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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.

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s-brant · 3 years

Text

The Endless Summer (2/?)

(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.

A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!

JJ isn't sure why she did it.

He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.

Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.

The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.

It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.

After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.

He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.

"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."

His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.

John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.

"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."

JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.

John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."

They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.

Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.

The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.

JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.

Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.

He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"

"You know I'm right here, don't you?"

The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.

Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.

Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.

Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.

Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.

"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.

She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.

When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."

This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."

He shrugs.

"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."

John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.

"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."

Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.

Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.

Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.

They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.

Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."

His brows raise.

"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."

She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"

He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.

Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.

"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."

The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.

He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.

His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.

"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.

She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.

Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.

"Yeah," he finally responds.

Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.

"Good."

JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.

When he looks at her, he finds memories.

Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.

Part of him hates that.

He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.

When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?

"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.

She gasps, feigning offense.

"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."

And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.

He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"

The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."

Even Pope.

"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.

The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.

She misses him.

For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.

He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."

From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.

She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.

It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.

For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.

"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.

Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.

Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.

For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.

He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.

It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—

The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.

"Y/N!"

Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.

While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.

She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.

"Go back!"

The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.

It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?

Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.

Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.

The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.

It's JJ.

His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.

The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.

After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.

She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"

Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.

Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.

As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.

She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.

Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.

Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.

As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.

Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.

She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.

His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.

Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.

Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.

She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.

"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"

Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.

John B is too busy to engage with them.

He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.

"Are any of you hurt?"

"Why is he throwing up?"

"Is that a shark?"

The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.

John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.

"She killed it."

The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.

She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.

JJ doesn't know what came over him.

Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.

"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."

She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.

Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.

His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.

They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.

Now, she's a Pogue.

He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.

"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."

The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.

In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.

But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.

His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"

The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.

After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.

The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.

No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.

Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.

Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.

Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.

It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.

Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.

The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.

"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.

The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.

That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.

None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...

She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.

"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.

Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?

After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.

Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.

"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."

When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.

It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.

The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.

She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.

They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.

The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.

She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.

They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.

He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.

The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.

However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.

This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.

"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.

Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.

The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"

JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.

"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.

Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.

"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."

Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.

He scoffs.

"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."

No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.

Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.

With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.

In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.

She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.

"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."

Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.

He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.

He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.

The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx2 #this fic is so over the top and silly but I love it 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

Route 66

Requested?: Yes! @dxlanhxlland asked for a Owen x Reader where y/n is oblivious to Owen’s flirting. I added a little more to it, not gonna lie, so i hope you still like it my lovey!

Word Count: 5.6K+

Author’s Note: I found out Route 66 went through Oklahoma and kinda just had to write this tonight... Struck by inspiration, so I was. It’s nonsense, and it’s mine, and that makes it acceptable for the blog. Enjoy!

Warning: nothing really, it’s all fluff.

masterlist | taglist

Being best friends with an actor had some major perks. To start, you were always the plus one for premieres, parties, festivals, all of it. Then there was the constant gifts from around the world sent to you back home, and getting to help with script run throughs if someone’s sick, or being sent over snippets of shows months before they aired, being a part of the secret without having all the hard work that came along with it.

The best thing was always the reunions though, when that favourite person comes back from weeks or months away, back to your little Oklahoma town, even if just for a little while. That feeling of adrenaline and serotonin mixed together as lost souls reconnect after so long apart, it’s special.

Of course, the worst thing is watching them leave again. That’s exactly what Y/N was facing that weekend after two months of her best friend Owen being home from filming in Vancouver.

She knew it would happen of course, his tv show had become a success overnight, it only made sense that the team at Netflix would renew it for another season, but it didn’t make it any easier to see Owen leave again. It was never easy, in fact: Y/N found it was getting harder and harder to make that drive to the airport and send him on his way to LA. The tears that came alongside his departures were plentiful, the rides home alone deathly quiet, the nights empty without him there to spend time with.

It wasn’t like Oklahoma was exactly an exciting place to live.

Y/N had considered taking the jump, moving to LA with the hope of seeing her oldest friend more often, sure, but she didn’t have the money for such an adventure. She had been saving up for a few years now, what with Owen’s rising stardom and eventual permanent relocation imminent, but she was nowhere near close to what she needed.

So, as she woke up that Friday morning, she made a conscious decision as she pulled on a sundress and tidied her hair until a floppy sunhat, as she slipped into some sandals, grabbed her handbag, and ventured into the blazing sun of the Oklahoma summer: she was going to make this the best gosh darn weekend of Owen’s life.

“Well, don’t you look determined.” Owen commented with a smile from across the street, waving from the front steps of his house at his best friend, who waved right back. “What you got planned for me today then?” He asked with a smirk as he jogged across the road, and Y/N took in just how good he looked that morning in some vintage sports top repping a team she didn’t know, paired with a denim jacket and shorts.

“Well, I thought we could go exploring.” Y/N answered with a smile, lifting her car keys from her purse. “I think you need a trip down memory lane before disappearing off to LA again.” The decisive words had Owen unable to contain his smile as he followed her towards the truck parked in her driveway, slinging an arm over her shoulder a they walked over, taking a breath and being overcome with Y/N’s perfume: God, he loved that smell.

God, he loved her. He had for a while.

It wasn’t something he’d be sharing any time soon, of course, the kid was smarter than that. As Y/N tossed him the keys, and jumped in the passenger side of the truck, him taking the steering wheel, he took one more glance at her, committing the image of her sat in her sundress, pulling out a road map that must have been about thirty years old, to memory. He didn’t want to forget any of this as his life continued to zoom forward in the fast lane, he wanted to keep some moments locked in time, just for him.

“You sure we can be doing this? I was getting quite used to sitting on my couch all day, especially with you there...” Owen commented, and Y/N glanced up, nodding quickly, oblivious to his attempts at flirting. She always had been, more associating it with Owen’s charm rather than his attraction to her.

“Don’t worry, I have the whole day planned… Sort of… Got a mask just in case?” She asked, and Owen pulled the face covering from his pocket to prove it. “Then we’ll be taking a turn up to Jefferson, and you’ll need to get us on the Route.” She instructed, and Owen chuckled at her bossy tone, switching on the engine and pulling out the driveway, with the Great American Road in mind.

There wasn’t anything really exciting about Route 66 most of the year, Owen was aware of that. But if you picked the right day, the right car, and right stretch… It really could be a magical place.

It only took them 40 minutes or so to get onto the road, getting lucky to find it nearly empty as Owen revved the engine and started to speed down the tarmac. Y/N had slipped a CD into the truck’s sound system, the map splayed over her knees as they sang along to the country hits from her dad’s old music collection he couldn’t be bothered to clean out.

“You’re really not going to give me any clues as to where we’re driving?” Owen asked for the fourth time since they had started driving, and Y/N just grinned again, shaking her head.

“And ruin the surprise?” She pouted, and Owen bit his lip at the sight of it. “Not a chance, Joyner… We should go on the Live!” She exclaimed suddenly, causing the boy to laugh. Y/N had never been one for technology, but she knew how important it was to Owen’s job: social media presence was important to him, Owen had always enjoyed interacting with his fans.

Y/N took off her seatbelt and slid across the truck seat, reaching across Owen’s body and grabbing his phone out his jacket pocket, the boy doing his best to stay calm as her other hand grazed against the exposed skin above the collar of his shirt. She moved away as quickly as she had arrived, buckling herself back into her seatbelt and finding Owen’s Instagram app. He glanced over, grinning at her puzzled expression.

“Swipe right on the screen, Y/N.” He instructed as he watched the road, and the girl followed his directions. “Are you on the camera?” He asked, catching her nodding in his peripheral. “Great. At the bottom, there should be a button that says live. Click it, and you’ll be there.” He directed, but Y/N was a step ahead, proud of herself as she brought the camera up.

“I think it’s working!” She squeaked in excitement, panning the phone up to a grinning Owen, then out onto the view of the road. “Let me try and zoom…” She muttered, not noticing the watcher count jumping higher and higher up as she tapped on the screen, letting out a soft ‘oops!’ as she switched the camera to face herself. “Owen I think I broke your phone…” She said softly, moving the screen away from her face and frowning. “Oh, wait, no… There’s people talking to you!” She exclaimed, and Owen shook his head at her adorable incompetence, pulling over to the side of the road. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just have an idea.” He said quickly, holding a hand out for the phone and smiling into the camera, waving hello. “Hey guys! Sorry about that, if you haven’t already met my best friend Y/N, you should know she’s a little new to anything from 1998 onwards. Bear with me.” He said with a smile, quickly propping the phone up on the centre console of the truck. “And there, can you see us both?” He asked, quickly glancing down to check the answers. When he received an overwhelming stream of ‘yes!’, he sat himself back with a smile. “Well, spontaneous live! Hello! We are on a mystery trip, Y/N is surprising me before I head back to LA.” Owen prefaced as he indicated back out onto the road, continuing their drive. “We’re, what? Fifteen minutes out now?”

“Yeah, about that. Hello Owen’s followers!” Y/N waved at the phone. “O, what’s the text at the bottom?” She asked, getting the boy laughing again.

“It’s the comments, from people watching. Have a look, read some out, that’s what I usually do.” Owen explained, and Y/N leaned closer to the phone with an excited smile, catching sight of the first comment she saw.

“Aw, they’re all saying hello back! This is so cool!” Y/N squealed, biting her lip as she read a little more. “Why do you use a phone like my grandma?” She giggled at the comment, sitting back a little. “Good question, I don’t have a good answer. I’ve never really needed a phone; not like I would call anyone but Owen anyway. My life’s a lot less exciting than his.” She answered with a smile and happy shrug. “Oh, this exit, this one.”

“You’re sure this leads somewhere?” Alex checked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled off onto a road that was only a step away from dirt tracks. “And for the record, Y/N’s life is plenty exciting.” They shared a glance, both smiling at one another, Owen only pulling his eyes away to focus on the road.

“Well, maybe he’s right but he’s quite a tough act to follow, Owen’s followers.” She commented with another wave to the camera, quickly point him down another dirt road.

“Is this where you kill me on my own live feed, Y/N? That’s so not fetch.” Owen said with a roll of the eyes, and Y/N punched his arm gently.

“Stop trying to make fetch happen, it’s not going to happen.” She muttered, quoting the movie the pair had watched the night before. She leaned forward again, reading the new comments that were popping up. “How long have Owen and I been friends?” She read aloud, and glanced back at her friend. “What is it now, fifteen years?” She guessed, and he nodded. “Wait! Does that make me the original Owen Joyner fan?” She asked with a bright smile.

