lose control of the car.  Part of Y/N wistfully wishes that he would just slip up and crash the car, just so she wouldn’t have to continue this conversation.

“All I meant,” Harry continues, unaware of the dark daydreams running through Y/N’s head. “Is that I feel bad that you’re clearly not interested in him, which is proven by the fact that you haven’t wanted him in your bed.”

Irritation flares through Y/N’s body again, stronger than the embarrassment of discussing her sex life (or lack thereof) with Harry, and she half considers just grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it into a passing cliff so she can finish them off herself. “For Christ’s sake, Harry, sex isn’t the only way to—”

“I don’t mean actually having it, that’s not a given.” Harry rolls his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he slows down for a curve in the road, his practiced hands once again changing gears with ease. “You don’t have to fuck him.  But you should want to, especially if you’ve had a month of dates, and you clearly don’t want to.”

Y/N doesn’t hide the incredulous stare of disbelief on her face as she turns to look at him. Harry’s face, though turned towards the road still, has a look of amusement mixed with contemplation on it, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control not to smack the expression off of him. Although there’s the ghost of a smirk on his strawberry coloured lips, his brow is furrowed behind his sunglasses, as if he’s thinking hard about the conversation between them.  Normally, Y/N would be amazed that Harry is thinking hard about anything.  However, given that their conversation is apparently turning into whether or not she wants to have sex with someone, Y/N’s not too thrilled about his sudden investment and serious contemplation of the topic.

Shaking her head decidedly, Y/N finally spits out a finishing phrase. “You don’t know what I want.” She says decidedly, reaching into the backseat to grab the sweater she stashed back there.  She clumsily pulls it over her body without taking off her seatbelt.  Harry keeps the AC cranked as high as he can, and she knows that he’ll kill her if she tries to change it. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think.” Harry counters, the tip of his tongue running along his bottom lip. “And I’m pretty good at reading body language.  You don’t really want him.  He—what’s his name?”

Despite her better judgement, Y/N answers in a flat voice. “Brant.”

The corners of Harry’s cherry lip twitches. “Brant.  Yeah. It’s clear you don’t really want him, and you’re wasting your time.  You’re wasting his time, too.  Poor Brant.”

“Poor—you’re such an ass, you know that?” Y/N’s irritation bubbles over as she gives Harry a nasty look, her hand squeezing her thigh hard in an attempt to ground herself in their conversation. “You can try to pretend otherwise, but you don’t know anything about me, or him, so—”

“You think I’ve been friends with Laure and Jo this long and haven’t learned anything about you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, risking a glance at her as he presses a heavier foot onto the gas. “I told you, I know more than you think, and that includes your type.”

An incredulous scoff leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she shakes her head in obvious disbelief before responding. “My type.  Right. What is my type, then?  What’s Brant like, exactly, since you seem to know everything?”

Harry goes quiet then, his brow furrowing again as he returns his full attention to the road.  With his incessant chatter gone, the only sounds in the car being “Maps” playing quietly in the background and Harry’s ringed index and forefinger tap on the steering wheel.  Y/N breathes out a long sigh of satisfaction as she relaxes back in her seat, her attention turned back to the blurred landscapes speeding by her window.  Finally, she’s managed to get Harry to stop with his ridiculous assumptions—

“You like someone that’s stable and secure, so he probably works in some corporation, or an office job. Majored in business, I’d think, but has a minor in something like mathematics.” The side profile of Harry’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought. “He wants to work his way up in the company, but never wants to actually start anything on his own.  He likes the stability of a blueprint. You’re obsessed with punctuality, so he’s probably always on time to pick you up for dates—and he has to pick you up, because you don’t drive—and your dates are never really dates. Dinners, or movies, or something like that, but they never really have that spark.” Harry’s shoulder lift slightly as he continues to make his conclusions. “Which, honestly, is probably a big reason in why you don’t want to fuck him, because as much as you like stability and safety, you also like the idea of a grand gesture, or something like that.  And you probably split the bill a lot at dinner, right?  Because it just seems fair, but really it’s because you know it’s not a real date.  But it passes the time, and he’s nice, so it’s fine.  But it’s only fine.” Harry licks his lips once more as he collects his next thoughts, his teeth catching his bottom lip just barely as his tongue retreats back into his mouth. “And he’s probably already talking about you coming to meet his family for some holiday.  Not in a romantic way, but just because he likes to plan everything in advance to every minute detail.  Just like you.”

Halfway through Harry’s speech, a flush had begun to creep up Y/N’s neck, continuing to warm her jaw and ears before settling on the apples of her cheeks.  She keeps her eyes trained on her window and her mouth pressed into a tight line, refusing to look at Harry and give him any hint of just how shocked she is that he’s guessed so much.

Harry, however, doesn’t plan on letting her get away from his inquisition. “Well?” He impatiently prompts after a moment, and even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel him looking at her, his emerald irises burning into the back of her head. “Am I right?”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat quickly, but her voice is still strained and tight when she replies. “No.”

Harry hums low in his throat, and his voice is laced with curiosity with he replies. “Really?” The irritating tap of his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music continues. “What did I get wrong?”

“He—” Y/N hates the way her skin is burning from his interrogation, how her voice shrinks smaller and smaller the more she speaks.  If Harry knows her so well, then he knows how much she loves being in control, and in this situation, with Harry managing to pull every one of her most secret inner thoughts and feelings out of her without trouble, she feels anything but in control. “He has a minor in accounting, not mathematics.”

The laugh that leaves Harry’s mouth is loud and bombastic, and his whole body curves over the steering wheel as the sound rolls out of him, his eyes just barely managing to stay on the road while his sunglasses slide down his nose. “Right.” Harry says between belly laughs, his voice stretched out in amusement. “But everything else was spot on?”

Y/N keeps her stiff body turned towards the window, refusing to engage in the conversation any further. That doesn’t stop Harry, however, who fixes his sunglasses as chuckles continue to roll out of him.

“I take it back. Maybe he’s the one wasting your time.” His hand runs through his hair lazily, fixing the curled strands that had fallen into his eyes as he laughed. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to sleep with your bore of a boyfriend—”

“He’s stable!” Y/N breaks her silence to protest Harry’s words, her voice heated. “And he’s not my boyfriend.  We’ve been seeing each other, but we’re not—it’s not exclusive, or—nothing serious—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.  It’s fine.” Harry waves off her arguments with a flick of his tattooed hand. “Besides, like you said, it’s none of my business, right?”

Y/N can practically picture what Harry looks like in this moment.  His chestnut curls are probably a mess from fidgeting with them, and his cheeks are most likely rosy beneath his stubble from the peels of laughter that left his equally red lips a moment ago.  Most infuriatingly of all, his dimples are probably present, making little indentations in his cheeks to show how entertaining he’s found embarrassing her. Bastard, she thinks, clenching her fists so hard that her nails dig into her palms, pressing them into her sides beneath her makeshift blanket.

She refuses to let herself confirm if her suspicions about Harry’s appearance are correct, and instead keeps her gaze on the blurred trees whipping by outside her window. “Right.” She mutters, leaning her head against the headrest as she closes her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

…

As soon as the paint-peeled door to the motel room swings open, Y/N knows that she’s not going to be sleeping soundly tonight.

She’s not sure what her first hint should have been.  Perhaps it was the half-flickering blue and red light of the Motel 6 sign that should have tipped her off, or the front-desk attendant who looked as though he was hiding a few secrets himself.  When Y/N and Harry had first approached the front desk of the tiny, vaguely mildew-smelling lobby, their clothes rumpled from the drive and their attitudes just as bothered, the employee in the Motel 6 uniform had barely raised an eye at them, not bothering to look up from his computer until Y/N and Harry were directly in front of him.

“Hi.” Harry had said, his voice taking on a cautious but polite tone that, Y/N remembers thinking, she would have appreciated hearing throughout their eight hour drive that day. “We’d like two rooms, please—”

“Here.” The attendant’s gum snapped in his mouth as he reached behind himself and grabbed an old key with a flimsy blue plastic tag from a wall of empty pegs. “Queen sized bed, the first door on the left.  It’ll do you two nicely.”

“Um, no.” Harry cleared his throat loudly as he gave a slight shake of his head. “We need two rooms.”

Finally, the attendant looked towards them, his eyes scanning Harry before Y/N.  The latter had self consciously pulled her sweater around her, as there was something in the attendant’s eyes that had bothered her. “Don’t have two rooms.  I got one room left.  Everything else is booked.”

Harry had glanced at Y/N then, and she knew that his thoughts mirrored hers: there was no way that they’d share a queen bed together.  No way in hell.  They’d barely survived eight hours in the same cramped car without one of them driving them off a cliff.  If Y/N had to share a bed with Harry, even for just one night, she’d probably end up smothering him in his sleep before the first snore left his obnoxious mouth.

“That’s really not an option.” Y/N had stepped forward then, crossing her arms around herself as the attendant’s eyes canvassed her again. “Isn’t there something—”

“Look, lady, I’m telling you what’s available.” The attendant’s eyes continued to flicker between her face and her chest, making Y/N’s skin crawl more and more with every word that fell from his gum-filled mouth. “The room might have a pull out chair—some do, but I couldn’t tell you which.  Now do you want to share the room with him or not?  If you don’t want to share, then I could try to find something else for just you—”

Before Y/N had the opportunity to respond to the lewd suggestion, Harry was already stepping forward, his body angling protectively in front of her own.  She watched from behind as his broad shoulders squared beneath his black t-shirt, his shoulder blades flexing as he straightened up to his full height.  When Harry answered, his voice was just as firm as it was dark, lacking its previous polite tone.

“We’ll take the room.” He had said coldly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet before tossing a few bills on the front desk. “Thanks for the help.”

Yes, Y/N thinks, all of that should have been a sign for the state of the motel room that they now find themselves standing inside.

The same mildew smell from the lobby surrounds them, permeating through every inch of air that Y/N breathes in. Dust seems to coat every surface as well, with thick layers of it covering the decades old TV and stand, the small coffee table, and the ledge of the window to her right.  To her relief, there is a small arm chair in the corner, which must be the pull out that the attendant had mentioned.  However, her relief is short lived when she sees the ratty beige comforter on the bed, and wonders if maybe sleeping in Harry’s car, which she had sworn to him that she didn’t want to do, might have been the better choice.

Harry shuts the door behind them with a firm thud, turning the deadbolt lock before attaching the chain from the door to the door frame. “Let’s keep that locked, yeah?” He mutters, walking to the window and making sure the beige curtains—everything in the room is a sea of beige, like some sort of khaki coloured nightmare—are pulled closed tightly. “I don’t trust that front-desk prick not to sneak in here.”

Y/N nods, fixing the strap of her duffel bag with her overnight clothes on her shoulder.  She’s not quite sure where to set it down, as everything around them seems to have been sitting stagnant and uncleaned for a while. “Yeah. Thanks, by the way.  For that.”

Harry acknowledges her thanks with a small grunt, barely lifting his head to look at her. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Despite her gratitude for his actions, Y/N can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his gruff response. “Jesus, can you not just say you’re welcome?”

Harry chooses to ignore her comment, and instead sets his bag down on the arm chair, unzipping it roughly. “You can take the bed.” He says simply, tossing his sunglasses into his bag before pulling out a small bag filled with what Y/N assumes are toiletries. “I’ll take the pullout.”

“Fine.” Y/N reluctantly sets her own bag down on the creaking bed, pulling back the covers to check for anything unsightly.  To her relief, the interior of the bed looks cleaner than the exterior, and she returns the covers to their previous position before grabbing her phone charger from her duffel.