“I suppose it does… I mean, you were the only person to clap after my third grade concert.” Owen remarked, and Y/N giggled at the fond memory. “So, yeah…” He trailed off as they came over a hill. “Wow…” He muttered.

Y/N was quick to pick up the phone and flip the camera, presenting the view to the audience accompanying them with a giggle.

The dirt track wound its way along to the right, but Owen drove off-road, glad for the tires on the truck, coming to a stop at the edge of the bluest lake he had ever seen in person. The way the road led was to a cliff side, about 25 feet above the water, and trees popped up sporadically around the lake’s border, providing shade against the burning sun overhead.

“I thought this was dream…” Owen whispered, and Y/N turned the camera to face him, catching his expression of complete awe as he looked out at the scene.

The pair had visited once before, as kids, and it looked the exact same as it had back then. Owen had almost forgotten it existed, after them never visiting again he just assumed he had dreamed it, the day out he had spent with his family and Y/N. But there it was, right in front of him, and he turned to look at the girl who had brought it back to him.

“I stole swim trunks from your room last week, and there’s a cooler in the back.” Y/N said with a cheesy grin, glad she had kept the surprise for so long, because the look on her best friend’s face was priceless. She glanced down at the phone again, reading another comment. “Oh, who do I like most out of the JATP cast?” She read aloud, flipping the camera and smiling. “Definitely Owen, but besides him? I met Madison at New Year’s, she’s awesome!” She answered with a grin.

To her left, she was oblivious to Owen’s slack jawed expression as he tried to comprehend just how much he was in love with the girl beside him. Only Y/N would have come up with something this special, this brilliant, and act like she didn’t just make the boy’s entire year.

“You know, whenever I count my blessings Y/N, you show up twice.” Owen muttered, the girl glancing up at him as a blush coloured her cheeks. She glanced back down at the phone, her eyebrows furrowing, the compliment falling prey to the breeze that came through the car’s open windows.

“Owen, what is a Tic Tac and why does everyone want you to make one?” She asked, handing over the phone, and Owen shook his head in disbelief at her, smiling to himself.

“Right guys, don’t go confusing Y/N, her pretty little head can’t always handle it.” He remarked, teasing her as Y/N climbed out the car and made her way to collect the cooler and blankets from the truck bed, shouting a ‘hey!’ in response. Owen laughed, his eyes scanning over the comments for a moment before landing on a question:

When are you going to tell her, Owen? The heart eyes are real.

“I’ll sign out for now guys, come back to you on my story later. Thanks for tuning in!” He said with a wave to the camera, ending the live with a shaky breath, Y/N appearing at his side door a moment later.

“So, what is a Tic Tac?” She asked, opening the door for Owen, who quickly clambered out, taking the cooler off her hands as the pair started for the water’s edge. Y/N laid down the tattered blanket on the sand shores of the lake, and tossed Owen’s swim trunks and her bikini down beside her. If that boy had thought they come here and not swim, he was sorely mistaken.

“A TikTok,” Owen corrected. “Is a short video. Not much more to it.” He shrugged, and Y/N looked up.

“What, like a Vine?” She asked, scoffing when Owen raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like phones; it doesn’t mean I’m a caveman.” Y/N reminded, opening up the cooler as Owen sat it and himself down, handing over a beer to the blonde boy. He smiled, pulling out the car key and sticking it under the cap, popping it off with ease before taking Y/N’s drink and doing the same, both taking a sip of the cold beverage and sharing in a happy sigh.

The silence was comforting, familiar, accompanied only by the rustling of trees in the wind and the sound of cicadas in the nearby grass. It was like the pair had found themselves a slice of heaven only an hour or so away from home, a spot just for themselves, and as Owen glanced over at Y/N, who lay back on her elbows and bathed in the sunshine, he was tempted.

Tempted to maybe tell her how he felt, explain how he didn’t want to go to LA again without her, but the words never came. He wasn’t about to lose her.

“Thank you… For this. For everything, the past few months I’ve been back.” He decided on, taking another swig of the bitter drink, looking out onto the water in thought. “I forget sometimes, how great home can be…”

“That’s alright… You’re life’s moving forward, you can’t get stuck in one place.” Y/N responded softly, letting her eyes cast over him, the way he smiled out on the water, the way he held onto the neck of the beer so that it swung between his fingers. “Just don’t forget home entirely. That’s when you start to lose who you are.” The words were ones she had considered for the past few years now, when Owen’s career took off, she wondered if they’d ever have a talk like this. Where she’d have to remind him where he came from, who he was before fame… Before he left home indefinitely.

“Come on.” Owen clambered to his feet after a moment, holding out a hand to his friend with a small smile. “Time to make some memories.” He said as Y/N’s hand fell into his and she placed down her beer, letting him lead her towards the truck again, Owen scooping up the swimsuits as they went. She did her best to keep up with the blonde boy’s longer strides, the pair starting the trail towards the little cliff that hung over the water.

“Feeling a littler adventurous, aren’t we?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at her friend’s determined expression, taking her bikini from his hands.

“Yeah, it’s usually Charlie doing shit like this…” Owen muttered, coming to a stop as they reached their destination at the top of the hill, amongst trees and bushes. He was quick to pull off his jacket and t-shirt, glancing over as Y/N dropped her hat onto the pile. She couldn’t help stopping and glancing at the toned abdomen her friend had maintained over the years thanks to the job, her eyes trailing up to find Owen watching her with a playful smirk. “Enjoying the view there?” He asked, sending a wink over that had Y/N flushing and averting her gaze quickly, walking around the back of a nearby tree.

“You’re ridiculous, Owen. I bring you to swim and you want to jump off a cliff.” She called out as she stripped down and slipped into the bikini, Owen catching a glimpse of the bare back, gulping at the sight and finding his eyes falling down to his feet. “You’ll need to go first; give me your phone and I’ll film it for the Instagram.” She called again, collecting her clothing her walking back round to the clearing where Owen waited, doing his best to not let his jaw drop.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Y/N in a swim suit before, but as he thought back, it was the first bikini. She was stunning, the white fabric clinging flush against her skin, almost cut like a thong rather than swimwear.

“Owen?” Y/N asked again, dropping her clothes down and waving a hand in front of Owen’s face, breaking the trance she had unknowingly caused.

“Right, my phone… Sorry.” He muttered, reaching down and grabbing it from amongst the clothes, clearing his throat as he came up, handing the device over and walking to the cliff’s edge. “Please make sure you record this. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again.” He admitted, looking back as Y/N filmed him, giving him a thumbs up.

“Do a flip!” She called out as he got his toes to the edge, earning a chuckle from the boy. He took a deep breath, and a few steps back. “Give it some pizazz.” He turned to look to her, and the camera, outstretching his hands by his sides as he walked backwards, right for the cliff edge.

“Gotta stop being adorable Y/N, or I might just fall for you.” Owen said with a wink, taking a final step and plummeting down to the waters below with a yell of adrenaline.

Y/N rushed to the edge of the cliff as she heard a splash, looking down at the deep blue below, the water rippling where Owen had entered, and she waited until he remerged with a flick of his hair and whoop of triumph.

“Come on, Y/N! You can’t leave me down here alone!” He called up, and Y/N grinned, quickly dropping the phone amongst their pile of clothes. She took a second, a deep breath, building up the nerve before running fast and jumping over the cliff’s edge with a front flip, landing in the warm water below feet first, her heart thudding against her ribcage so hard she thought it might break her bones.

She let herself be submerged in the water for a moment before pushing herself to the surface, coming up and gasping for air as Owen swam over, the pair holding onto one another to stay afloat as they erupted into laughter at their reckless abandon.

“Again?” Y/N asked, breathing heavy, and Owen could feel himself falling deeper once more.

“Definitely.”

The following days had been spent in a similar fashion, Y/N being quite adamant in her adventures before Owen left for the sunshine state. She did her best to capture as many of the moments she could too, whether it was a tourist stop or a movie night or diner food along Route 66, she did her very best to take pictures despite sub-optimal phone skills.

She didn’t want him leaving and forgetting her, she wouldn’t let it happen.

His flight off to LA came sooner than either of them wanted, the early morning alarm buzz Y/N was sure to set causing groans to echo around Owen’s bedroom. She had stayed over the night before, falling asleep cuddled into his side during a movie marathon of the Lord of the Rings franchise, not that Owen had minded. In all honesty, the moment she had begun to snooze with his thigh as a pillow, Owen hadn’t moved a muscle, too scared to wake her when she looked so peaceful. He had fallen asleep sat up, and as he slowly came to, his neck was punishing him for that decision.

He surveyed the room through hazy vision, catching Y/N’s shadow rushing off the bed to turn off the alarm clock, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. It was early doors, maybe three or four in the morning, the night outside still dark, thought not for long. By the time they got themselves on the road for the airport, dawn would be breaking.

“Morning, gorgeous.” Owen muttered, his voice heavy with sleep, the words causing Y/N to pause at the sound, a shiver running through her. “What time is it?” He muttered, rolling the pain from his neck and shoulder slowly as his vision finally focused, Y/N gathering the last of his belongings for him to take back to LA with him.

“3.52. We need to be on the road in a half hour.” She voice was no more than a whisper, and Owen smiled. It had been a while since he heard her early morning voice, which was always a mix of sleepiness and Y/N’s fear of waking others in the house. “Go get a shower, I’ll take your stuff down to the car.” She said, sending a smile his way in the low light that made Owen’s heart flutter.

“You got it, boss.” He saluted lazily as she disappeared out the room with the first of his packed cases, leaving Owen to sigh and roll the last cricks out of his shoulders with a fond smile, the weight of Y/N’s head on his upper leg still lingering as he got up, clothes in hand, and headed for his shower.

Their was a tension in his chest that rose and refused to go away as Owen stepped under the stream of warm water, one Owen suspected would stay with him for a lot longer than the flight home, too. He was leaving again, and again he had chickened out of saying how he felt about his best friend. And the excuse that it might ruin their friendship didn’t seem to be cutting it anymore, it hadn’t worked in a while, because now Owen was just lying to Y/N.

Under the water, he had a chance to hate himself and his cowardice, doing so until the water ran clear of soapy suds. But once the suds were down the drain, Owen tried his hardest to focus on all the fun the two had had over his months at home, over that weekend in particular.

How they had stayed at their lake until dark those few days before, cuddled on the sands and pointing out constellations to one another until Owen’s mom called to check in on him, to make sure he was alright. How they had spent the following day on the road again, stopping at their favourite childhood diner, caught up in hours of conversation over milkshakes and burgers. How their last day together had been spent in his bedroom with music blaring as they packed, Y/N joining him for an Instagram live, and an evening of movies and popcorn until sleep took over.

As he pulled on his clothes for the day of travelling, Owen quickly brushed his teeth and found himself scrolling through the photos Y/N and he had captured of the last three days: so many of them blurry or askew, but every single on forcing Owen’s smile even wider. He had gotten the lucky draw of friends, of best friends, but leaving this time felt different…

It felt like they were saying goodbye for good.

“You ready in there, Owen?” A chap came on the bathroom door, and Owen quickly closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, spitting out the last glob of toothpaste and wiping his face before opening the door, Y/N stood on the other side in one of her favourite sundresses, and one of Owen’s hoodies on top. “Time to go…” She said with a sad smile, holding out a hand. He came over to her quickly, her outstretched hand coming around his waist as his rested over her shoulders, and the pair started downstairs and out the house.

“You should come visit this time. I know you have work and things here…” Owen trailed off when she nodded softly, separating from him to head to the truck’s driver side.

“Yeah, maybe I will.” Y/N answered softly, climbing into the truck and leaving it at that. A part of her knew it would be the smartest idea, but it would just lead to another goodbye like this one.

As Owen clambered into the car, he had to push Y/N’s overnight bag to the floor, one she had brought across the street for ease of access, but he was soon buckled in without issue, and they were on the road three minutes ahead of schedule. The only noises seemingly allowed were mechanical: the turn of the tires on the road below, the indicator flicking as Y/N took a turn, the revving of the engine as they started off from a stop light. Neither could muster the strength for words of farewell, it was too daunting, too difficult, and instead their silence swallowed their thoughts all the way to the airport terminal.

When the engine switched off, somehow it all became worse.

“I’ll get your bags…” Y/N spoke up after a minute or so of complete silence, stepping out the car and out onto the deserted terminal drop-off’s pavement. Her sandals slapped between the sole of her foot and the tarmac as she rounded the car to open the truck bed, beginning the labour of hauling Owen’s cases down to the sidewalk. When she heard the truck door slam, she didn’t look up, the pain of goodbye swelling in her chest.

Owen couldn’t stand it, the idea of not having her around every day, of not seeing her smile any more. It had been building up for years, of course, and finally hit its limit: he couldn’t go this time without her. He wholeheartedly believed that going back to LA, then to Vancouver, than to God knew where, would be impossible to bear if he didn’t have Y/N by his side through it.

So as he got out the truck, he grabbed the overnight bag Y/N had left in the truck front, with all her essentials, in front of her eyes, garnering his attention.

“Come with me to LA.” Owen said the words with shaky conviction, trying not to falter as her watery eyes looked up into his. Hers locked on his, then the overnight bag,

“Very funny, Owen…” Y/N whispered, her eyes trailing quickly back to their feet. “I don’t think this is really the time for jokes though…”

“Good, I’m not joking.” Owen said, more definite in his stance this time. “I want you to give your keys to the valet service, I want you to grab that overnight bag, and I want you to come to La with me.”

“Come on Owen…” Y/N sighed, a sad smile on her lips. “I’d cramp your style in the big city, you need to be moving forward…” She looked up, wiping away a stray tear as she mustered the courage to look him in the eye. “You’re just being nice because here is boring, but I’ll be fine. You need to do this, without me, so you can experience it all.” The words were kind, but misinformed, and the longer Y/N went on, the closer Owen came to exploding. “You need to spend time with your friends, with yourself, get to know who Owen is in Hollywood, because it’s not Owen in Oklahoma. Besides, you don’t need me hanging around when you’re working, or out at parties, you certainly don’t need me in the picture when you’re flirting with girls and dating-”

“Jesus, Y/N, the only girl I’ve flirted with in four years is you!”

The words hung in the air, a stray car driving along the terminal front and turning onto the freeway, the two friends stood an awkward distance apart under the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport entrance. A passer-by might have thought them strangers, and in a way they were. The glass had shattered, a secret revealed neither thought would ever come to light: one for fear of losing the other; the second believing such feelings never existed in the first place.

“What… What do you mean?” Y/N’s voice was shaky, her hands tugging at the sleeves of Owen’s hoodie she wore. “Owen, I’ve read the gossip columns, I know you’re dating, living it up in Hollywood. You don’t need to make up some bullshit to try and get me on a plane.”

“It’s not bullshit! God, are you really that oblivious, Y/N?” Owen let out a frustrated chuckle, running a hand through his mess of still damp hair, beginning to pace along the length of the truck before turning back and stopping. “Tabloids are gossip and rumours, Y/N, and none it’s true because I’ve been in love with you for as long as I care to remember!”

The words spilled from his lips before he could moderate volume or filter the language, his biggest secret laid out in front of them both on the concrete pavement below.

“… Why me?” The question was timid, quiet, something that could have been lost to early morning ambience had Owen not so desperately been waiting for a response to his confession. It wasn’t what he expected though, his frustration fading to concern as he walked over, cupping Y/N’s face in his hands, tilting her chin up so the teary-eyed girl’s gaze met his own. “I’m not exactly in your league, am I?”

“You’re far beyond it, certainly. It’s me doing the reaching here… No-one, and I mean no-one, makes me feel the way you do. Nothing makes me happier than seeing you laugh, nothing sadder than seeing you cry…” His thumb came to wipe away another rogue tear from her cheek, a smile on his lips.

“But you could do better! I’m sure there’s a thousand girls in LA who would kill to be with you, Owen.” Her words were frantic, panicked almost. “Maybe you’re wrong, maybe you’re tired and this is just nonsense talk! That makes sense, guys like you don’t flirt with girls like me I-” She was starting to pull back, so Owen pulled her flush to his body, her hands finding position against his chest as he held her tight to him by the waist.

“You’re like air, and light and sleep and water and heat… Y/N, it’s quite clear to me that I need you. And I can’t leave you here, not again.” Owen said softly, calmly, despite his heart’s erratic pace, not dissimilar to the feeling he had only a few days before, jumping off that cliff and plunging into the sapphire blue waters of the lake.

It was that adrenaline that pushed Owen to finally find the bravery to press his lips to Y/N’s, a kiss that had been years in the making for him, and seemingly for Y/N too. She kissed back immediately, her hands coming to his neck and pulling him closer. It felt like floating, his lips of hers, hers on his, the pair not seeing need to break apart as Owen lifted Y/N into his arms, her legs coming to wrap around his waist as her hands held his face tenderly.

“Come to LA with me…” Owen whispered as they finally broke apart, his breathing heavy as he examined her up close. Her eyes fluttered open, her lips swollen from their kiss, cheeks tinted pink from heat, pupils blown like he suspected his own were.

He would never get over how beautiful she was.

“Ok…” Y/N replied, a smile spreading over her lips. It was crazy, yes, and she wasn’t usually the type to do anything without planning it to some degree beforehand, but it felt right. “Let’s do it. Let’s go to LA.” She confirmed, Owen laughing in disbelief and pressing his lips to hers once more.

And so they did, gathering Owen’s suitcases and Y/N’s overnight duffel and booking another ticket for the plane. She left a voicemail for her family, to let them know what was happening, what they had decided, and Owen sent a message to the cast group chat, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

The memories they had made that weekend weren’t the end of something old, rather the beginning of something new.

TAGS: @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @saroo-hawks @all-in-fangirl @charliessunset @lana-moe-fandoms @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @hologramband @korydickson @futuremrsb-r-main @uglypeachh @reggieandthereggies @dxlanhxlland @rogersangel @izzyhogue @writerinlearning @independentgirl @delicatelukepatterson @mybrainiswhack @uhmitstori @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @mjflower @heimdoodle @kcd15 @-episkey- @simp4madi @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @kristencoontz @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @vicesvirtuesfanfic @daisiesforlacey @valntynegillespie @ritz-hell-hotel @hemmingsness @ssprayberrythings @mdlyncline @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @ghostlyb1tch @marinettepotterandplagg

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen jatp #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #jatp owen #julie and the phantoms #jatp #owen joyner imagine #fluff #owen joyner fluff

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peterprkrsbtch · 3 years

Text

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something. “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.” You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter?

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Note

How ‘bout Jealous Soap x reader?

Hello Earthisdonut 🌍 🍩

I saw your ask while I was at work and I can't stop thinking about how the story goes... I had a lot of ideas but as I wrote, it kept on swinging on the other direction. Maybe it's my feelings being resonated into the words or an entire force telling me to go this way. Anyways here you go...

A jealous soap x reader fic.

Take me home

You take a deep breath and closed your eyes, clearing away the mixed sounds of random chatter, loud tv commentary and the all the yelling. 'Friday evening shifts are the worst' you thought to yourself as you make your way back to your station, wearing a smile on your face.

"Hey miss!" a customer whistled from the far end of the counter. You hastily walked to him and smiled.

"What can I get you?" you asked with sincerity in your voice. You've worked long enough to master the art of faking a smile when in fact you are tired, but this job is all you have and the tips kept the bills afloat.

"Two beers and roasted nuts, please." He ordered, you were impressed at how kind he was, unlike the other new customers who reeked of rudeness and bad manners.

"Coming right up, Sir!" you winked as you tend to his order, mentally noting his tab for later. You hand him over the beer, placed on a circular chip that served as a coaster, followed by a heaping bowl of roasted nuts.

This kind of scene continued throughout the night, just with different kinds of people with different combinations of orders. You feel tired but you tend to forget it when you look at the tip jar, the thing that kept you moving forward. It's also the thing that's holding you back from life, you remembered when your best friend told you that you should unwind sometimes instead of rendering overtime during your day offs, to which you replied : "Soon enough", and that was well over a year ago.

As you wiped off the recently left spot by the counter, a well built man immediately took the spot and sat down, you tilted you head upward as the action surprised you. There he was, you couldn't miss his look, he stood out on the crowd because of his haircut, a perfectly cut mohawk and a scar on his left eye. He grinned at you, his blue eyes looked excited as soon as it met yours.

"John? I didn't know you'd be home!" You gasped as soon as you realized he's actually there, quickly putting a shot glass and pouring his favorite drink.