Harry glances at her as she gingerly sits on the bed and plugs her phone into the wall. “I’m going to shower.” He says slowly, as if gauging her reaction to the simple phrase. “Do you, um, need in there, or—?”

“Nope.” Y/N shakes her head, her cheeks flushing slightly as she checks her messages. “You’re good.” She keeps her eyes glued to her phone until she hears the click of the bathroom door behind Harry, signalling that she’s alone.

Taking advantage of what she knows will be a rare moment of solitude over the next week, Y/N changes from her tank top and leggings into her pajamas, wishing that her past self had realized how likely it would be that she’d be sharing a room with Harry. She’d brought exactly two pairs of pajamas with her on the trip, and neither pairs were something she wanted Harry to see her in.  The first pair, a baby pink silk set she’d bought on a whim from her favourite lingerie shop, is eliminated before Y/N even considers them, leaving her with just her usual casual pajamas.  Unfortunately, Y/N’s usual casual pajamas consist of an old sports bra that she’d had since moving to L.A., and a pair of men’s boxers that she stole from an ex in college.  Still, despite her hesitancy, she knows that plaid boxers and a faded grey sports bra are better than pink silk and lace, and she changes into them quickly before sitting cross-legged on the bed and dialing Jo’s number.

Jo, like she usually does, answers on the third ring, her voice extra chipper to compensate for the verbal lecture that she knows is coming. “Hey, Y/N!  How was driving today?”

“It would have been better if I’d known Harry was driving.” Y/N sighs, rubbing her palm over the cold skin of her exposed thigh. “Shouldn’t I have been informed of that decision?”

“It completely slipped my mind, actually.” Jo says casually, and Y/N can just picture her leaning her chin into her palm. “How was the first day?  Are you calling to ask me to help bury his body in the desert?  Because, like, you know I would in a heart beat, but I think it may put a damper on mine and Laure’s nuptials if my best friend murders her best friend.”

“No one’s been murdered. Yet.” Y/N glances at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower echoing through the vents and into the bedroom. “Although a ‘help me hide the body’ phone call may be coming soon.”

“Uh oh.” Y/N hears something crackling against the speaker, and pictures Jo shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “Is it that bad?”

Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose as she contemplates the easiest way to answer Jo’s question. “He’s such an irritating ass.  He really is.” She lowers her voice, but only slightly.  If Harry’s eavesdropping, she thinks, then let him hear.  It would serve him right. “He wanted to pick a fight over every little thing, and he’s so particular about his car—did you know he named it?  He named it, Jo.  He talks about it like it’s a person!”

A loud sigh echoes through the speaker. “That’s really not that weird, you know.” Jo replies in her best peace keeping voice. “And, by the way, did you know that you’re really the only person who finds Harry irritating?  Laure adores him, and I really like him, and everyone who meets him thinks he’s very thoughtful!”

“Then they haven’t been trapped in a car with him and his playlists for eight hours.” Y/N begins to tap her fingers against her knee in a quick staccato pattern. “He practically interrogated me about Brant today, as if he has any clue about the people I date.”

“Did he?” There’s a trace of curiosity in Jo’s voice now, and Y/N can imagine her leaning forward in interest. “What did he say?”

“He said he thinks he’s boring.” Twisting a lock of her hair behind her ear as she speaks, Y/N leaves her hand resting against her cheek. “He was rude about it, too.  I didn’t ask for his opinion.”

“Well, honestly, Y/N…” Jo’s curiosity twists into hesitation. “Brant isn’t exactly the most thrilling person.  You know that.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushing for what seems to be the millionth time that day. “I’m aware of that.  But he didn’t need to be so smug about it!”

“Okay, well, what’s done is done.” Jo says as she takes on her mediator persona once again. “So there’s nothing else to do now except go to sleep, get back in the car tomorrow, and continue driving.”

The sound of the shower stream cuts off, leaving just the pitter patter of rain beginning to hit the roof of the motel as ambiant noise. “I guess.” Y/N mumbles, fidgeting with the waistband of her bra. “I’ll talk to you later.  Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After the line clicks dead, Y/N flops back on the squeaking mattress and begins to scroll through her phone, opening her work email to check if everything is running okay back home while she’s gone.  On top of all this, the last thing she needs is for her work to completely blow up in her absence.  Within minutes, Y/N becomes so engrossed in her phone that she doesn’t even notice the bathroom door creaking open and Harry walking out with just a towel around his waist.

Until she looks up, and then her mind goes completely blank.

Immediately, Y/N feels overstimulated.  There’s just…so much going on that she doesn’t even know where to look first, let alone have the ability to remind herself that she shouldn’t even be looking at Harry like this in the first place.  

Harry’s curls are soaking wet, curling down around his flushed cheeks in a way that, if it were anyone else, she’d immediately describe as attractive.  Droplets of water are clinging to every inch of his skin, his toned and tanned and tattooed skin, that seems to continue forever as her eyes travel down his bare chest, noticing every curve of his muscle.  His jade cross, which is almost the exact shade of his eyes, sits between his pronounced pectoral muscles, moving ever so slightly with each step he takes.  Y/N notices tattoos she’s never seen before, like the giant butterfly across his toned stomach, and—her mind goes blank for just a moment—two vines that are tattooed over his prominent pelvic muscles, which just barely dip beneath the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his hips.

As Y/N’s eyes glue themselves to the way Harry’s towel is moving as he walks, arousal begins to pool in her stomach, travelling all the way down to her core and back again.  For a split second, she thinks that maybe Harry is right.  Maybe she doesn’t want to fuck Brant, because she knows for certain that she’s never thought about him the way she’s thinking about Harry in this moment.

But it’s Harry, she reminds herself, as she tries to force herself to snap her gaping mouth closed. Underneath all those muscles and tattoos—and there are a lot of muscles and tattoos—it’s Harry, who annoys her to no end, who is one of the most self-absorbed individuals she’s ever met, and who has had it out for her since the day they met.

“Sorry.” Harry’s low accent snaps Y/N from her thoughts and pulls her wandering eyes back to his face. “Forgot my clothes out here.”

“It’s—” Y/N’s voice cracks in the middle of the word, still hyper-focused on just how it’s possible for one person to be as attractive as they are irritating, and she clears her throat before trying to speak again. “It’s fine.”

If Harry notices the slip in Y/N’s voice, he doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he just walks to his open bag, locking one hand firmly over his towel as the other searches through his clothes.  He pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, examining them for just a moment before nodding in satisfaction and heading back to the bathroom. Y/N almost swears that she sees him glance at her one last time before he shuts the door, but then she gets lost in the taut muscles of his back, and forgets what she’s thinking entirely.

She’s only just begun to contemplate that maybe she should pull herself together when the door opens again, and Harry exits the bathroom in a way that’s a little more presentable.  His hair is still damp, but his body is dry, proven by the faded Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s now clinging to his arms and the boxers that are hanging low on his hips. His tattooed hips.  His incredibly sexy tattooed hips that could probably—

“What are you wearing?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at her as he moves his bag from the chair to the ground.  He begins to unfold the bed from the armchair cushions to reveal a creaking twin bed, carefully stretching it out as he waits for an answer.

“I—pajamas.” Y/N glances down at herself self consciously, fixing the strap of her sports bra as she does so. “I just—I didn’t think we’d be sharing a room, so…”

Harry nods tersely as he finishes setting up the bed, his expression unreadable while he walks to the closet and grabs a set of sheets and a blanket. “Cute boxers.” He says casually. “Are they Brant’s?”

Within a flash, the intense rush of attraction and desire Y/N had been feeling is gone, and is instead replaced by the familiar irritation as she watches a smirk grow in the very corner of Harry’s mouth. “No.” She says flatly, turning her attention back to her phone.

“Interesting.” Harry says slowly, laying the sheets and blanket on the bed in a haphazard manner. “Whose are they, then?”

Y/N gets up from the bed and grabs her toiletry bag from her duffel before answering. “An ex.” She says shortly, tucking the patterned bag under her arm. “And why does it matter to you?”

The sound of the rain against the roof and windows gets louder and louder as they speak, and Harry raises his voice to be heard over the precipitation. “It doesn’t.” He shrugs as he maneuvers his lanky body under the blanket without causing the bed to fold in on itself. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, you don’t need to be curious.” Y/N opens the bathroom door, sparing one last withering glance at Harry over her shoulder.  He’s sitting up on the bed with one leg hanging out from beneath the covers as one hand plays with his hair, the other fiddles with a ring on his finger, and the way he looks at her from the corner of his eye lights a fire in Y/N’s chest.  Except she can’t tell if it’s a fire of anger or arousal.  

When she slams the door behind her, it’s her own confusion over that distinction that frustrates her more than anything else.

…

“Took you long enough.” Harry scoffs while leaning against the side of his car, his white t-shirt a contrast to the dust covered body of the black Chevy Impala.  His dark sunglasses are perched on top of his head, keeping his unruly curls out of his eyes, while his arms are crossed over his chest impatiently as he waits for an answer. “I dropped off the keys ten minutes ago.”

By way of explanation, Y/N holds up the cardboard drink tray in her hands, a brown bag balancing in between the two coffee cups. “I was getting us breakfast, Styles.  Calm down.” She walks to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and climbing in one handed. “I figured you’d be even crabbier hungry.”

“You mean you’d be crabbier without caffeine.” Harry retorts, climbing into the driver’s side in one smooth motion. “Here—” He takes the tray from her so she can buckle her seatbelt, carefully removing the two coffees and setting them in the cup holders between them. “Just be careful not to spill anything.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she picks up the coffee closest to her (she’d gotten them both black). “Why? Worried about me ruining Stevie?”

Harry reaches into his pocket, pulling out his keys as he gives her an irritated look. “Yes, actually. I’ve put a lot of work into her.” The car roars to life as Harry turns the key in the ignition, buckling his own seat as the motor warms up. “Adding on two thousand miles to her in five days is already worrisome enough, and that’s not even counting the other two thousand she’ll get on the way back.”

Y/N doesn’t respond to the comment, and instead lets the sound of Harry’s playlist fill the silence of the car as Harry peels out of the Motel 6 parking lot.  She’ll be glad to leave that place behind, she thinks, and focus on finding something better—and more private—for tonight, wherever they end up.

Harry, however, doesn’t seem content with letting silence fall between them. “How did you sleep last night?” He asks after a few moments, one hand on the steering wheel as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye suspiciously, Y/N reaches into the paper bag and grabs her Danish, taking a small bite before answering. “Not great.”

“Was the bed bad?” Harry asks curiously, his brow furrowing while his eyes stay glued to the road, moving only to glance at the occasion sign directing him back to the highway. “The pull out wasn’t great, but I’ve slept on worse.  I would’ve thought the bed would be better than that.”

“No, it—I mean, the bed wasn’t amazing, but it—” Y/N clears her throat and swallows the bite of pastry in her mouth. “I, uh, I don’t sleep well when it’s raining.”

At this new information, Harry’s eyebrow quirks up, and he risks a look in her direction to attempt to read her face.  Y/N’s own eyes are focused on the Danish in her hands, refusing to meet his gaze as she lifts the pastry to her mouth to take another bite.

“You don’t?” Harry asks after a moment, the confusion in his voice almost visible within the space between them. “But it’s like white noise, isn’t it?  Supposed to be relaxing, and all that.”

Y/N gives a half shrug of her shoulders. “It’s—well, it’s not the rain, exactly, just—what it’s usually paired with.” Y/N hopes that her clear hesitancy to answer will be enough of a signal to Harry for him to drop the subject.  Harry, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on the reluctance in Y/N’s voice; or, at least, he doesn’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“What do you mean, what it’s paired with?” Harry takes a small sip of his own coffee, careful of the temperature of the liquid. “Like…wind, or—?”