"Hey Y/N! I knew I'd find you here!" his hand gestured for a shake but he quickly dismissed it as soon as he realized he couldn't do it while you're at work.

"Yeah, working as always." you replied, trying to sound contented. He smiled at you as he raised his glass and downed the drink. You couldn't help but look at the way his Adam's apple moved as he consumed the drink.

His face turned into something incomprehensible as he let the taste of the strong alcohol set in, making you chuckle a little. His eyes turned to you as he heard you laugh.

"What's funny?" he asked. You simple shook you head and poured another pint on his shot glass.

"I'll be back in a few. I have to serve drinks for these wild crowd." You informed him, but as soon as you were about to step out, you hear him stand up.

"What time will you be off?" He asked.

"Two more hours." You replied without looking back. You could feel your cheeks warm up and an uncontrollable smile plastered on your face.

"Okay. I'll be here till then." he yelled as you entered the door to the employee's area.

'Shit Shit shit shit.' you whispered to yourself as you regain composure. He felt way off. He didn't act like this toward you before. You could feel something odd between you two, and you're very distracted about it.

You made your way to your manager's office to request a five minute break. You knew he'd approve a breather from you because he was a accommodating to you since day one. You believed it's because you always give it your all in every shift.

You softly knock on his office door and pushed it slightly ajar, peeking your head through it as you saw him on his desk, doing some paperwork.

"Ah, Y/N. You need anything, love?" he greeted in his usual tone. His endearment didn't matter you as he calls every female "love".

"Can I take a five? Just needed to breathe." you huffed. He nodded in approval and stood up.

"Let's puff it out, yeah?" he smiled as he offered a stick of cigarette.

The cold breeze of the Saturday evening wrapped around your work uniform. The noise from the bar was muffled but occasional screams would echo across the street. You exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke through your mouth as the relaxing feel of nicotine coursed through your system. Smoking was your go-to activity whenever you feel extreme unexplained emotions, such as seeing John MacTavish after a long time.

"Tough crowd?" Your manager turned his head to you as you casually leaned on the cold metal railing.

"Not really. I just saw someone I least expected to see." You retorted, pressing your lips against the cigarette butt as you closed your eyes and inhaled the vice.

"Someone you hate?" He queried.

"Not necessarily. But at one point of my life, maybe... It's just... it's complicated." You complained, sighing at the thought of him once again. You mentally fought against yourself whether to reminisce or not, reminding yourself that the reason you went out here was to clear your head, not to fill it with memories of summer 4 years ago.

You fixed your posture and flicked off the cigarette butt to the ashtray. Your boss followed, escorting you back to the office.

"Thanks for the company. I needed it." You thanked him as you crossed the street. He hummed in acknowledgement as he opened the door for you. You couldn't help but scan the room quickly for a mohawk, but he wasn't around. Maybe he went to the bathroom, you thought to yourself as you get back to your station.

9:59 pm. Your eyes trailed to the huge digital clock by the door, rapidly moving across the crowd still no mohawk in sight. This actually made you sad, he wasn't the kind of guy who dissappoints, you always saw him as a man of his word. You did confirm that he already paid for his tab about an hour and a half ago, just after your short break.

Guess you're going home alone. So much for ' I'll be here till then' you mentally argued, frowning as you wiped off the last glass in the tray.

10:00 pm. You sighed and lazily grabbed your time card and let the huge metal clock record your departure. You felt your energy quickly deplete due to the dissappointment that is John MacTavish.

"See you on Monday!" you waved goodbye to your coworkers who seemed to notice your sudden loss of energy. You push the back door slowly and stepped outside. It was getting cold and you weren't prepared for it.

"Hey." A low scottish accent muttered just beside you, making you yelp in surprise.

"Holy crap, you scared the shit out of me!" you angrily punched his strong arm, hurting yourself in the process.

"I'm sorry." he spoke lazily, almost tired or drunk. You couldn't exactly tell, but it was far from his tone earlier.

"Pretty chilly, eh?" you asked him, imitating his accent. Something that you always considered a major turn on when it comes to him.

"A little bit. And your impression is way off, I don't say it like that." he retorted nonchalantly making you worry if something happened while he was waiting.

"You seem a little off, what's the problem?" you asked, playfully bumping him while you walked the empty streets on your way home.

"It's just... uh.. Nevermind." he trailed off, his secrecy was making you impatient and you stopped on your tracks. He continued walking, looking down at the ground until he noticed you're no longer beside him.

He turned back. "You forgot something?"

"I don't get you." you raised your voice. He slowly walked back to you until he's just inches away from your face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I should've just asked..."

"Asked what? You told me you'd stay here till my shift is over and then you're gone like that?" you complained, the tone of your voice was demanding and you could see him flinch when words hurt.

"I didn't want to raise suspicion."

"Who would be suspicious of you?!"

"Shortly after you left, I took a smoke. But I didn't do it by the smoking area. I was way up here, enjoying the breeze." he said, turning to the smoking area which was very visible from up here. Was he sad because he saw you and your manager by the smoking area? What kind of eyes did he have? You didn't want to assume things so you started to supply him with questions to fill in the blanks.

"And? Was the area too sad for you to be all emo like that all of a sudden?" you complained, soing your best impression of an angry person, but you know deep inside that you couldn't get angry at this man.

"Yeah. You could say that." he chuckled. He couldn't even look at you anymore.

"Bullshit." you retorted. He slowly tilted his head and smiled as soon as your eyes met. The view was so gorgeous you almost felt like the world was in slow motion.

"You don't have to believe me if you want. Why are you walking with me home anyway. You could've said no. I bet he has some nice fancy car to drive you home." he blurted, fog started to huff out of his mouth as the snow started to fall from the sky.

"Where are you going with this, John?" you spat, letting the emotions get the best of you. If only he was clear enough then this wouldn't have happened.

"I saw the two of you smiling while talking, I thought to myself. Yeah, she's happy with that bloke huh, I wish I knew that before I invited her earlier." he breathed out. You almost felt guilty, but it wasn't your fault. He easily assumed things that weren't even true.

"What made you think we're together? Just because we're smoking together doesn't mean we're in a relationship. Is that what you thought?" you replied, fighting back helping him on his way to the truth.

He paused, it's as if his whole thought process was shattered when your words stung him.

"I got jealous. To be fair, I was gone for 4 years... I always thought you already found someone else within that time." he frowned. It was not usual of him to feel this vulnerable.

"Look-" you tried to explain but you suddenly felt his warm embrace wrapped around you.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered. The same words he said before leaving 4 years ago. The same words that hurt you back then and the same words that's going to hurt you at this moment. He was the one that got away, he was the one whom you shared your most magical moments with, but not the one who's going to be there until the end. He'll have to leave anytime soon, as his job requires him to save the world. You told him he could settle for less risky world saving endeavors but he insisted that this was his purpose. And you were not willing to let him choose again.

"You know... you're not supposed to feel jealousy." you consoled, rubbing his well sculpted back.

"I know... I couldn't help it." he whispered.

"Let's get you home, John." you whisper to him as he pulls away from you, his face pouted like a baby whose candy got stolen.

"Why are you here anyway?" you added.

"I'm getting reassigned to a new task force. I figured I could say goodbye to someone I hold dear." he smirked, he felt normal, but then again you couldn't help but feel that this would be the last time you'll be seeing him. You we're thinking he won't be able to travel freely back here anymore or worse, he'll be the hero the world wanted him to be.

#earthisadonut asks for a fic #horRAYfic #no spoilers in the tags #but aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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trevor-wilson-covington · 3 years

Text

What could have been...

//Saw that the site I use to make mood boards has a CD Cover option and thought it would be fun to do Sunset Curve’s Demo and Unreleased Songs (+Home Is Where My Horse Is) as they would look as singles!!! I may make CD Covers for the other 13 songs in the show...if people end up really liking these ones and if inspiration strikes!

**Gave an idea of what I think the other 7 songs would be about/why they were written (said what we know Unsaid Emily, Now or Never, and Home Is Where My Horse Is are about already of course too)!!

1. Unsaid Emily: Is of course about Luke’s rough relationship with his mom, which was never resolved before his death. It touches on how he knew he should have turned around and come back home but his pride stopped him. All the conversations he had created in his head about what they would say to each other when he finally saw her again stayed that way, thoughts in his head. Wondering if he had been able to say the right things to his mom or made up with her before dying, would time not have erased the memory of him?

2. Get Lost: I believe it is about the feeling of restlessness and wanting to just take off on an adventure somewhere new or unique. Similar to how Luke finds sleeves (zleeves) restricting, this song is about how life can feel suffocating sometimes and all you want to do is grab a bag of essentials and walk in the mist/ride off into the night to a freer life.

3. Long Weekend: Is about the band’s friendship/brotherhood/sense of found family and how over many weekends they find themselves going through a lot of struggles and heartache together. These are the weekends that feel the longest because there is so much the four boys help each other through and many times they find they don’t want the weekend to end so they can spend more non-band time together to just be four stupid teen boys navigating all the twists and turns of life.

4. Crooked Teeth: My thoughts are that it could have been written when he had braces/a retainer in the 90s & was self-conscious of it, so it was written to cheer Reggie up about his braces/retainer & pretty much say "hey, Reggie...people's smiles vary & they're all unique & beautiful"...instead of mocking him, like the show seems to tell us it was written to do.

5. My Name Is Luke: Is a darker, more introspective song about Luke’s struggle with an identity crisis where he feels he’s being pulled in different directions. One side is the Luke who loves his parents and wants to make them happy and have them be proud of him. The other side is the Luke. who is passionate about writing and playing music, who thrives off the feelings and energies of the crowd as they connect with him and his lyrics. Luke finds he can’t be one version of Luke without ultimately giving up the other and trying to do both is exhausting and soul crushing at times. The title is his way of saying ‘Hey, this is my name, it’s who I am, and I can be a loving son my parents can be proud of while also doing what I love and making a difference in the lives of people who listen to my music’. He just wishes his parents could come to understand that he loves music and he’s really good at it, so why can’t he continue doing it and make them proud at the same time.

6. Now or Never: Is, as we know, about Sunset Curve’s rise to fame and how they can dream as though they’ll never die but they’re going to live their life as though today could be their last day alive. They aren’t looking to the future, because all they need are each other and the energy that is coursing through their bodies in the present. They hear a voice in their heads saying you only have this one life, so make the most of it so when you die you’ll have had no regrets about the things you did or didn’t do. This is their time to shine and even when their lives were bleak or lacking, their days were still the best of their lives because they were making music and gradually making a name for themselves doing so.