Y/N debates back and forth with herself internally, but she knows that Harry won’t drop the subject without getting a satisfying answer. “Thunder.” She answers finally, setting her coffee down in her cup holder before turning her gaze towards her window. “I don’t like thunderstorms, ever since I was a little kid, and when it’s raining, it always feels like thunder is around the corner.  Puts me on edge, like I’m waiting for it.  And I can’t sleep.”

“So you never sleep when it rains?” Harry asks slowly, and the tone of incredulous disbelief in Harry’s voice is enough for Y/N to be able to imagine the expression on his face. His forest green eyes wide, strawberry pink lips agape, brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw slack as he contemplates a response to a grown woman admitting that she’s afraid of thunder. The image in her head is enough to make the back of her neck flush.

There’s a tightness in the back of her throat, and Y/N attempts to clear it again before answering. “Never.”

“Huh.” Harry taps his fingers against the gear shift in succession three times. “You’d hate London, then.”

The casual comment catches Y/N by surprise, but she doesn’t allow herself to lower her guard. “That’s why I don’t live in London.” She mumbles the words as her fingers pick at the napkin wrapped around her Danish. “I picked L.A. for a reason.  It has lots of heat, barely any rain, and I’m reasonably close to Disneyland whenever I feel like I need something magical.” The last part slips out without Y/N thinking, and the flush creeps further up her neck as a surprised laugh leaves Harry’s mouth.

“Something magical?” Harry repeats, new crinkles appearing next to his eyes as he laughs, as if the dimples that crease his cheeks aren’t proof of his amusement enough. “Do you frequently feel like you need something magical?”

It’s Y/N’s turn to give an incredulous look now, her body half twisting towards Harry to observe his confusing reactions. “How did I just admit that I’m afraid of thunder, and the thing you’re focusing on is that I like Disney?”

Harry shrugs at her words, flicking on his turn signal to exit towards the highway. “I don’t know.” He says as he peers over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. “I mean, everyone has fears.  Not liking thunder isn’t exactly uncommon, you know.  However, hearing that Ms. Serious Type A Perfectionist likes magic—” His grin grows bigger by the second. “Now that’s surprising.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N mutters, finishing her Danish in a few more bites.  She waits until she’s entirely finished chewing before continuing the conversation over the voice of Billy Joel coming through the speakers. “Since I’ve admitted something I’m afraid of…” She starts, glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s only fair that you admit something, too.”

Harry snorts in response, his hand freezing its movement with his coffee cup still half lifted to his lips. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N hums as she slips off her shoes in order to pull her legs beneath her to fold into a cross-legged position on the car seat. “Not so much fun when it’s your turn, huh? C’mon, what’s the Brit scared of? Not enough biscuits for afternoon tea?”

A short and harsh breath of air leaves Harry’s nose, half a snort as he sets his coffee down in his cupholder. “No, actually, diminishing biscuit levels are a low level fear for me.”

“Then what’s a higher one?” Y/N prods, watching as Harry’s neck muscles tense as he shoulder checks to change lanes.  There’s something about the movement that catches her eye, but she can’t quite figure out why—or rather, she can, but she’d rather pretend that she’s unaware.

“Uh…” Harry’s fingers nimbly switch on his turn signal before he transitions to the left lane, his right hand moving the gear shift to its desired place. “Crowds.  I’m not a fan of big crowds, really.  Like when everyone’s pressed together, so tight that you can’t breathe, and you can’t hear yourself think because it’s so loud…yeah. I don’t like that.”

The simple answer surprises Y/N as much as she imagines her answer surprised Harry. “Crowds?” She repeats back to him, a forgotten memory of long gone conversations coming to the forefront of her mind. “But what about, like, concerts and stuff?  Laure always told me when she’d go to shows with you…”

“That’s different.” Harry shrugs as one of his ringed hands comes to his lips, rubbing over them slowly as he contemplates his next words. “I…When I’m at concerts, I always go with someone, and if we’re in the general seating area, where there’s a lot of people, I always stick with them.  Like, sometimes, if it’s getting crowded, or people are pushing, Laure will hold my hand, so…” Redness begins to creep up Harry’s pale neck, staining the tops of his ears a deep berry colour as he trails off.

Not for the first time since their conversation began, Y/N is surprised at how candid they’re being with each other.  As she watches Harry’s blush grow, she feels her own diminish, a physical representation of her trading her embarrassment for something more empathetic.

“I get it.” Y/N says after a moment, once it’s clear that Harry isn’t going to continue. “When there’s thunderstorms, um, I feel better when I’m with someone, or talking to someone. It makes me feel less…”

“Alone?” Harry finishes for her, his eyes flickering from the road to her profile.  His green irises capture hers for longer than they should, his focus completely gone from the stretch of highway for at least five seconds before Harry’s attention turns back to driving. “Yeah.” He says slowly, pulling his sunglasses down from his hair to hide his eyes. “Yeah, less alone. It helps.”

Y/N nods slowly, unable to look away from Harry’s side profile.  It’s apparent that he’s on edge after their conversation, and she knows her body language is the same.  Tight in the shoulders, hands clenched, back rigidly straight.  And yet, seeing her own body language reflected in front of her bothers her.  Part of her wants to reach out and take Harry’s hand, soothe him like Laure does in the crowd of a concert, but she knows that’s ridiculous.  It’s ridiculous, and it’s Harry, and Harry, of all people, does not need her comfort.  Not in the slightest.

She watches as Harry clenches his fist on top of his thigh.

…

“Is this really necessary?” Y/N asks, slamming her car door shut as Harry does the same on the other side of the vehicle.  She leans over the roof of the car, crossing her arms on the cool metal as she tilts her head to the side in an inquisitive manner.  The clouds in the sky are getting darker by the minute, signalling the beginning of the storm that canceled her flight, and the angry black colour above their heads is making Y/N anxious.

Harry, however, seems unbothered by the gathering storm, and nods tersely as he pushes his sunglasses up onto his head before opening the door to the backseat and grabbing his army green jacket. “Of course it’s necessary.” He says, slipping the jacket over his broad shoulders before slamming the door shut and locking the car. “I’ve never been to Utah before.  I want a souvenir.”

“Okay, but—” Y/N follows Harry as he walks towards the dilapidated building in front of them. “Here? Really?  Does this seem like the best place?”

Harry glances at her over his shoulder at her, pausing his long strides to look up at the building he spotted from the highway.  If the chipped grey paint that was once pastel blue and dust-coated windows are any sign, the structure is probably older than Harry and Y/N combined, with a splintered front porch wrapping around its small perimeter.  The building has one faded sign above the door that reads “SOUVENIRS/SNACKS” in hand-painted capital letters, and seems to be hanging onto the outside façade by three small bolts and sheer willpower.  Y/N’s almost certain that she’s seen this exact building in a horror movie before someone gets murdered, and while getting back into the car with Harry isn’t at the top of her list of wants, it’s certainly preferable to getting stabbed to death by a serial killer.

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Harry waves off her concern without a second thought about the appearance of the shop. “If you’re really bothered, you can wait in the car.”

Y/N considers it for a moment, but decides against it.  She needs to stretch her legs, and honestly, Harry seems too trusting.  He probably wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was sketchy until their knife was in his back.  And, seeing as how he has the keys to the only getaway car available, Y/N kind of needs him around without a stab wound carved into his flesh.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She sighs, pulling her own jacket around her tighter as she steps over the worn wooden steps to the door. “We’re on a schedule.”

When Harry pushes open the door, the smell of stale air hits Y/N before anything else.  Despite one open window and a fan in the corner of the shop that’s being used in a weak attempt to circulate the air, it feels like nothing fresh has been in the shop for a while.  Y/N shoots a glance at Harry, caution and warning written all over her face.

While Harry sees her glance, he waves off her concern, turning his attention to the few shelves and wire racks around the small shop that are lined with inventory.  Within a few moments, he’s entertaining himself in the post card section, comparing different photos of the Utah landscape to each other with great care and concern.  Y/N observes him for a few moments before wandering off on her own towards the snack section of the shop.  Although there are a few items that she thinks about picking up, the thick layer of dust over the packaging puts her off from purchasing them.  She grimaces as she continues walking, stopping in front of a tower of silver key chains in the back corner of the shop.  Most of them, she finds, are crosses and bible verses, and all of them give her an ominous feeling in her stomach.  Y/N runs her finger over a miniature silver version of the Ten Commandments, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she does so.

“I think we should go, Harry.” She calls to him without turning around, setting the key chain back down on the rack carefully. “Just pick your post card and—Harry?”

When Y/N turns around, Harry’s broad figure is nowhere to be seen.  She walks back over to the post card section slowly, her brow furrowed with confusion as a knot tightens in her stomach.  Where could he be? She wonders, running her hand along the dusty wire rack in front of her.  It’s not like there’s anywhere for him to go in the small shop, and she would have heard if he left, or if he drove away.

“Harry?” She calls again, her steps slower now as worry fills her voice. “Where did you—fuck—!” Y/N screams as something grabs her from behind, its fingers digging into her sides harshly.  She whips around to find Harry standing over her, loud outbursts of laughter spilling from his strawberry pink mouth at the look on her face.

An indignant flush rushes over Y/N’s face. “You’re such an ass!” She hisses, gripping his shoulders and shoving his laughing frame away from her. “I swear, you’re like a five year old—”

“Did I worry you?” Harry snickers between his words, a wicked look of mischief alight in his dark green eyes. “Were you afraid something happened to me?”

Y/N’s cheeks burn with anger as she turns away from him, crossing her arms defiantly. “No.  I wish something had happened to you.  Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your immature antics.”

Harry’s lips stay quirked up in a smirk as he follows her, his voice falling into a singsong tone. “You were worried.” He insists, chuckles still rolling out of him every few moments. “I could tell.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N snaps at him in an irritated voice. “Just pay for your stupid post card and let’s go.”

“I already did. There’s a sign on the desk saying the clerk is out for lunch, so I left some money.” Harry nods to the small desk in the corner with a few dollars left tucked under the dusty service bell. “I think that’ll cover it, yeah?”

“Whatever.” Y/N can’t resist shoving Harry one last time before walking towards the shop door. “That’s enough.  Let’s go. I want to make it to the motel before the storm hits.”

…

The nice thing about Grand Junction, Colorado, Y/N realizes, is that their motels have multiple single rooms available on short notice.  While she didn’t realize the importance of this fact before this trip started, having an evening of solitude and her own stable space away from Harry for the first time in two days is nothing short of a blessing.

When she gets inside her private motel room, which, while still shabby, is leagues above their previous motel, Y/N locks the door before breathing a sigh of relief.  Just the silence in the room is wonderful, and even though she knows Harry is right next door, having a wall between them is a luxury that she doesn’t take for granted.  When she showers, she doesn’t have to worry about being quick, or toweling off as fast as she can so she can get dressed inside the bathroom without Harry seeing. There’s no need to worry about anyone hearing Y/N sing quietly to herself under the (albeit weak) stream of the shower, nor is there an uncomfortable stick of her sports bra to her back caused by water droplets that she couldn’t reach in her hurry to dry off. And after her shower, with some of the knots from her back finally worked out, Y/N is able to stretch out on the double bed in the center of the room, her phone in her hand as she reaches for the takeout menus stacked on the bedside table.  She peruses the menus available before settling on Chinese takeout, and within five minutes, her order of a two entrée plate and fried rice is on its way.

Y/N sighs gently as she leans back on the pillows, wishing that she and Harry had stopped at a liquor store before coming to the motel.  She knows she could probably walk to one, but now that she’s showered and comfortable, the last thing she wants to do is wander around Grand Junction until she finds a bottle of Moscato.  Instead, Y/N flicks on the TV with a click of the ancient remote, and begins scrolling through the channels until she finds a rerun of Dirty Dancing that’s just starting.