Weaved in are of course lyrics that seem to foreshadow their 3 deaths with the mention of shock to their hearts (the defibrillators used to try to keep them alive in the alley or ambulance), clocks moving forward but they don’t get older (how for 25 yrs they were in limbo and didn’t age and are now 17-year-old ghosts in 2020), how they kept on climbing 'til their stars collided (floated up out of the ambulance to the dark place until crashing into Julie’s life (she’s a star as Luke says)), and how all that they left in the past was just the just the key to paradise (all the things they left behind once they died were just ‘stepping stones’ to the ‘paradise’ of heaven for most people or in the boy’s case the path to Julie and playing music again).

7. Late Last Night: Is about the late nights the four boys spent out at clubs/venues leading up to the Orpheum, gigs that helped them gain a decent following, and all the crazy things they saw and did. 17-year-olds out late partying, possibly drinking, on school nights. A higher energy song, similar to Now or Never to match the antics of a bunch of teens practically let loose on the music/club scene during the band’s rise in the Hollywood/LA music scene in ‘93/’94/’95. It evokes the feelings of being wild and reckless as a teen, while also somehow capturing the energy of the nighttime as you move from the crowded main strip into residential areas and how quick and jarring the change can be.

8. Lakeside Reflection: This is a tough one, but I think it would be about the individual experiences most or all of the boys have from going to lakes during summer with their families. There’s of course all the fun time spent with family, but in the reflection on the lake of those moments the boys only see the truth of their family dynamics, what was hidden behind a pleasant façade.

For Luke, it was the strained relationship and fights with his mom over the band and his dreams.

For Alex, it was the looks and offhanded comments made by his parents and the looks of sympathy from his sister, ever since he told them he was gay.

For Reggie, it was the nights spent keeping his brother and sister distracted as the walls practically shook from the volume and intensity of his parents’ almost daily fights.

And for Bobby, it was the truth that he kept up a façade even with the boys so they wouldn’t know that his family, that the others always believed to be perfect, wasn’t perfect at all. When rarely he saw his parents and they weren’t off on business trips or working late into the night, Bobby found them to be disinterested in his life and any affection or love was relegated to a pat on the back or a quick hand held before they rushed out the door once more.

The happy summer vibes at the lake could never truly make any of the boys forget their truths, but at least they could let loose for the extent of their trips and finally feel like a carefree teen again.

9. In Your Starlight: This would seem to be a certain kind of love song at first glance and for some people that’s what it may be, but to me it is a very specific kind of love song. This love song is about relationships each of the boys had, the very few of them, that didn’t turn out well for some reason or another. A passion for music overshadowing the passion to keep a relationship going. The fear of long-term commitment and a short-lived bliss, before the fighting starts, ending the relationship before it ever grew deeper. The smothering of a fire in the soul so outsiders can’t see one trace of its flicker, hidden behind a lie, in case they find out the truth and react with disgust or hatred. Or the overly flirtatious and, at times, clingy antics used to get a person interested in starting a relationship. To keep them invested in the relationship, in an effort to make sure they won’t leave out of boredom or for someone better. This song is from the perspective of those other people, how they saw the relationship, no matter the length, and what they see as the thing that ended it or kept it from growing stronger. How they all in some way felt like they were pulled in by light of each of the boys (the stars) and things were good at first, before the cracks started to appear and reality truly set in.

10. Home Is Where My Horse Is: It’s an expression of where and whom Reggie calls home. The horse had never really stood for an actual horse, but rather it represented Luke, Alex, and Bobby. The people Reggie considered his family, his home, more than he ever would the house he had grown up in. Horses symbolize freedom without restraint, because riding a horse makes people feel they can free themselves from their own bindings. There is no constraining a horse when it runs with the wind, but they also enjoy the company of family and friends. Reggie wants freedom from the stuff with his parents and his own personal demons that keep him held back. He finds with the band, his real family, he can run free and be himself...enjoying being around the boys and not having to worry about fighting and drama. His home is where he (the horse) is... able to be its true self and go where the wind takes it.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #sunset curve #jatp fanart #jatp meta sort of #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #bobby wilson

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nite-shay · 3 years

Text

My Neighbor: Hawks - (Takami Keigo / Hawks x Reader

Funny Idea: Your neighbor is hawks.

Winged hero: Hawks. One of the fastest and youngest heroes pro heroes. Number 2 in hero ranks and number 1 in most eligible bachelors in all of Japan.

And drum roll, please! *Drummy sounds* Tada! He is your neighbor! Shocking, I know, right? The title totally doesn't give it away! Nope, not at all!

Anyways, you might be wondering, 'Nite! How did that happen?'

Well.. ya see... that funny story…

Also, sorry for any typo :)

Enjoy!

Notes: reader is 20+. No warning. Mild rating.

****

"Please be fixed. Please be fixed. "You quietly prayed as you hesitantly reached for the handle that leads to the lobby of your apartment building.

The leasing office sent out a mass email earlier, letting all the tenants know that the central air was 'currently out of order' and they are 'working quickly to resolve the issue.' At least they were 'extremely sorry for any inconvenience this may cause and appreciate the patience of all tenants.'

They also explained how per the lease agreements, no discounts would be provided for maintenance issues and that the full rent would still be due.

I really need to move…

It just had to go out right smack dab in the middle of summer. And on one of the hottest days on record, no less!

You took a deep breath and pushed open the door into what could only be described as a magma cavern. Nope, you weren't on a tropical island; this was just the lobby. Damn, if it was this hot here, you can't imagine what your apartment must feel like.

You trudged your way through the muggy lobby grabbing your mail on your way over to the stairwell. By the time you made up to the very top floor, you were out of breath and drenched in sweat. Honestly, it looked like you just took a dip in a pool. Your clothes clung to every part of your sticky, overheating body. Hell, you were just happy you didn't have a heat stroke by the time you reached your front door.

You prayed your apartment would be cooler.

It wasn't!

It was giving the stairwell a run for its money.

Oh, hell no... NOPE! Not dealing with this.

You marched through the doorway, making sure to lock the door behind you, not like it would make much of a difference. You didn't see or hear anyone on the trip up or in the hallways. No doubt the other residences did the smart thing and retreated for someplace much cooler. You tossed the stack of mail on your end table without checking it. You'd deal with it later. More than likely, the postal carrier had mixed them up again with the tenant next door.... again...

Later problem for later me! Cool now!

You barely made it to your living room before you started peeling your sweat-soaked clothes off. Thankfully you lived alone, so you didn't have to worry about shocking anyone as you made your way to your bedroom. Tossed your clothes in the hamper before slipping into the thinnest shorts and tank top you could find. You would have said to hell with clothes in general at this point, but if you were going to cool this place off, you need to get some airflow in this place asap. That means windows and doors need to be open.

And for the next hour, that's what you did. Every window you had was open as far as they would go, along with the sliding glass door that led to your balcony. The breeze that flowed through your home was still hot and muggy, but it was then nothing. You also gather any and every fan you had, even the pitiful little desk fan that sounded like it was on its last leg. If it ocellated or moved air in any way, shape, or form, that bitch was on high!

It took a little bit, but it felt like you could breathe as the temperature started to drop. Of course, by then, you were on the verge of dehydration and also contemplated, more than once, curling up in your fridge until that accursed flaming ball of gas in the sky went down.

But you had food in there, and you can't waste food. Damn it.

Speaking of food...

You enjoyed a large bowl of ice cream and about three glasses of water. You reveled in the coolness of the sweet treat in your stomach, which gave you motivation for your next venture.

A nice cool shower.

You let the cool water flow over your whole body for what seemed like forever. Letting it wash away the stress, heat, and sweat of the day right down the drain. By the time you were done, your fingers were pruney, and the sun had descended entirely.

Damn, you were tired.

You lazily dried yourself and considered just going to bed as you were. You were on the 15th floor of your apartment building, so it wasn't like you had to worry about anyone peeking in your window. But you still didn't feel comfortable sleeping naked with your windows opened, and you really didn't want to close them.

After a short debate, you settled on a thin tank, and underwear was a good compromise.

Your body felt sluggish as you made your track to your bedroom. It was still relatively early, but between your job and the heat, you were completely and utterly wiped.

Bed... Sleep...

You showed your bed no mercy as you tore the covers off the nicely made bed and tossed them across the room. Then with no grace whatsoever, you let yourself collapse into the cool embrace of your mattress. Between the comfort of your bed and the white-nose of the fans, it didn't take long for drifted off to sleep.

***Later that night

The summer night air was hot and humid as the Wing hero: Hawks, flew high above the city. Even at the higher altitude, the air was so thick, it felt like he was swimming in a dense swamp rather than soaring through the sky. His whole body felt sore and heavy, so much so that he was actually an effort to keep himself afloat.

Damn, that villain really did a number on me. One more hit, and my goose would have been cooked.

The shift today had been long and hard, thanks to a tough group of villains that left him banged up and exhausted. He ended up having to get patched up at a hospital. The doc that ended up putting him back together tried to get him to stay, but he managed to talk him into agreeing on releasing him. Though, he would have flown the coupe either way. He couldn't stand hospitals or clinics. Not that there was anything wrong with those places. They just reminded him too much of the commission. Orderly. Sterile. Functional.

Which is nice for a hospital, not for life. He has almost 20 years of experience with it to make him an expert on that subject.

Shit got old quick….

Though honestly, it wasn't like his place was much better. It was a simple bed, one bath apartment. Top floor, of course, with a balcony that looked over the inconspicuous neighborhood it was built in. Now being the number two hero, you'd think he makes enough to live somewhere a bit more… well, expensive. But while he did live the high life, it was nice to have a place he could go and just be Keigo, not Hawks.

And speaking of, he could see his balcony coming into view.

He swooped down over the rallying, stumbling a bit in the landing. It was pitch black, and his eyes felt as heavy as his body. Thankfully, though, he didn't fallout then there. Camping wasn't his thing, and while the balcony was rather spacious, his bed sounded much more comfortable.

Ahh, home sweet home.

That's weird. Did I forget to lock the door again?

He shrugged, not giving it much thought. He'd been in a hurry this morning, getting called in for an emergency issue downtown. And it wasn't like the first time he'd forgotten to lock the door behind him. Plus, he lived on the top floor; it's not like he had to worry about people just walking in off the streets.