An amused yet wry smile appears on Y/N’s lips.  It’s this movie’s fault that she and Harry are on an impromptu road trip, really. Jo and Laure both loved it, and were insistent that they had to get married at a resort in the Catskills similar to one from the film.  As her two friends cross her mind, Y/N settles into the sheets as Baby begins her narration, contemplating whether or not she should call Jo to check in.  Just as the thought pops into her head, however, the phone rings.

Y/N answers within a moment, not bothering to check the caller ID.  She and Jo had a strange habit of calling each other the moment the other thought of it, and when she raises her phone to her ear, she expects to hear her best friend’s familiar voice reply. “Hello?”

What voice she actually hears, however, surprises her. “Hey, Y/N.  I’m glad I got through.” Brant says easily, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “How are you?”

“Brant!” Y/N jerks up in bed in surprise, the remote falling from its perch on her stomach onto the sheets. “I—I’m fine.  How are you?”

“Oh, alright.  Just busy with work, but that’s the usual.” Y/N can practically picture the neutral expression on his face, and how he’d shrug his shoulders as he speaks. “How’s the road trip?  I can’t imagine driving for as long as you have to drive.”

“It’s…it’s alright, yeah.” Y/N speaks slowly as she puts her phone on speaker, balancing it on her knee while her hands begin to fidget with her rings. “Long, but not too bad.”

“Well, that’s good.” Brant clears his throat thickly, as if what he’s about to say makes him uncomfortable. “I miss you, though.  And our weekly dinners.”

A feeling of guilt washes over Y/N.  Truthfully, besides Harry’s inquisition on the first day of driving, Brant has barely crossed her mind.  Granted, he isn’t usually at the forefront of her mind while she’s in L.A., either, but for the last few days, her thoughts have been constantly consumed by the stress of making it to the wedding and her annoyance and frustration with Harry.  

“Y/N?” Brant’s voice crackles through her speaker again. “Are you there?

“I—yeah.” She says quickly, pulling herself from her thoughts. “Sorry, just—long day.  I’m tired.”

“I can imagine.” Brant says sympathetically, but there’s something in his tone that almost sounds patronizing. “Who are you driving with?  Have you been taking turns?”

Y/N pauses the fidgeting of her rings before snatching her phone from its balanced place on her knee. She quickly opens her messages and scrolls to her thread with Brant, searching through the text bubbles for a reminder of what she’d said to him.  Had she not told him that she was traveling with Harry?

Within a moment, Y/N confirms that she hadn’t.  All she had said was that she was getting a ride with someone.  Why had she done that, she wonders?  She’s sure she’s mentioned Harry in passing to Brant at least once.  When she talked about the wedding, probably.  As she thinks about it more, however…what had she told Brant about the wedding?  About Jo? How much does he actually know about her personal life?  Most of their dinner conversations revolve around work, or some book both of them have read.  Had the topic ever come up in detail?

“I’m, um, I’m driving with one of Laure’s friends.” Y/N brings the phone closer to her mouth as her other hand works its way to her mouth.  She begins to chew on a hangnail absentmindedly between her words, something she always does when her nerves begin to get to her.  She can’t count the number of times Jo has grasped her wrist and pulled her hand from her mouth to chastise her about the habit. “We’re…we’re in Colorado now.”

“Oh, Colorado.  That’s nice.” Brant says over the rustling of papers. “Listen, Y/N, I’ve got some work to get back to, but I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Uh, yeah.  Sure.  I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N nods, and then the line goes dead.  Out of curiosity, Y/N checks the length of the call.  The time 3:09 blinks back at her.

Tossing her phone back down on the covers, Y/N resumes her relaxed position in bed, despite being anything but relaxed after that phone call.  She should feel guilty, she thinks, for not telling Brant about Harry. But then again, what’s there to tell? She said she was getting a ride with one of Laure’s friends, and that’s true.  She hadn’t lied.  And even if Brant did know that the friend is Harry, why would he care?  It’s just Harry.  There’s no reason for Brant to be alarmed, because there’s nothing going on. And she and Brant…Y/N glances down at the call time again.  Things are different between them.  There’s…they’re comfortable as they are, she thinks.  They’re not dating, and they’re comfortable like that.  So there’s no reason to tell him about Harry, because there’s nothing to tell.  Nothing at all.

Y/N refocuses on the TV screen, where Patrick Swayze is dancing in a tight black tank top. Right.  Nothing to tell.

…

When Y/N leaves her motel room the next morning with her bag over her shoulder, Harry is already waiting by his car, leaning against the dusty black body with two coffee cups in his hands.  He’s dressed in another black t-shirt (Y/N wonders just how many identical copies of the same shirt Harry has) with usual jeans covering his long legs.  His curls are tied out of his face with a dark green bandana, and Y/N knows that if his eyes weren’t covered with his black sunglasses, the bandana would make them even brighter than they usually are.

“Hey.” Harry calls to her, extending a ringed hand that holds a coffee cup towards her as she walks over. “I got the coffee this morning.  You drink it black, right?”

Y/N nods as she takes the cup from him, careful not to brush over his fingers with her own. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harry crosses around to the back of the car, opening the trunk with a turn of his key. “Here.” Harry holds out his free hand for Y/N’s bag, taking it from her and setting it down on top of the suitcases in the back. “I got it.”

Y/N regards Harry with a bemused look as she wraps both hands around her coffee cup. “Thanks?” She says again, more questioning this time as she looks at him strangely. “I can do that myself, you know.”

“I know.  I’m just trying to be polite.” Harry’s voice takes on its usual bite like he’s flipping a switch. “Is that alright with you, princess?”

Within a second, the familiar irritation with Harry returns to Y/N, and it’s almost comforting to snap back at him in a testy voice. “Don’t call me that.”

Harry snickers under his breath, and although the sound makes Y/N’s annoyance grow, she detects a different tone in it than a few days before.  Before she can place a finger on why it sounds different, however, Harry is climbing into the driver’s side of the car and starting the engine.

The two of them are silent as Harry finds his way back to the highway, and they stay in that silence for the first few hours of that day’s leg of the trip.  As the third hour begins to pass, Y/N is content listening to the throaty and captivating voice of Stevie Nicks fill the cab of the car. By the second chorus of the song, Y/N is humming along quietly, her foot tapping to the same beat that Harry’s fingers are spelling out against the steering wheel.  It’s comfortable, she thinks after a moment.  The silence between them.  It feels different than it did on their first day, when Y/N was questioning her choice to get into a car with Harry and commit to a 42 hour drive. The silence seems to be fueled more by comfort than tension.  It’s…refreshing.

A memory from the first day ignites in the back of her mind, a spark so bright and obvious that she can’t believe it took her so long to see it. “Stevie.” Y/N says suddenly, turning to Harry as a smile spreads over her face. “You named your car Stevie, as in Stevie Nicks?”

Harry laughs, his shoulders moving up and down beneath his black t-shirt from the motion.  One hand lifts from the steering wheel and points a finger gun at her. “Took you long enough.  I was wondering how many days you’d have to listen to my music to get it.”

Y/N gives his hand a light shove. “I was too distracted by the fact that you named your car.” She rolls her eyes, bringing her bottle of water to her lips for a short sip. “I still think it’s weird.”

“It gives her character.” Harry defends himself as he rubs a hand over the steering wheel absentmindedly. Y/N can see the mirth swirling around in his light irises. “A bit of personality.  Just because you don’t value personalities doesn’t mean anyone else doesn’t.”

“I don’t value personalities?” Turning in her seat to stare at Harry head on, Y/N raises an eyebrow in question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just your taste in men, that’s all.” Harry says it casually, like it really can just be a “that’s all” type of sentence.

Within a heart beat, the comfortable atmosphere in the car turns to ice as Y/N straightens in her seat, her spine tense, tightening every nerve in her body along with it. “What the fuck does that mean?”

When Harry glances at her again, his eyes darken, his guard going up as he senses the shift in Y/N’s tone. “Nothing, just…motel rooms have thin walls.” Harry mumbles, having the decency to keep his eyes on the road as his ears redden slightly. “And from what I overheard, Brant doesn’t exactly seem…stimulating.”

Y/N sputters indignantly for a moment, unable to form a coherent response as anger rises in her chest. “You—” She sucks in a quick breath that hits the back of her throat harshly. “You eavesdropped on me?”

Harry licks his lips once, clearing his throat once before answering.  The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel has resumed, his nervousness apparent in his movements as well as his facial expressions. “Not on purpose.  I told you, the walls were thin.”

“So put in head phones!” Y/N exclaims, gripping her water bottle so tight that her fingers begin to strain in protest against the metal exterior.  She has half a mind to throw the bottle at Harry in her anger, barely able to talk herself down from the ledge of the idea.

Harry’s posture shifts in his seat as his shoulders square, and Y/N can practically see his defensive side emerge from within his chest. “It’s not like you two were having phone sex.” He rolls his eyes at the idea. “It was the most boring conversation in the world, and lasted, what, three minutes?  Makes you wonder how long he lasts in other ways, doesn’t it?”

“Stop the car.” Y/N’s voice is low and void of emotion as she replies, her body turned back forward in her seat.

“Am I wrong?  It’s not like you know for sure—”

Anger bubbles over in Y/N’s chest, cancelling out any rational thought she has inside her and leaving pure, unadulterated fury. “Stop the car, Harry!  Now!”

Harry half jumps in his seat when Y/N yells, and he quickly jerks the car to the side of the highway without so much as a turn signal.  Pulling her seatbelt off as he pulls over, Y/N is out the door before Harry can so much as put the car into neutral.  While her more rational mind would tell her that she has nowhere to walk to along a highway in Colorado as the sky darkens to an angry black above them, the only thing she’s thinking of is getting away from Harry.  Stupid, self-absorbed, ignorant, and rude Harry.

“Y/N—” The sound of Harry scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind him pushes her to walk faster. “Y/N, come back—”

Y/N turns around on her heel fast and hard, heart pounding so fast that she thinks it might break through her ribs. “What is your problem?” She hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why do you insist on being so—so nasty about him?  You don’t even know him!”

Harry freezes where he is as the wind whips his hair around his face, his bandana barely keeping the messy curls in place. “I don’t—” His speech falters, and he sucks in a sharp breath before continuing. “I don’t think I’m being…nasty.”

“Well, you are!” Y/N takes a deep breath in, placing her hands over her stomach as it expands with air.  It’s a trick that Jo taught her back in high school, as a way to ground herself to her body. Feeling the movement of air in and out of her lungs helps calm her, even if by just a fraction. “Brant is just—he’s someone I’m talking to.  We’ve gone on dates, but we’re not dating, and even though we’re not dating, that doesn’t mean that you can insinuate things about him, or eavesdrop on our private conversations!”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he listens to Y/N speak, waiting until she’s finished her speech to respond in a harsh and clipped tone. “I already told you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. And I’m teasing you.  It’s supposed to be a joke.  Isn’t that what friends do?”

“But we’re not friends, Harry.” Y/N’s voice is flat, the fury in her tone replaced with a hollow emptiness. “We’re not friends.  I don’t need you teasing me about a boy like we’re buddies, or whatever, because we’re not.”