Lot easier targets than his humble abode.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Damn, it was hot. He must have forgotten to turn the AC on this morning. The apartment was hot and muggy, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. An oven sounded like a good place to take a nap at this point. His body started moving on its own towards the bedroom, stripping out of his hero costume along the way.

Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep.

His mind chanted over and over, clothes would be tomorrow's problem. He didn't even bother turning on any lights as he maneuvered through the living room and down the hallway. He'd lived there for over a year, so he knew the layout like the back of his hand.

By the time he made it to his bed, he was down to only his boxers. He was about to pull those down, too, but the moment his legs came in contact with the mattress, it was like whatever energy was left was drained out of him.

He sighed and let his body fall forward across the bed that would give him the sweet relief he so desperately needed.

Thump!

Huh? Why did his mattress feel all lumpy?

A loud shriek jolted him back to life long enough to realize that he was not alone. That the lumps in his bed weren't his covers, but a body.

There was a person in bed.

He shifted his weight, forcing himself up as the body under him started to trash and yell.

"Huh? What are you doing in my-" He managed to murmur out before a sharp pain to the side of his head finally did him in, and his mind gave in to the darkness of unconsciousness.

********

Your dreams were a God sent.

You were in a winter wonderland. Cool snowflakes danced all around. A cool breeze would blow every now again. It was like you could hear the clinking sound of ice hitting the window. Oh, what was that? The sound of heavy snow falling from the tree limbs? How wonderful!

So wonderful. So peaceful. So cool.

But everything changed when you were jolted awake by something pinning you to your bed. Whatever it was, was large, heavy, and sweaty.

You shrieked as you realized it was a person! There was a person on top of you! You trashed about trying to push the weight off of you, but you couldn't seem to get them off you. You screamed louder and struggled harder until their weight shifted.

"Huh?" The voice above you was drowsy sounding definitely that of an adult male. Your panic doubled as he shifted again, giving you a little more wiggle room. You still couldn't get free, but you took the opportunity to reach for something, anything to defend yourself with. Like hell, you were going down without a fight! Finally, you managed to wrap your fingers around something large on your bedside table. "What are you doing in my-?" You didn't let your attacker finish as you bashed the lamp into the side of his head.

He let out a loud 'off' as he rolled off the bed, giving you enough time to scrabble to the opposite side of the bedroom, hitting the lights.

Were those....wings?

Peaking over the side of the bed was, in fact, crimson feathers.

Who or what the fuck is that?

*******

Hawk's head pounded as he slowly stirred.

Shit, did he get drunk last night?

Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing from the light flooding the room along the memories of the night before. That's weird; he didn't remember turning on any lights.

Was it morning already?

He went to stretch his sore, aching body but quickly realized he couldn't.

He glanced down at himself and saw that yeap he was in his boxers and tied- wait.... were those power cord and... belts?

He blinked. What the hell? His upper body was bound in what looked to be a mix of various power cords and belts. Did someone break into his place and attack him?

Who in their right mind would break into his house? He was a hero! One of the top in the country!

He sighed as he tested the 'ropes.' Well, if this was a robbery, it was poorly planned, to put it mildly. The assailant left his wings completely free, and the binding was so poorly tied that he could slip right, with little effort.

A squeak of a floorboard caused his head to jerk up and glare at his attacker. A person carefully stepped into his view. And well, of all the things he'd been prepared for... you weren't it. And certainly not you, in nothing but your underwear, a tank top, and wielding a lamp like it was a baseball bat.

Well... this is... unexpected.

He could only stare at you in confusion that years of training couldn't even stop. Huh? You didn't look like a villain, much less a burglar. Honestly, you didn't look like a fighter at all.

If you weren't a villain, then...

He mentally groaned.

Great. You were a fan... and a crazy one at that.

Over his career, he's had a few run-ins with crazy or obsessed fans of his. He couldn't count the number of times he's had to change his phone number or move his safe house. Even with the commission on his side, his info still got out!

Maybe they should start hiring them instead...

Well... at least you were easy on the eyes. He thought as he gave you a once over. Your hair was a mess, and was that a bit of drool on your chin?

Yeap, just another crazy yet fairly active fan.

"Hey there." He greeted you with a warm smile, causing you to jump. He needed to play this out some. Escaping wouldn't be a problem, and he already had a few feathers at the ready in case you tried something. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. As irritated as he was at you, he didn't want to hurt you. You weren't a villain, just... confused. "It's not every day, I wake up to beauty like you. How about you untie me so I can introduce myself properly."

He gave you a charming smile as he watched your face go from nervous to confused and then to anger.

"L-Like, hell, I'm telling you my name after what you did!" You took a step forward and raise your weapon up slightly higher, ready to strike. "And don't flirt with me, you creep!"

Hmm, that usually works.

"My bad. I didn't mean to offend you. If you untie me, I'm sure I can figure out a few ways to make up for it." He winked, keeping his smile friendly and inviting. He needed to figure a way out of this that didn’t involve him hurting you or land him on every news station in the country.

*****

"You're seriously fucked up in the head, you know that! I am not untying you!" You yelled as a blush slowly crept over your cheeks. You were shocked at the stones this guy had! He broke into your home and attacked you while you were asleep. And now he was flirting with you?! Like this, a date or something!

Something in his eyes flashes for a split second, and you saw one of his wings twitch.

Why did he keep looking at you like that?

"D-Don't try anything! The police are on their way!" At least you hoped they were. You hadn't been able to call them, cause stupid you forgot to put your phone to charge when you got home. It was completely dead. You could only hope one of your neighbors who stayed had neared the commotion and called for help.

"Police?" His golden bird-like eyes went wide for a moment. Did he really think you wouldn't call for help?

"Yes, the police! You broke into my home and attacked me in my sleep! What did you just expect me to call for a parade?!"

"Wait…" You could see the gears turning in his head as he glanced around your room. His eyes suddenly went wide.

"So… you're not one of my fans?"

"Fan? WHY THE HELL WOULD I BE A FAN OF A PSYCHO LIKE YOU!?!"

"Wait! This is just a misunderstanding!"

"How the hell is breaking into someone's home, attacking them in their bed in the middle of the night a 'misunderstanding'?"

"Look, all I remember is flying home. Walking through my…" The man trailed off. "Wait, what address is this?"

"Like I'd give my address to a villain?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"I'm already here like it's really going to make a difference?" He growled before giving you a glare. You watched as his wings poofed up a bit. "Also, watch the insults. I'm a hero, not a villain."

"Likely story." You deadpanned. "You could at least come up with something more believable than that..."

"W-wait... You don't recognize me?" You gave him a once over. "Take a really good look at me." His wings stretched out a bit. "Anything thing ring a bell?" You just stared at him blankly. Granted, he was good looking, and if he wasn't a criminal, he could easily be on the cover of a magazine. "Seriously?"

"Pretty convenient of you to pick the home of someone who doesn't follow heroes, huh?"

"More like, inconvenient. If you did, you'd recognize me in a heartbeat." He sighed. "Look, just check my pants pocket. You'll find my credentials."

"How do I know this isn't just a trick? Or maybe they're fake."

"It's not a trick! Look, if you're that worried, just get your phone and google me. I'm the wing hero: Hawks." Huh? Why would he suggest that? He wouldn't know about your phone... so why would he tell you to get it? You could call for help. That should be the last thing he wants. You pondered for a moment.

****

"Fine, I'll check. But this better not be a trick," You paused. "cause if it is, I got another lamp with your name on it!" He watched as you gradually made your way towards his discarded clothes. While you searched for his wallet, he glanced over to the shattered remains of what he assumed was your first weapon.

Well, that explains the small blood trail on the side of his head and his headache.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you found it. You made your way back to him as he watches you juggle, keeping your on him, holding the lamp, and reading his ID.

"Hero license, Hero: Hawks, Name: Takami Keigo." You mumbled as your eyes darted between the ID's picture and himself. He could still see the doubt in your eyes. Damn, if this didn't work, he was going to have to free himself. Hopefully, he'd be quick enough to do that and subdue you without hurting you much. "Wait… Takami… Keigo.." Your eyes went wide, and he had to admit, his name sounded a little too good coming from you. "Wait! That's the name on the mail that keeps getting put in my box!" A look of realization and shock washes over you. "You're my neighbor!"

"Ah, so you're the one that's been slipping my mail under my door!" He couldn't help but smile and sigh internally. Finally, somethings going right! " Nice to finally meet you! Sorry I haven't had a chance to introduce myself before now. Work keeps me pretty busy."

"You're a hero… and you're my neighbor…." Your eyes were wide as you stared at him.

"Looks that way."

"THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BREAK INTO MY HOME!"

"It was an accident! I swear! I was exhausted and just flew to the wrong balcony. Honest. The glass door was open, and I didn't even realize I was in the wrong place." He tried to reason with you.

"Didn't you think it was a little strange that the furniture wasn't yours, or how about the fact that I was IN the bed?"

"Like I said, I was exhausted." He just shrugged before mumbling. "And well, let's just say you wouldn't be the first time a fan found where I lived and tried to surprise me in bed."

".... so you thought I was some psycho who broke into your home just to try and sleep with you…" You glared at him, clearly annoyed. "You realize I'm still holding a weapon right now, and remember..." You gestured with the lamp. "I gotta pretty mean swing..."

"Easy there, Chickadee. I'm joking. And I wouldn't call you psycho just... A little touched in the head." That earned him a glare that made him chuckle. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"You like pissing people off, don't you?"

"I've been known to ruffle some feathers from time to time."

"Look," You sighed as you tried to process everything that just happened. "This is just... too much..." You sat the lamp down finally. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"No worries. This one on me." He made a move to stand.

"Oh, here, let me..."

"All good, I got it." He stood up, letting the restraints fall off of him like they weren't even there, let alone tied.

"H-how did y-you?"

"Oh, yeah. Word of advice, ya might wanna work on knots." He chuckled as he stretched.

"Y-You could have gotten free at any time… why didn't you?"

"Like I said, I'm a hero." He walked forward while you moved to the side, eyes still wide-eyed." If I'd freed myself before you realized who I was, you would have freaked out. Honestly, the last thing I want is for you to get hurt or you to go screaming down the hallway in your underwear." He informed you as your face turned beet red, and you then tried to pull your shirt down. He laughed at the poor attempt to hide. "Well then, gotta say this would make a hell of a story, but I'd really appreciate it if we kept this between us." He could help but tease you more. You looked so damn cute when you're flustered. "Not to brag or anything, but I'm a pretty well-known hero and have a reputation to uphold." He sent out a few of his feathers to help gather his gear while he talked to you. You were so entranced watching his feathers work that he had to repeat himself again.