Although Harry opens his mouth to respond, no words cross over the edges of his pink lips.  His jaw tightens even more as he closes his mouth again, and Y/N can see a million things flitting through his green irises, which are getting darker by the moment.  Y/N’s not certain if the darkness is from her words, or the black sky rolling above them that’s sapping the light of day from the atmosphere, and she’s not sure if she can take the answer either way.  Part of her knows that maybe—just maybe—she’s blown this whole thing out of proportion, and maybe she should examine why Harry making fun of Brant bothers her like it does.  It’s not like she’s unaware of his shortcomings, she thinks, but then she wonders why she’s now seeing them as shortcomings, when a week ago, she saw them as positives.  Y/N never has to worry about Brant being too much for her, or forgetful, or scatterbrained—he’s organized, and secure, and stable, and that’s what she likes.  It’s always been what she likes.

Harry’s delayed response tears Y/N from her thoughts. “Not friends.  Got it.” He mutters, rubbing his hand over his stubbled and taut cheeks. “Just get back in the car, then.  Let’s go.”

…

“Hello!  My name is Gracie, I’ll be your server today.” The waitress in the tiny diner smiles at Harry and Y/N, a notepad in one hand and a half filled coffee pot in the other. “Can I get you guys anything to start?”

“Coffee.” Harry and Y/N speak at the same time, each person’s eyes flickering to the other before looking away.  Y/N keeps her eyes focused on her off-white ceramic coffee cup as Gracie fills it, refusing to make eye contact with Harry again.

The last hour has been almost unbearable.  After they got back in the car, Harry had turned off his playlist, and for the first time since the road trip had begun, true silence had fallen between them. Y/N had thought she would like it, but truthfully, it had been the worst thing she’d ever heard.  Every few minutes, she’d hear Harry shift, or sigh, or tap a tense finger against the gear shift, and she wished that she could say something, but she didn’t.  She couldn’t.  She’d been grateful when he wordlessly exited the highway and parked in front of a diner, as the conversations of stopped truck drivers and the clatter of a kitchen was a good distraction from their argument.

A movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and Y/N glances up just enough to watch Harry slip a pat of butter into his coffee, stirring the contents of the cup with his spoon until it’s melted together.  She wrinkles her nose in disgust, and almost opens her mouth to make a comment (“Really, Harry?  Just add milk like a regular person, instead of drinking a cup of grease.”), but bites it back before it can fall off her tongue.  They’re not exactly in the position to make quips to each other, she thinks, especially after she told him that they weren’t friends.

Which they’re not. They’ve never been friends; that fact isn’t exactly news.  Not getting along has been Harry and Y/N’s signature since the day they first met. So why is there a pit in Y/N’s stomach that gets deeper every time Harry looks away from her?

The click of heels alerts Y/N of Gracie’s returned presence before her voice does. “Have you two decided what you’d like to eat?”

“I’ll have a turkey club, please, on whole wheat bread.” Harry folds up his plastic menu carefully. “And a glass of water on the side.”

Gracie nods, taking the menu from him before turning her eyes to Y/N. “And for yourself?”

“Um—” Y/N had barely glanced at the menu, too lost in her thoughts to think about it. “I’ll just have a burger, please.  And a water, as well.”

Gracie nods as she writes down the order, taking Y/N’s menu and giving the pair one last smile before disappearing to the kitchen.  A fresh wave of silence falls between Harry and Y/N as each of them sips their coffee, both of them doing their best not to look at the person sitting across from them.

Y/N’s best, however, is not up to her usual standard, as she can’t stop herself from stealing a few quick glances while Harry looks out the window.  He hasn’t shaved in a couple days, she notices, as the stubble on his cheeks and chin is even darker than it was the day before.  There’s a permanent crease between his eyebrows, his face as tense as she’s ever seen it, and a darkness over his whole expression overall. It’s like there’s a new wall up between the two of them, and Y/N’s never felt more detached from him.  Which, honestly, is saying something.

She’s looking back down at her own half empty coffee when Harry finally speaks a few minutes later, his voice just as tense as his expression.

“Shit.” He says in a low voice, and then the next sound Y/N hears is that of someone ruffling through pockets.  

She looks up to see Harry doing just that, his hands digging through the outer pockets of his army green jacket. “What?” She asks, her curiosity outweighing her need to continue the silent treatment. “What is it?”

“I had the vows in my—my pocket, but they’re—” Harry jams his hands inside a pocket sewn into the lining of his jacket, and Y/N watches as his face visibly relaxes. “Oh, thank God. I thought they fell out.”

Harry removes his hand from his pocket, two folded up notes clutched within his hand.  Each one is labeled carefully, one with Jo written in Laure’s neat penmanship, and the other with Laure scribbled in Jo’s quick writing.  

Y/N recognizes the papers immediately.  It’s easy, really, considering the amount of time she spent helping Jo rewrite draft after draft of the same sentiments. “You have Jo and Laure’s vows?” She questions, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Why?”

“The same reason you have their wedding bands.” Harry shrugs as he turns the papers over in his careful fingers, making sure not to crease them. “They forgot them.”

A small smile plays on the edge of Y/N’s lips at the memory of her forgetful friends. “Right.  Of course.”

Harry’s eyes flicker to Y/N’s mouth at the sign of movement, and he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth before responding. “Want to take a look?”

“At their vows?” Y/N looks around, as if someone could be watching and monitoring them. “I—that doesn’t seem right.”

“Fine.  Then don’t look at them.” Harry says easily, setting the note labeled Laure on the table between them.  His nimble fingers unfold the paper labeled with Jo’s name as his green irises begin to scan across the sheet. “I’ll read them.”

It only takes a few seconds of watching Harry read over the words for Y/N to crack. “Wait.” She brings her thumb to her mouth, chewing anxiously on her cuticle as Harry quirks an eyebrow at her. “Will you read them to me?”

When she asks, Harry spends so long staring at her that Y/N thinks he’ll refuse.  His jade eyes meet hers with an intensity that almost makes her flinch, but Y/N holds his stare, refusing to be the first to back down. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Harry gives a sharp nod, looking down at the note before he starts to read from the beginning.

“‘My darling Jo’,” He begins, his voice soft and low, his accent thick. “‘It seems so strange that this day is finally here.  I feel like we’ve been building up to it ever since the day we first met, and yet it’s always seemed so far away.  When I was a little girl, I always’…” Harry trails off as his eyes continue to move across the words, and he clears his throat before attempting to continue to read aloud. “‘I always thought that there was something wrong with me.  I thought that the things that I felt, and the way that I loved, was dirty.  I thought it was wrong.  I thought that—that I was going against God, and against nature, and that I was going to be punished for it.  And then I met you’.”

Harry pauses to take a sip of his coffee, and Y/N does the same.  There’s a shine beginning to appear in his eyes, and Y/N recognizes it as the beginning of tears because she feels the same thing brimming in her own eyes. She feels a bit guilty for reading the vows, but reasons that it’s for the best.  If she were to hear them for the first time at the wedding, she doesn’t think she’d be able to keep it together.

“‘The moment I met you, I knew that the way I loved could never be wrong, or be dirty, because I was loving you’.” Harry’s accent grows thicker the more he reads, and although Y/N hasn’t seem Harry in many different emotional states, she can tell that this is a sign of how the vows are affecting him. “‘Being with you could never be wrong, and God could never get mad at me for it, because only God could create someone as perfect as you.  I promise to love you when you wake me up at 3 A.M. because you’ve stolen all the blankets, and I promise to love you at 6 P.M. when you almost burn down our apartment while trying to cook for me.  I promise to support you through everything, listen to your stories, and watch in wonder as you make a difference in this world.  I promise to never let my anger get the best of me, and to always give you the benefit of the doubt.  I promise to love every version of yourself that you grow into, just as I’ve loved all the versions you once were.  I promise to love you in every way humanly possible, and even in ways that aren’t humanly possible.  I promise to love, period.  I’—” Harry’s voice cracks, and he glances up at Y/N as he clears his throat to continue. “‘I love you’.”

Y/N doesn’t realize just how emotional listening to Harry read Laure’s vows has made her until the first tear wells over the corner of her eye.  She turns her head towards the window to wipe it away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, but from the way Harry is looking at her when she turns back around, she knows that he caught what she was doing.

“That, um—” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to attempt to clear the emotion from her throat. “Wow.”

Harry carefully folds Laure’s vows back up, taking extra care to re-crease the paper exactly how it had been folded. “I didn’t know she…felt like that.” Harry says after a moment, his voice quiet. “Like she was…wrong.”

Y/N, unsure of what to say, just nods while reaching for Jo’s vows in front of her.  Like Harry, she takes great care when unfolding the paper, smoothing it gently between her hands. “I’ll read Jo’s, then?”

Harry nods as he takes a sip of his water. “Sure.”

Y/N licks her lips once, wetting them with what little saliva she has in her mouth before beginning. “‘Laure’,” She starts, emotion already rising up to form a lump in her throat. “‘I don’t even know where to begin.  I’ve tried to write down all the ways I love you a million different times, but I can never seem to find the right words.  The problem is, I don’t think that there is a big enough word to describe what I feel for you.  ‘Love’ is only four letters, and four letters is just not enough to contain everything I feel.  ‘Adoration’ is nine letters, but even that doesn’t come close.  I think the best way I can describe it is ‘permanent’.” Y/N pauses her reading to take a long gulp of water, the coolness soothing the dry and parched feeling in her mouth and throat. “‘Anyone who knows me knows that I have trouble committing.  The idea of having something forever, of being in one place, normally terrifies me. But the idea of having you forever, and being in one place with you forever…that’s all I want.  I want us to be permanent to each other.  Even when we struggle, and we will struggle, I know that we won’t fall apart.  Committing to you isn’t any trouble.  It’s as easy as breathing.  I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us.  I love you, permanently.  I’ll love you when you’re sick and gross, and I’ll love you when you’re old with a bad hip.” A small laugh falls out of Y/N’s mouth before she continues. “I’ll love you when you haggle at flea markets for the best prices, and I’ll love you when you do something so stupid that it makes me want to tear my hair out.  I love you permanently, and I want all of our family and friends to witness me saying that.  I’ll never back out, or bail, or run away from you.  You’re the one thing in my life that’s never felt hard. You’re my home base, and my north star, and you bring me back down to Earth whenever I need it.  I love you permanently, Laure.  I’ll never stop’.”

As she finishes reading, Y/N folds the paper back up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before grabbing the other note sitting on the table.  She pushes them towards Harry, her misty eyes unable to meet his. “Here. Put these away again, somewhere safe.”

Harry takes the vows from her, slipping them back inside his inner jacket pocket for safekeeping. “It’s probably—” He clears his throat once more, and Y/N knows that the vows have caught him in his chest just as they’ve caught her. “It’s probably good that we read them now, so that we’re…prepared for the ceremony.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wraps her hands around her coffee mug, the warm ceramic surface heating her cold fingers. “You’re right.  They really…love each other.”

Harry taps his fingers against the table top, a concentrative and thoughtful expression on his face.  His eyebrows are knit together above his stormy green eyes, and his pink tongue swipes over his pinker lips once before he speaks. “You know, Laure is my closest friend.  I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Immediately registering the tone of Harry’s voice, Y/N’s head snaps up, her own eyes becoming stormy as they meet his own. “Jo would never hurt Laure.” Y/N says defensively, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking up at even the suggestion of her friend hurting someone. “Didn’t you hear her vows?  I’ve never heard her sound so sure of something in her entire life.”

Harry’s jaw flexes at the cadence of Y/N’s voice, and his is just as agitated when he responds. “I’m just saying, if anything ever happened—”

“And I’m just saying, it won’t.” The tension between them doubles as Y/N shoots Harry an icy glare. “Do you just look for the worst in people?  Is that all you do?”

“You think I look for the worst in people?  Really?” Harry barks out a harsh laugh, pressing one hand flat against the table as the other fixes his bandana. “Christ, if that’s what you think of me—”

“Why would I think anything else?” Y/N asks incredulously, tilting her head to the side as she regards him. “All you’ve shown me is—”

“Alright, I have the turkey club on whole wheat, and the burger here.” Gracie appears suddenly to Y/N’s right, her tray loaded with food. “Here you guys are…” She sets the plates down in front of Harry and Y/N, her gaze darting between them nervously as she reads the tension in the booth. “Is…there anything else I can get you two?”

“No.” Harry’s voice is hard. “We don’t need anything else.”

…

By the time Harry pulls the car into a motel just off the highway in Lexington, Nebraska, all Y/N wants is a moment alone.  The strained atmosphere during that day’s drive had been unbearable, and between the anxiety from her confrontation with Harry and the sound of thunder beginning in the distance, Y/N just needs some space to herself to relax and calm down.

Of course, just because that’s what she needs, doesn’t mean that she’s going to get it.  When Harry returns back to the car with a single key in his hand and a sour look on his face, Y/N knows for sure that the universe is against her.

This room, at least, she’s pleased to find, has two actual beds, which are pushed up against the wall perpendicular to the door with a small night table between them.  However, that’s where her pleasure stops, as the click of Harry turning the lock behind her just reminds her that she’s trapped in here, with no chance to get away from Harry, the oncoming storm, or any one of her problems that have developed over the last four days.  The reality of the situation hits her all at once, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control to toss her bag on the bed and walk brusquely to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her before she allows herself to show a sign of her emotions.

The rest of the evening passes in silence.  She showers before changing into her sports bra and boxers, but the amount of exposed skin sends a vulnerable shiver down her spine.  Y/N opts for pulling a sweatshirt over her body, and then sets herself the task of braiding her hair to distract herself.  After that’s done, she busies herself with her skincare routine, taking up as much time as she can in the bathroom before she absolutely has to leave its private interior.

Harry, however, seems to want to see as little of Y/N as she wants to see of him, and pushes past her to enter the bathroom the moment that she steps out of it.  His routine, it seems, is designed to take up just as much time as hers was, because by the time Harry exits the bathroom, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him, Y/N is already tucked under the covers of her bed, although she’s far from asleep.

In the time it took for her to shower and get ready for bed, the storm had picked up, and the only thing audible in the room was the sound of rain pelting against the roof and window, the wind howling through the trees, and Y/N’s shallow, uneven breaths. She wraps the sheets tightly around herself, pulling them taut to her chin with clenched fists that tighten every time a clap of thunder echoes through the room.  Although she’s turned to face the wall, away from Harry, she can hear his footsteps pause as he gets a glimpse of her shivering form beneath the blankets, and she does her best to will herself to appear asleep.  Breathing in as deeply as her tight chest will allow her, Y/N attempts to even her breathing, forcing her shoulders rise and fall in a way that appears natural and normal.  But all it takes is one clap of thunder for the controlled motion to go out the window.

“Y/N…” Harry’s voice is low, but despite its raspy cadence, it lacks the rough edge that it had earlier. The bed behind her squeaks, signalling that Harry’s taken a seat on the edge of it. “Are you—?”

“I-I’m fine.” Y/N says quickly, pulling the sheets tighter to her chin as another shiver rolls through her body. “Go to sleep.”

There’s another creak of Harry’s bed, and Y/N imagines him climbing under the starched linen covers, his damp curls flopping into his eyes as he lays back on the lumpy motel pillow. The image is almost enough to distract her until there’s another clap of thunder.  The sound seems to shake the motel room, and Y/N can’t stop the small whimper that leaves her lips as her body jumps in response.

“When I was a little kid, my mum took my sister and I to the fair every year.”

Harry’s deep voice cuts over the rain, and Y/N shifts in her bed, turning over to face him.  She keeps the covers pulled up to her chin, but readjusts herself so that she can keep her head on her pillow while looking Harry in the eye. “What?” She asks, confusion audible in her quiet tone.

Harry shifts himself as she does, continuing to move down until he’s completely horizontal, with one hand tucked under his pillow as he speaks. “My mum took my sister and I to the fair.  It came to Holmes Chapel every spring, and there were always rides, and games to play, and so many things to see.  It drew crowds from nearby villages every year, really big crowds, and my mum always held my hand tightly so I wouldn’t get lost.”

“I don’t understand, what—” Another clap of thunder shakes the room, making Y/N flinch halfway through her sentence.

“You’re okay.” Harry says immediately, his calm jade eyes focused on her as the reassurance slips from his mouth.  He waits a moment, gauging Y/N’s body language and waiting for his examination to be positive before resuming his story. “So…my mum always told me not to wander off, but when I was six, I did.  I saw some older kids playing games that I wanted to play, and Gemma was busy playing some sort of game with a ball—I can’t really remember what—and when my mum turned her back, I ran off.”

Y/N’s about to open her mouth to ask why he’s telling her the story when the answer clicks into place in her head.  She thinks back to the conversation in the car the day before, how she told Harry that it helps when someone talks to her to distract her from the thunder.  That’s what he’s doing, she realizes, as she forces herself to focus on his quiet and level voice.  He’s trying to keep her calm, even after everything she said and did today.

“I don’t look like it now,” A small smile flits across Harry’s blushed lips. “But I was pretty scrawny back then.  And all the people around me were so tall, my eyes were barely level with their hips. Everyone was rushing around, going in all directions, and I kept calling for my mum, but she couldn’t hear me.  No one stopped to help me.  I felt like I was…trapped.  Like it was a huge forest of legs, running all around me, circling me, and I couldn’t get out.  I was probably only gone for five minutes, but to a six year old, it felt like an eternity.  And just something about it…I don’t know.  It changed me.  I still don’t like crowds because of that day.”

Y/N’s shoulders unclench the slightest bit as another gust of wind blows against the window. “That must have been scary.”

Harry’s own shoulders lift in a slight shrug as he shifts the sheet to cover him more. “It was. But I can’t change it.  I just have to deal with the repercussions of it. That’s all a fear is, really.  A side effect.  We just have to deal with them as best we can.”

More thunder booms loudly outside, but Y/N manages to keep her flinch to a minimum, despite her hands curling into fists again under the covers. “Harry…” She whispers his name into the darkness between them, his outline barely visible save for his green eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry about today.”

Harry shakes his head, his damp hair rubbing against his pillow. “You don’t have to apologize.” He whispers back, his tone as gentle as she’s ever heard it. “I was an arse.  I shouldn’t have pushed the topic.”

“I shouldn’t have been so uptight about it.” Rubbing her eyes with one fist, Y/N lets out a low sigh. “I felt so shitty all day because of our fight.  I’ve never…none of our fights have ever made me feel like that.”

“Maybe it’s because…” Harry’s tentative voice trails off, his eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment before staring back at Y/N nervously. “I don’t know.  I thought we were getting along better.  For a moment, at least.”

“We were.” Y/N’s teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she feels a sudden shyness overcome her at the admission. “I’m sorry I said that we…weren’t friends.  I think…I don’t know.  I’ve been stubborn for so long, but I can see now that you’re different than I thought you were.”

“Yeah.  Me too.  I was wrong, too.” Harry runs a hand through his damp curls, a soft laugh leaving his mouth. “How did we even end up like this?  I barely remember what made us hate each other so much in the beginning.”

“Seriously?” Y/N raises an eyebrow, barely peaking out from beneath the sheets as another clap of thunder sounds. “You don’t remember?”

Harry mimics her expression. “Do you?”

“Yes!  It was the very first night we met.  We had that double date with Laure and Jo.” Shifting beneath her covers, Y/N moves herself into a better position on her side, so she can be more comfortable while still maintaining eye contact with Harry. “And you were rude, and made inappropriate jokes, and you left in the middle of the date to go chat up a sorority girl!”

“Wait a minute, no!” Harry protests the memory, half sitting up in his bed as he speaks. “That’s not what happened!”

“Yes, it is!” A small laugh falls off Y/N’s lips at his indignant reaction. “I remember it perfectly!”

“No, you remember it wrong!” Although a flush creeps up Harry’s neck, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips, a tiny hint of a dimple just barely appearing in his visible cheek. “I was making jokes to try and break the ice, which didn’t work on the Ice Queen, it seems—” Harry motions to Y/N teasingly. “And you’re the one who started talking to some bloke before I started talking to that girl!”

Another clap of thunder echoes through the room, but Y/N hardly notices as she thinks back to the night they met, and who Harry could possibly be referring to. “A bloke—?  He was a classmate of mine!  I had to talk to him!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.” Harry grumbles, crossing his muscled arms over his sheets. “I had been so excited when Laure said she had an American girl for me, and then—”

“You were excited?” Y/N asks, her voice laced with surprise. “Really?”

The flush on Harry’s neck works its way to the apples of his cheeks. “Well, yeah.” He mumbles the words as his eyes drop from Y/N’s, slipping both hands beneath his head. “She said that you were funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful—”

“And then you met me, and realized that it was all a lie?” Y/N finishes for him, rolling her eyes in the darkness.

“No.” Harry gives a small shake of his head as his body shifts, the motel bed creaking under his weight. “No, she wasn’t wrong.  You were all of those things.  But I wasn’t, and it seemed like…I don’t know.  Like you didn’t think I was good enough for you.  I couldn’t keep your attention.”

The teasing smile slips from Y/N’s face as she registers Harry’s words. “You thought that I thought you weren’t…good enough?”

The nervousness is clear in Harry’s voice now, even over the pounding of rain against the window. “That’s what it seemed like, yeah.”

“I never—I didn’t think that.” Y/N says slowly, managing to relax her body beneath the sheets as she keeps her focus on the memory of meeting Harry. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there, but that’s because Jo set the date up without telling me.  I thought you were handsome, and I liked your accent, but then you started to act weird, and you started flirting with that girl, so I thought you were an ass.”

“You still think I’m an arse, princess, be honest.” The teasing tone replaces the nerves, and for once, Harry’s joke has the intended affect on Y/N.  When she rolls her eyes again, it’s more playful, and the same tone is in her voice when she responds.

“I told you, don’t call me princess.” She replies, running her teeth over her lip gently. “So…I guess we both kind of fucked up that day.”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, a sheepish smile playing over his red lips. “I guess so.”

“Can we just restart?” Y/N’s voice is small when she asks the question, barely audible over the sounds of the storm raging outside. “Like, all the way from the beginning. No more grudges, no more yelling. Even if it’s just for this trip, for Jo and Laure—”

“It doesn’t have to be just for this trip.” Harry cuts in, his eyes catching Y/N’s again. “We’re going to have to be around each other for a long time.  It’ll be a lot easer if we get along.”

Y/N nods in agreement, tugging down her covers to extend one arm towards Harry.  She makes a fist, holding out just her pinkie finger to him with half a grin on her face. “Truce?”

The space between their beds is small, and Harry’s long arm easily makes it across the no man’s land to meet Y/N’s pinkie with his own.  He loops it together with a smile that matches hers, tired and content and just at the edge of a humble new beginning.  Harry’s response is almost inaudible as thunder booms loudly outside the room, but Y/N can still pick out the cadence of his accent under the noise.

“Truce.”

(pt II)

#feedback is appreciated!! #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles preference #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #enemies to lovers #road trip au #fine line #fine line album #dreamwithharry #42 hours #writing

[gothamitelove]

Okay okay I think I’m a big dumb dumb and might be the anon who asked for Gotham! Jervis- then completely forgot I did. If it wasn’t me then I did it on another blog and I’m realllly stupid :(

Anyways, could you do Gotham! Jervis with a S/O whose kinda like Donna Beneviento from Resident Evil 8?

For context Donna is extremely quiet and reserved. She’s a doll maker whose dolls are haunted. She has one main doll whose like connected to her, and like talks for her? If you wanna go all the way, she also has the ability to grow hallucination inducing plants.