"I-I-I… Yes!" Your eye finally snapped back into focus on him. "Of course! Just between us!"

"Great! Glad that's settled." He took a step towards you and held out his hand. You finally got the message and handed his wallet back to him. "My superiors and PR would have my tail feathers if this got out." He ginned. "Well, would you look at the time!" He grinned while making his way to the sliding glass door and out to the balcony, his floating clothes trailing behind him. "Best be on my way. I have an early shift in the morning. Sweet dream angle." And with that, he stepped out to the balcony and fluttered over to his.

Damn, what a night!

*****

Extra:

The next morning.

You woke up late, groggy and sweaty. The AC was still out, and your apartment was slowly heating up.

With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself out of bed, put on shorts, and headed to the kitchen.

Last night was a hell of a night.

Your neighbor is a hero...

What are the odds of that?

You reached up into your cabinet and pulled down your favorite cereal.

Whatever, he can't be that good if he made that big of a mistake, right?

You quickly made your breakfast and headed for your balcony. There was a slight breeze blowing that morning, making it almost bearable outside.

Almost...

Huh? What's that?

There was a large brown bag sitting on your patio table.

That wasn't there before...

You sat your bowl down and picked it up. Whatever it was, it was a decent size and heavy. You opened the bag, and the first thing you found was a note.

'Sorry again about last night. Here's a little gift for you to make up for it.

Bet you could do some real damage with this one. Batter up, chickadee!

Your neighbor,

-Hawks'

You reached further into the bag and pulled out... a lamp?

It was made out of wood and metal, making the damn thing large and pretty heavy. It was well made and couldn't have been cheap! You pulled it further out of the back, and when you saw the shape of the body, you couldn't help it: you busted out laughing. The damn thing was in the shape of a roaster!

Your neighbor... is a hero... and a strange one at that...

********

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

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purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH15

This section has a lot of moving parts, and a few surprises in store for our resident mean girls ;)

Previous First Next AO3

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Chapter 15: Irresistible

Marinette stared across the street with a pensive frown, arms crossed, fingers tapping. She couldn’t bring herself to do it last night, partially because she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Even now, she still didn’t believe it was real, but as Gabrielle served coffee and sweets to patrons in broad daylight, there was no mistaking it.

Gabrielle had a job.

None of it made sense. Why was someone like her working at a café? Was it punishment? Did her parents want her to get the sense of what the “commoners” had to put up with to keep her humble? HA! As if. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Rich heiress works relatable day job. Rich people were always trying to seem relatable.

Marinette pursed her lips, equally as confused as she was when her old classmates believed every word out of Lila’s mouth. Something else was going on. Gabrielle wore a polite smile for customers, but it didn’t touch her eyes. She looked… tired. It was the same look on every businessman’s face when they came into the bakery before work—exhaustion from the persistent grind of a monotonous routine. Whatever the reason was, Gabrielle had been there a while.

Mustering up her courage, Marinette took a deep breath and cautiously approached the café. She slipped through the front door, peering around at the other patrons, though Gabrielle was nowhere in sight. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? No, she’d definitely seen her. She was probably in the back. Should Marinette wait? What was she even going to say?

“Can I help you?” a stern-looking man behind the counter asked.

Marinette jumped. “Uh, I was just looking for someone…”

“If you’re not ordering, then get out.” He looked every bit as capable of throwing her out if necessary. Marinette understood why Gabrielle looked so exhausted with a manager this mean.

“I-I’ll have a coffee, please. Two creams, one sugar.” She dug out the correct amount of change and dumped it into his hand.

The man grunted in response before turning over his shoulder. “One up!”

Marinette flicked her gaze to the back door, but it remained shut. The manager sighed, stalking to the back with his hands on his hips.

“I’m just gonna go sit…” Marinette gestured to a table with her thumb.

A few moments later the door opened, and a tall girl slinked over to the coffee machine. Her hair was tucked inside of her cap, pulled low over her face. Marinette craned her neck to watch, but Gabrielle turned her back purposefully to hide her face. When the drink was finished, she placed it on the front counter and attempted to retreat to the back, but the manager cleared his throat, pointing to the table where Marinette sat. She let out a sigh before retrieving the drink from the counter and walking it over herself.

“One coffee.” She set it on the table with more force than necessary and turned over her shoulder quickly. “Enjoy.”

“Wait.” Marinette held out a hand. “Can I get an extra packet of sugar?”

Gabrielle’s shoulders stiffened, hands clenching into fists. She pointed to the supply stand across the room before retreating to the back, mumbling to her manager that she was going to take her break.

It seemed as though she wouldn’t be resurfacing any time soon, so Marinette pulled out her sketchbook and headphones, occasionally sipping her drink. She wasn’t going to let Gabrielle get away without explaining herself, especially after what happened last week. There was more to her than met the eye, and Marinette was going to get to the bottom of it. Gabrielle knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, so it was only a matter of time before she fessed up.

After a while, a green apron appeared at her table, and a perfectly manicured hand refilled her cup from the kettle.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

Murderous green eyes glared through Marinette, but she sipped her coffee calmly.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Gabrielle’s grip tightened on the handle, and Marinette had no doubt that it was taking all of her willpower to remain professional, lest she incur the wrath of her surly manager.

“Fine. You caught me. I… work here.” She cringed at the word as if it were painful to say. “Congrats, you want a picture so you can show everyone at school?”

“No.” Marinette shook her head. “I want to know why.”

“None of your business.” Gabrielle snapped. Marinette shrugged, taking a sip of her drink while Gabrielle tapped her foot contemplatively. “Fine, but not out here.”

Marinette yelped when Gabrielle pulled her up, scrambling to grab her things as she was dragged to the back. Kicking open the door to the small employee bathroom, Gabrielle shoved her inside and pulled the door shut behind them. She covered her face, taking a few deep breaths before lowering her hands to glare at Marinette.

“I work here because my family is bankrupt.” She choked on the word, covering her mouth. “My dad’s an idiot, and now his businesses are failing, investors are pulling out. Three generations of wealth is drying up. They told the manager I was 16, so I can help pay for school.”

Marinette’s eyebrows raised in shock, and she gaped in silence as Gabrielle took deep breaths. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the summer.” Gabrielle leaned against the sink. “And I’m probably going to die here one day. Once news gets out, we’re going to be the laughingstock of the town. No one in their right mind will hire me to do anything worthwhile. I’m gonna be stuck serving coffee to poor people forever.”

Marinette almost pointed out that Gabrielle was one of those “poor people” now, but it didn’t seem like the time. Besides, she stood between Marinette and the exit, so goading her wasn’t in Marinette’s best interest if she hoped to get out of there alive.

Even still, seeing how broken and miserable Gabrielle was… Marinette couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Just because she picked on everyone at school didn’t mean Marinette wished the worst for her. She couldn’t imagine having everything ripped away from her and being forced to work a job she hated. For the first time since moving to her new school, Marinette was the most fortunate one in the room.

Reaching out a reluctant hand, Marinette attempted to touch her shoulder, but Gabrielle shook her off. “I don’t need your pity!” she growled. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re just gonna go run and tell your little do-gooder squad and spread it around school.”

“I won’t,” Marinette promised, and when Gabrielle glared again, she added, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Why? I more than deserve it after how I’ve treated you and your stupid little friends,” she said.

“It’s not my secret to tell.” Marinette shrugged.

“Wow, you really are stupid.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, the hints of a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, I guess. I really don’t deserve that from you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Gabrielle pursed her lips before reaching out to pat Marinette’s shoulder awkwardly. She averted her gaze and turned to the door, though her hand hesitated on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I come from a very messed up world, and up until a few months ago, I thought that it would always be my world. It’s been hard.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “Ya know, sometimes when I see people like you, I wish it were me. I wish I knew how to be nice.” She opened the door and stalked out, leaving Marinette alone in stunned silence.

“Whoa,” Marinette said. “I thought she was being punished by her parents, but bankrupt.”

“That explains why she backed down so easily whenever you challenged her,” Tikki piped up from her bag.

“I guess it is true when they say that you don’t really know someone.” Marinette winced.

“Maybe you can become her friend and teach her how to be nice. That way she can make new friends in the future,” Tikki suggested, but Marinette let out a mocking laugh.

“Oh no, I got my answer, so I’m going to forget this ever happened. I think it’s what Gabrielle wants. Besides, it’s not my job to go around fixing every broken person I come across. Look how well that went with Lila,” Marinette said pointedly.

“I think you’re wrong about what Gabrielle wants, and while it might not be your job, I think you can’t help yourself,” Tikki said.

“Of course I can. Watch.” Marinette gently pushed her back down with one finger before strutting out of the bathroom and all the way out the front door, though her bravado was short-lived when another familiar set of green eyes flashed her a taunting grin.

Lila.

Marinette froze in her tracks, heart taking off into a sprint. A range of emotions bubbled in her core—anger, fear, sorrow, regret. It had been over a month since Marinette left, and despite her best efforts to move on from her old life, Lila could dig up all of her past hurt with one sinister smile.

She sat at an outside table, patiently sipping her drink. Her posture was relaxed, purposeful, and a bit too smug for Marinette’s liking. This was no coincidence. Lila had been waiting.

“Marinette, it’s good to see you,” she said with a sugary sweet lilt.

“That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying some coffee.” She lifted her cup as proof. “Now, did I stop here because I saw you walk in? Well, that’s debatable.”

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lila said innocently. “I was just taking a break from a long day with my best friends. They all just love me, especially Alya.”

“Good for you,” Marinette said. She brushed past her, but Lila wasn’t finished.

“Even Adrien has been paying attention to me lately. He’s like a strand of pasta, you know? He thinks he’s so tough when in reality he breaks so easily,” she cooed. “If you put a little heat on him, he’ll bend to your will in minutes.”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, hands clenching into fists. “Adrien knows you’re a liar,” she said. “If you push him, he’ll tell everyone the truth.”

“Maybe, but no one else will believe him if he tries to out me. I think he realizes that. It won’t be long before he gives up and conforms. He really can’t stand to lose all of his friends like you did.” She leaned against her fist with a smirk. “It won’t be long before I take him from you too, Marinette.”