Of course if the whole Donna thing is to much can you just do basic relationship heacanons? 💞

hi!! thank you for requesting! here are some basic relationship headcanons for jervis, just bc i don't know enough about resident evil 8 to do your request justice! i'm sorry <3

gotham!jervis tetch relationship headcanons

disclaimer that i feel i should put in every post i make: jervis, like just about every batman villain, has the potential to get very unhealthy relationship-wise.

he can be just this side of obsessive on a good day, which is why, if you want to ever leave the house again, you've gotta have the Boundaries Talk.

"no, jervis, you can't go everywhere with me. of course i want you around, it's just that you have a job, darling, and you have to do it. i know, it's terrible. it's awful."

and he's clingy. he will drape himself all over you in every situation, regardless of how socially acceptable it may or may not be. he just loves hugging you and giving you kisses.

sometimes he can be a little weird about it, touching your face while you sleep and stroking your neck when you eat like that'll help you swallow. it's a little strange, but he does it with the best intentions. you're just so perfect!

jervis is probably the most attentive partner on the planet. he just wants to make you happy, and he quickly learns your moods and what you enjoy just so he can make you smile.

are you ready for tea parties? you'd better be, because you're having one a week. at least. jervis gets very excited about this. he serves your favorite foods, and when you tell him how good it is, he lights up like a christmas tree.

that is to say, compliment him once and you'll never get rid of him.

he loves pet names, both calling you them and being called them himself. some of his favorites are "my love" and "darling", but he can get creative with them too. how do you feel about "sugarplum"?

if you can't sleep at night, jervis will read to you! from alice in wonderland, of course. he has a very nice voice, and he does different accents for different characters. he could have been an actor if he hadn't gone in for organized crime.

he thinks you're the most beautiful person he's ever met, both inside and out. you'll never go a day without hearing him tell you he loves you, that's for sure! he adores you more than anything.

(requests are open! shoot me an ask and i’ll get back to ya asap. and if you’d like to be tagged when i post, dm me!)

#asks #gotham #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader #the mad hatter #batman #gotham fandom #gotham x reader #gotham fox #gotham rogues #gotham series #fanfiction #gotham headcanon #headcanons #gender neutral reader #x reader #dc x reader #dc rogues #dcu #dc #rogues gallery #dork squad #prompt fill #imagine #gotham imagine #imagines

[moon-and-stars-appreciation]

can i do a request about M6 helping MC in some tricky magic and it ends up in a big bang.

Thank you!

I’m assuming you meant it went wrong, so that’s where I went with this! If it’s not what you meant, just send in another request, that’s fine!!

Oh shoot someone reblogged it and put blood in the tags so I’m sorry I forgot but

Blood tw

Part 1

Asra

He’s doing everything he can, he’s been your teacher this whole time and yet… how can anything, any form of magic be so complicated? He doesn’t really know what to do, but he’s definitely doing his best, becoming a partner in this task instead of a teacher.

He stops traveling, he just focuses on helping you, and he spends every waking moment helping you in any way he can.

Sometimes something gets faulty, something small fails, and it’s like a little crack in your mood, in your overall state. So he’s the glue. He’s there to make sure that you’re okay, that you stay upright, that you don’t fall.

And then you fall.

He’s in shock. He almost doesn’t catch you. But he does. And it all fails, all your hard work down the drain, every small step turns out to nothing. A literal explosion of a mess, but he makes sure to catch you. He makes sure that you’re holding on.

This was it, you were going to finish the spell, and you were all going to be ecstatic because this was a huge thing to pull off.

It takes all of the energy out of you, and you feel like you want to drop to your knees, but you keep standing, you hold your ground.

The explosion erupts, casting a blind light, and a deafening roar, everything within a half a mile radius destroyed, burnt to a crisp, except for the ground beneath your feet, and you’re glad you didn’t try to cast it in your shop.

With the spell going wrong, you almost shatter, but his main goal is to keep that from happening. He makes sure that you’re okay before cleaning up the mess.

Everything he does is to make sure you’re okay, because he’s horrified that he lost you again, and he can’t let that happen. He won’t let you preform any magic, just so that you save your energy and keep yourself safe, for about a month. This puts another dampener on your spirits that he doesn’t trust you, but he keeps reminding you that it isn’t that, it’s just that he can’t loose you.

Not again.

After this passes, he slowly starts letting you do it again, always by your side. He makes sure your mood is up, and that you aren’t still down in the dumps. He only stops pestering you when eventually Faust starts randomly telling him to stop as well.

Nadia

Nadia is powerful. In terms of magic, in terms of dominance, in terms if political power, basically in most terms. So when this isn’t going as planned… she knows that this might not end well.

Her help is definitely needed, as she knows a lot of different ways to go about it and look at the situation, but she’s always busy. She always has a meeting to go to, an organizer calling for help, a servant that wasn’t given clear instructions. So when you do get her help, it’s like a little boost in your progress.

She answers all your questions with honesty, and if she doesn’t know how a certain area is gonna work out, she express that. Every time something small goes wrong, she can tell that it dampens your usual sunny deposition, and she tries her hardest to be the optimist in this situation, to point out those details that are going well.

When it falls. You fall. She can tell.

It’s kinda anti-climatic, but for some reason it still drained all your energy to even call the spell forth, just for nothing to happen. And you faint.

That’s what hurts her the most. That you don’t even know that it didn’t work. When you wake up, you’re still excited, waiting for her to tell you that it went well! That she was proud of you! But she can’t. Because she can’t do that to you, and that’s what hurts, to have to tell you.

You fall, you’re in shock for a whole hour before it hits you. You spent months on this just for it to go wrong.

She makes sure that it doesn’t stop you from still experimenting, because that’s what you love most, and she would never want this to damage that. She encourages you to keep trying new things, and tries to keep her smile on, even with her overwhelming stress and disappointment in herself.

Julian

It’s hard for him to stay focused on you for a while, but after a bit, when he realizes how stressed you are and how difficult it is, he accidentally hyper fixates on you and working through this new magic.

Eventually, it’s to where he’s the one who’s focusing on it instead, and you just kinda try to get in the zone to be his partner in crime.

You guys are one hell of a team let me tell you, he’s running around hyperfixating on multiple things at once because they all pertain to this magic (though he’s very confused because magic… is not his thing) and he kinda forgets that you’re there, even though you’re the one that’s going most of the main work, while he rants to you without even realizing it because his brain is going 2882997381024 mph.

When it’s ready to go, you’re so excited! All of your hard work will finally pay in the end! Julian is bouncing off the walls- look at you how’d you do it you worked so hard he’s so proud of you look you did that look-

And then it backfires.

Quite literally, and he just stops dead on his tracks and has to remind himself to function properly because.

MC. MC.

There is blood.. everywhere.

It takes him a bit to realize that not all of it is yours. He’s frantic, and immediately gets you somewhere safe and he’s a doctor but oh my gods why is there so much blood.

He’s losing it, and he can barely even trust his own thoughts as he just can’t focus because you’re losing blood, and he is too but that doesn’t matter, and he’s just pacing and glancing at your body before even calming down for a second telling himself he has to help you.

Portia comes in, with her usual helpful and bright demeanor, but stops dead in her tracks when she sees you lying there. She gets everyone she can think of to trust, and they make sure you’re safe.

It takes everyone a while to realize Julian’s hurt but as soon as you wake up, barely in your right mind from losing so much blood, that’s the first thing you notice.

He almost faints when you wake up, but when the first thing that you point out is his injury, he actually realizes it exists and actually faints.

After the incident, he definitely doesn’t trust magic (he didn’t before but now???) and it takes him a while to be okay with you practicing it again.

He loves you dearly, and just reminds you of cautions and tries to keep you out of harm’s way. Of course he always has, but just know he’s trying to do you some good.

You know what,, I give up,, I’ll just post this, and you can have the other three later, b/c it’s been a while since I’ve posted an HC- keep a lookout for part two heh

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #headcanons #asra #asra alnazar #Nadia #nadia stratinava #Julian #julian devorak #Muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #Portia #portia devorak #lucio #count Lucio #lucio goat #goatman #lucio morgasson #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana Nadia #main three #main six

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 12: Resting at Home (Alt Prompt: Baking)

AO3

Prev

Waking up at five in the morning, feeling like you’re surrounded is disorienting. Waking up with a sore throat and shooting pain in her shoulder was also disorienting. Until she remembered everything from the night before. Adrien was not going to be happy. He’d begged her to tell him if she ended up going on patrol with her father, wanting her to be safe. She didn’t tell him, and now she was certain he was going to be angry. Unless she could get back to the hotel before he woke up. But it was still unlikely that he wouldn’t know. Plagg was a tattle tale. Sighing, she carefully gets out of the bed, maneuvering around her brothers’ sleeping forms on the floor. Walking out of the room, she instantly feels anxious. Deciding a glass of water might calm her down, she heads towards the kitchen. 

“I believe you should be resting, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, making her jump. She winces as her shoulder jostles, trying not to frown at the way Alfred’s lips purse. She knew he was worried. And she knew her family was going to be unbelievably overprotective for the next six months. Or maybe, six years. She’s not exactly sure how protective they actually are. 

“I was going to get a glass of water.” She says softly, pointing to her throat. “I was also feeling a little anxious.” 

“Very well. I was about to start the preparations for breakfast. If you promise to sit and refrain from straining yourself, you may come with.” He says. She grins, immediately falling into step with the man. 

“Could we bake something for everyone for breakfast?” She asks, glancing up at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything too difficult. I mean, I’d prefer to make croissants the first time I bake for them, but there’s not exactly time to do that for breakfast.” She rambles as they walk into the kitchen. Alfred immediately walks over to a cabinet and grabs a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her and raising an eyebrow. She smiles gratefully and sips on the water, relishing in the coolness on her throat. 

“I believe our agreement was that you would sit and refrain from straining yourself.” Alfred says, moving around the kitchen with ease. Marinette huffs but plops onto one of the stools. 

“It doesn’t have to be anything difficult! It could even be….muffins! Muffins are popular for breakfast here, right?” She suggests, flailing her arms, wincing as she does so. It was going to be annoying remembering that her injury was there this time around. There was no Miraculous Cure when her opponent was just a bad guy, not a Miraculous holder. 

“If I allow you to turn on the mixer and place the liners in the tin, will you be satisfied?” Alfred asks with a sigh. Marinette grins and nods. There’s comfortable silence as Alfred moves about the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients. 

“Alfred?” She finally asks, glancing at the man who only hums in acknowledgement. “Who is Slade?” She asks. He pauses, the measuring cup positioned over the bowl. He takes a deep breath and dumps the ingredient in before straightening even more. 

“He was part of the organization that Master Damian grew up in. He’s always hated both Master Bruce and Master Damian. And now, I imagine, you’re also on his list.” He says calmly, clearly looking at her for some type of reaction. 

“So now another villain is after my Miraculous? Joy.” She says sarcastically, pouting as she slumps in her seat. “I was kinda hoping he was just some random guy. Not a legitimate villain.” She adds. Alfred simply shakes his head, sliding the muffin tin and liners towards her. 

“I can assure you, Miss Marinette. Between your father and brothers, this man will not succeed in taking your Miraculous. Marinette frowns, hoping the man is right. 

---

Sitting straight up in bed, Damian tenses. This was not his bed. Blinking, he looks around the room and lets his shoulders relax slightly. He was in Dupain Cheng’s room, of course. She had been attacked last night- He pauses. He frowns as he looks at her pillows, no sight of her. Leaping over his brothers, he knocks on the door for the bathroom attached to her room. 

“Dupain Cheng?” He says lowly, frowning at the lack of a response. He pushes the door open. Empty. So she was missing. She could not have gotten far. And she had to have left of her own volition. No one could have made it past all of his siblings. Leaving the room, he decides his first course of action should be to ask Pennyworth. Judging by the time, he should be in the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen (his technical ban should not be an issue since he was actively looking for Dupain Cheng), he pauses when he sees the girl he was looking for, slumped onto the island. 

“Ah, Master Damian. Breakfast should be ready soon. Would you care to fetch the rest of your siblings?” He asks. Damian frowns, glancing at Dupain Cheng. Was she okay? Should she really be up and running around after yesterday? She might be one of Paris’ heroes, but surely she wasn’t used to being stabbed?

“Very well.” He says, instead of arguing. He would just have to monitor Dupain Cheng from afar. After all, she did take a sword meant for him. 

---

Marinette sighs, pushing herself off the counter. She wasn’t sure how serious breakfast was for the family, but she certainly didn’t want to scare anyone with her bedhead. Hopping off the stool, she winces slightly. 

“Miss Marinette, I do wish you would refrain from jostling your wounds so much.” Alfred says, a small frown on his face. Mari grins awkwardly. 

“Sorry Alfred.” She apologizes before rushing back up the stairs. She glances into several open doors, suddenly wishing she’d counted earlier to know which was hers. She huffs, prepared to give up, when someone clears their throat. She whirls around, raising an eyebrow at Damian. 

“That room is yours.” He says simply, pointing at a door. “Everyone has vacated your room in order to get dressed in their own.” He adds, turning around and walking into a room. Well that’s new, she thinks, surprised that he’s still talking to her. Sure they talked briefly last night, but she honestly thought it was a fluke. Not that she minded. She really did want a relationship with all of her siblings. After being an only child for fourteen years, it was amazing to have so many siblings. Sure they didn’t grow up together, but she was certain that they could all become close. Walking into her room, Marinette quickly gets dressed in clothes that had obviously been left in there by Cass, since they were much smaller than anything the boys could have worn. Smiling, she ducks into the bathroom to deal with her bedhead, squeaking in surprise as something flies into her face.

“Tikki?” She says, shocked at the way the Kwami flies at her. 

“You could have died! You silly, silly girl! I could have lost you last night, Marinette.” She cries, flying at Marinette’s face and patting her with her tiny paws. And in that moment, Marinette swears her heart breaks. 

“Oh, Tikki.” She says softly, bringing her hands up to cradle the trembling Kwami. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry, I was with my family. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m right here.” She reassures her small friend, wincing as she continues shaking. 

“I couldn’t have saved you, Marinette. It wasn’t magic. There would have been no cure. I healed your shoulder as much as I can without disrupting the balance, but it’s still going to take weeks to fully heal.” Tikki says, her big eyes watery. 

“I know, Tikki. But I couldn’t just let Damian get hurt. He’s my little brother, whether he likes it or not.” She says, patting her friend’s head gently before moving to her brush. 

“But-” Tikki starts, pausing when Marinette turns her full attention back to her. 

“But nothing Tikki. I’m okay, you’re okay, and my family is okay. That’s all we can ask for.” She says, going back to her attempts to tame her hair. Her phone, which she had set on the side of the sink, starts buzzing incessantly. Without glancing at the caller ID, she answers. 

“Marinette Dupain Cheng, where the hell are you? Plagg says you left late last night and didn’t come back!” The worried voice of Adrien Agreste leaks through the speakers. Oh, right. She forgot to text him. Oops.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-dobroomsticks

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat marinette dupain cheng is ladybird #maribat damian wayne #platonic daminette #mbdbwm2021 #day twelve alt prompt #ao3fic #maribat fic

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 15 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: The Aftermath.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: hello there! hope this makes up for all the drama I caused 😅 also, if the formatting is off: excuse me, this was written AND POSTED entirely on my phone. Have fun!!!

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl @spacehahn @sarahp-stan @agentbrownierso @our-blood-is-our-ink @fruityhahn

_____________________________________________________________________________

“NO! No no no no.” Kathryn paces up and down in her hotel room. “HOW DID THEY KNOW?”

Jennifer, who is sitting on the couch, computer in her hands, looks at Agnes, who is leaning against the wall. “I’m so sorry, Kathryn.”

“This is a disaster!” She looks devastated.

“Actually, it’s press and any press is good press. PLUS, Jeffrey is a good catch.” Jennifer scans another article.

Kathryn paces towards her, takes the computer out of her hands and sits down on the couch herself as Jennifer gets up to give her some space. Leaning back into the pillows, the actress looks like a mess. A grey tank top falls loosely of her shoulders and her unbrushed hair frames her face that is in painful distress. She puts the computer down on the tiny desk next to the couch and reads an article discussing if Jeffrey and her are Hollywood’s new favorite couple.

The article promises an update and as she clicks on the link provided, she looks at very private pictures taken of herself in her hotel room. Someone must have added the numbers up and figured out where she was staying to stalk and observe her through the window that she, stupidly, didn’t close right away last night. A short series of pictures shows her in front of the window, Jeffrey behind her. Him right in front of her as he leans in for a kiss. Another one of her getting undressed. Another one of him in just his underwear during a photo shoot for another project.

Stressed and in disbelief, she doesn’t even finish reading the captions and quickly sits up again to smack the device closed. Shaking her head, she stares at the floor.

“Kathryn? Are you okay?” Agnes asks cautiously.

——-

“Honey? Are you okay?” Alex asks as you continuously stare at your screen with empty eyes.

You continue staring. “Y/N! You worry me.”

Alex sits down again and places the phone next to her so you look like you are sitting righty with her on the couch. She has been trying to calm you down ever since she got up this morning. Right as she read the first article, she knew the situation was bad.

“Hey… it’ll all make sense in the end. She wouldn’t do that. You know that! You know the press!” Alex really tries and you appreciate it, yet, right now, it’s hard for you to show your gratitude.

“Hm…” you hum and nod with empty eyes.

Ever since you’ve read the article, you have been waiting for Kathryn to reach out. She must have seen it. Jennifer must have seen it. Maybe they all did and it’s the truth and that’s why no one is saying anything.

Alex looks at you again. “It’s probably rumors! You know how it works.” More than ever before, she wishes she could simply wrap you you up in a long and loving hug and make you feel better. Sometimes, it’s hard for her to believe that you’ve been friends for as long as you have and the actress you are bonding about had more physical contact with you than she did. What a story to tell.

“I know,” you say, but the pictures keep being projected inside your head, “but the pictures. These… the pictures! His hands, the hotel, her not talking to me. It all just adds up.”

Alex sighs. You do, too. You both sit in silence.

———-

Still staring at the floor, Kathryn tenses. “Oh my god.”

The other woman stare at her with raised eyebrows.

“Y/N!! I was thinking about the press and all and totally forgot.. she must have read it! OH GOD. She… she…”

“You should probably call her…” Agnes nods.

Jennifer shakes her head. “Not now. You’re way too emotional over all of this. We should organize the press first. Write a statement if you really want to. But really, it isn’t that big of a deal.”

Agnes turns around harshly and faces Jennifer with a stern look on her face. “Excuse me, can you please be her friend again for a minute?” she points at Kathryn, “does she look like it’s not that big of a deal?”

They both face Kathryn again, who has gotten up to get dressed. Without another word, she walks past her friends and employees and storms out of the door, on her way to discuss the matter with Jeffrey.

Meanwhile, Jennifer decides to take matters into her own hands, since Kathryn seems to be way too distressed to hold a serious conversation today. Rumors about her client being with someone aren’t exactly new, but pictures taken of private situations are unacceptable. Without consulting Kathryn again, she decides to publish the statement right away to help her friend.

——-

It’s been two days since the incident and Kathryn hasn’t contacted you yet. Heartbroken, you got updated on the story as her team released a statement declaring that Kathryn wants to keep her privacy and asks for the pictures to be removed off of the internet.

You wish she would’ve called you, or at least texted, but little did you know that she got into a fight with Jeffrey as his team called the pictures good press for him and decided to not do anything about it. Following that, Jennifer took Kathryn’s phone away so that the actress could fully concentrate on the project for the rest of the week of shooting. A rule written into the contract by Kathryn herself, as she is aware she gets carried away from time to time.

Right as she has her phone back, she runs for an empty space and tries to call you. It’s the early afternoon and you are in an online class as your phone starts ringing. Reading her name, your heart drops to the floor. All the stress adds up and gets combined with the anger you feel inside of you. You take the call.

Her face fills the screen and her eyes widen as she sees the state you are in. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

There is a moment of silence. A moment of silence where a storm is raging inside you. “NO. No. You don’t get to be like that. You don’t get to break my heart and then come back apologizing, asking me to pretend nothing happened!” Kathryn’s mouths is slightly agape and her even widen even more. She listens. “I gave you my heart, Kathryn! My time. Do you really think I’m whoring around? Staying with older woman to play round just like that? Is that what you think I am? A toy?”

You are enraged and the words keep coming and you want to call her names and scream, hold onto her and look into her eyes. But you can’t. You can’t and that’s why your words are turning into a waterfall of emotions and you yell at her as she doesn’t have a chance to react in any way.

“I can’t believe myself,” you shake your head. “I offer myself to you and there you are. Going out and sleeping with a man. A MAN. Excuse me for not having a career. Excuse me for not having a six pack like your new friend does. What the fuck, Kathryn. What the actual fuck.”

Kathryn realizes you saw the pictures. Of course you did. She raises her hand to give you a signal that she wants to talk. Your mouth, ready to rant again, closes and you look at her.

She takes a breath. “It isn’t true.”

“It…. Isn’t?” You squint your eyes.

“It isn’t.”

————

2 days ago

————

“Come and spend the night with me.”

Kathryn swirls around. “WHAT?”

Before she can help herself, she finds herself pinned against a table that is close to the window. Jeffreys face is only inches away as he slowly starts to lean in.

“STOP.” She says and tries to lean back.

Obviously confused, Jeffrey looks at her. “I thought we had a great night. What’s the problem, sweetheart? Don’t you miss having with… other people?” He smiles.

Kathryn shakes her head. “I’m… I’m seeing someone, Jeffrey. I’m sorry if this came across wrong but tonight wasn’t a date.”

He distances himself from her, utter disbelief plastered across his face. “Oh no.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a problem. I just… I can’t. You’re a great man, but, no.”

He is still putting space in between them, looking at her with worried eyes. “Kathryn, I would’ve never. I thought you were flirting. I thought you sent signs. God, I am sorry for coming this close to you.. I… I’m just gonna leave, alright? Okay! Good night, Kathryn.”

“JEFF!” She calls for him before he can close the door. “You’re a good looking man. I bet lots of woman would kill to be me right now, but please, ask. Don’t just assume. Yeah?”

He nods and with that he leaves her room. As the door falls into its lock, Kathryn undresses her blazer and shirt and remembers to close the curtains before stripping completely to hop into the shower.

—————-

“It isn’t…..” you repeat.

“No. And I would never do that to you.” She looks at you with sad eyes. “And I can’t believe you would think I do.”

You look at each other for a moment and the sad smile on her face breaks your heart once again.

“I would never….” She repeats, whispering quietly, but loud enough for you to notice. “I would never, because….”

She stops and looks up to lock eyes with you. You are both crying and your heartbeat skips a few beats and you think you might actually pass out any second.

“I would never because I am falling. For you. I would never because I think I am in love with you.”

#kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #kathryn hahn fan fiction #kathryn hahn x you #kathryn hahn fanfiction #glimpses #groupie #groupie au

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

#bangtaninn #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #jungkook fic #btsfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts x reader #armywriterssupport #bts x you #jungkoook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #bts college au