Marinette spun around, angry tears welling in her eyes and a sharp retort on her lips, but Gabrielle appeared to refill Lila’s cup. She surveyed Marinette’s tortured expression before trailing the coffee stream across the table into Lila’s lap.

“Hey, watch it!” Lila shrieked, jumping up.

“Oops!” Gabrielle pressed a hand to her lips as Lila wiped at her romper. “Sorry I’m a little clumsy. I’m still training.”

“Ugh, you’re lucky this time, Marinette, but don’t think that this is over!” Lila growled. She grabbed her bag and stalked off.

Marinette and Gabrielle stood together in silence before one of them inevitably cracked, and they both threw their heads back with laughter.

“Thank you,” Marinette said. “That was… nice of you.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t get any ideas. That was for your discretion,” she said.

She turned her head, but not in time to hide her flushed cheeks. Marinette hated to admit it, but Tikki was right. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

♪♫♪ Turn Off the Lights ♪♫♪

“Have you thought about what I asked last time?” Adrien asked.

Chloe chewed her sushi slowly, purposefully leaving him in anticipation. He really hated how sadistic she was, especially when it wasted his time. Consorting with Chloe made his skin crawl, but after Marinette called to tell him about her encounter that afternoon, he couldn’t wait any longer. If he knew anything about Chloe, it was that she’d do anything for expensive sushi.

“You really have fallen down quite the rabbit hole, Adrikins,” she said, sounding impressed. “First you threaten to blackmail me if I don’t help you, now you’re bribing me. I always knew I’d rub off on you eventually.”

“Look, this isn’t about petty revenge or whatever you normally do,” he said. “Lila is dangerous, and she needs to be stopped.”

“I seem to recall a time when I asked for your help, and you didn’t come through for me.” Chloe examined another piece of sushi thoughtfully. “If it were anyone else in the world, I’d have laughed in their face when they asked for help. You’re lucky we’ve been friends since we were in diapers, Adrikins.”

“I know I messed up. I’m sorry.” He lowered his gaze. “I learned my lesson.”

“Good. With your silly little conscience out of the way, we can actually get some real work done,” Chloe said. “I do have a few ideas for you, but…”

“But what?”

Chloe leaned against her fist with a wicked grin. “I need to test your loyalty. If you’re going to lie down with the dogs, you can’t be afraid to get dirty, so I need to know you’re capable of breaking the rules.”

A chill prickled his spine, and Adrien shifted in his seat. “What kind of rules?”

“See? This is why I have trust issues, Adrikins.”

He sighed, squaring his shoulders and facing her head-on. “Okay, fine. I’m in.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped for her butler, then pulled Adrien to his feet. “Your father thinks you’re helping me with my science homework tonight, but you and I both know Sabrina has already done it. I threatened my way into a party uptown, and you’re coming with me.”

“But-”

“Ah, ah!” Chloe held up a finger. “Prove to me you have what it takes. Break the rules.”

Adrien’s stomach churned as Chloe dragged him down to her waiting limo. When he’d come to her for help, he anticipated having to push his conscience aside to get what he wanted. To make a deal with the devil, he had to be willing to sell his soul, and sneaking out to a party across town was page one of their contract. It would all be worth it in the end. For Marinette’s happiness, he’d sell his soul a thousand times. He was already clutching the pen—Chloe just needed to show him where to sign.

♪♫♪ Pretty Places ♪♫♪

“Marinette! There’s someone here to see you!” Her mother called up the stairs that evening.

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed. Who would visit at this hour? She wasn’t expecting anyone. Adrien had piano practice. Macy had vocal lessons. Eliott and Martin were having some “guy time” whatever that meant. All of her friends were previously engaged, so who was waiting for her downstairs?

She set aside her knitting and slowly made her way to the living room. Whoever she expected to find didn’t compare at all to the tall red-head standing in the doorway.

“Gabrielle?” Her jaw dropped. “What are-”

“Is your room up here?” She pointed, quirking a perfectly-plucked brow. When Marinette nodded, Gabrielle took her wrist and dragged her back up the stairs.

“What-” Marinette gaped as Gabrielle shut the trap door and dusted her hands. “What is happening?”

“Get dressed.” Gabrielle ordered, but when Marinette remained frozen, she rolled her eyes and added, “We’re going to a party. Get dressed.”

“We’re what?” Marinette asked as Gabrielle threw her closet open and began digging through the rack.

“The son of one of my dad’s golfing buddies is throwing a party at their mansion tonight, and we’re going,” Gabrielle said. She sifted through hangers until she found a shirt and tossed it at Marinette. “Put that on.”

“Wh-”

“Do you know how to put on a shirt? Or does your mom dress you every morning?” Gabrielle looked her up and down.

“I know how to put on a shirt,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. “I’m just confused. Are we friends now or-?”

“Gross, no.” Gabrielle wrinkled her nose and moved over to the dresser as Marinette turned her back to change.

“So, if we’re not friends, then what are we?” she asked as Gabrielle examined a pair of black jeans.

She lowered them, a thoughtful expression on her face before she shrugged and tossed them at Marinette too. “I can’t party with my old crew without risking them finding out my secret, but you on the other hand are stupid enough not to tell anyone despite how delicious it would be to watch my world crumble after I was so mean to you,” she explained while rummaging through Marinette’s shoes. “So, I’m settling for you tonight.”

“Thanks?” Marinette tilted her head to the side. “I think.”

“Where’s your makeup?” Gabrielle asked. When Marinette retrieved a small pouch from her vanity, Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed. “Ugh, this is all you have?”

“I don’t wear a lot of makeup,” Marinette said defensively.

“If I weren’t broke, I’d buy you a proper makeup collection, but we’ll work with what we have for now.” She tucked it under her arm. “Come on. We’ll do your makeup in the car.”

“We- wait!” Marinette called as Gabrielle descended the stairs.

“Hi, sweetie, is this one of your new friends?” her mom asked as Marinette scrambled after Gabrielle. They exchanged glances, and Gabrielle gave her a stern look.

“Uh, yeah. She’s one of my classmates,” Marinette said.

“Gabrielle Burton, it’s nice to meet you, madame,” she said in the politest tone Marinette had ever heard from her. “We’re meeting up with a group of friends to see a movie. Do you mind if I steal her for the evening? My driver will bring her home afterward.”

“Of course, you girls go have fun,” her mom said.

Gabrielle didn’t wait for Marinette to respond before taking her wrist.

“Uh, bye, mom!” Marinette called over her shoulder.

Marinette blinked a few times as Gabrielle shoved her into the back of a town car, and the driver headed uptown. Gabrielle turned her chin with one finger, shaking the foundation bottle in the other hand.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered. When Marinette hesitated, she added, “Relax, I’m not going to make you look ugly. I’d never be seen arriving with someone who looks like a wannabe beauty guru.”

Marinette pursed her lips but relented, allowing Gabrielle to make her over on the drive. Several times Gabrielle grumbled about her limited options, stating several expensive products that would have worked better. Nevertheless, she attained some level of satisfaction because she instructed Marinette to open her eyes and look in the mirror.

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyebrows raised. Her makeup never looked half this good when she did it herself—a skilled hand made all the difference. She peeked up at Gabrielle applying her own lip gloss and pursed her lips. “So, what kind of party is this?”

“Relax, goody-two-shoes, the most exciting thing at this party is wine. My parents don’t let me go to trashy parties.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, removing her large trench coat to reveal a sparkly black dress with mesh cutouts along the waist. “Just try not to act too lowbrow, okay? Don’t embarrass me.”

“I’ll do my best?” Marinette said as they pulled up to the front steps.

“Great.” Gabrielle tossed her compact into her purse and kicked open the door. “Oh, and just because we’re arriving together does not mean you are allowed to socialize with me here. Don’t hang off me like a sad little koala. Go dance and have fun with other people.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we’re friends,” Marinette said.

“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.”

Marinette took in the towering mansion with wide eyes, twirling around in the foyer to catch all of the detail work. She’d been hanging out with her new friends for almost a month, but she still wasn’t quite used to such luxurious mansions.

“Cut it out! You act like you’ve never seen crown molding before,” Gabrielle hissed. She closed Marinette’s jaw with her finger. “Just be normal.”

“Yes, because this is so normal.” Marinette gestured to the marble statue fountain in the middle of the foyer, and Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

“It is for these people. Now get away from me.” She spun Marinette around and pushed her toward the sitting room where various groups of people were chatting over hor d’oeurves before retreating to the living room dancefloor.

Marinette stumbled several feet, bumping into someone’s back and falling onto her butt.

“Sorry!” She rubbed her head, but the warm green eyes staring down at her held no contempt. “Adrien?”

#mdcsp #mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #my writing #cats ocs

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artreider · 3 years

Text

Let's try to get this final live blog on my station 19 rewatch done. I'm currently laid up on my couch in mild pain but unable to do anything else.

I don't really like flashback episodes but i want one for the premiere since we are jumping so far ahead. I hate that this episode starts with a fight. But damn knowing what the fight is over, i love how loyal andy is to maya in this episode. Something ive wanted for her and the team. Qnd also jaina looks gorgeous.

The fire scene yay another fire on the fire show lmao. Feel like we missed some last year which im sure was covid related.

The marina scene ugh chefs kiss. I love how happy and giddy they are. I do wish we couldve gotten to see some of their month apart communication and their quarantining apart those two weeks when carina got back. I wrote a little something related to that and i may share before the premiere of season 5.

The quiet moment between carina saying her morning was better than those 6 weeks and then asking about mayas folks was a beautiful and real moment and i love it. So brief it could be overlooked but great choice for team.

The little bit of danielle and stefania that was them and adlibbed in this episode was so great also.

I love that rhey addressed how everyone was able to attend maskless and how safe the wedding was keeping the real world element in. Also vic love you and your chicken dance comment makes me sad that we didnt get it.

Vics parents trying to talk to her about theo is so cute.

Poor lawyer she'd be good for dean.

I understand some people dont come out until late in life but that is hard to hear that you havent loved the person youve been with for decades like you do this new person. That would hurt me so much to hear, like i couldve been with someone who is my great love if youd told me sooner. I love/hate this storyline for travis family.

Ugh if this fire had gone on any longer those poor kids and elderly couple.

Haha andy you should wait until someone answers the door for you when visiting almost newlyweds or people who've been seperated for 6 weeks lmao.

Also maya's excuse and none wet (shower) sex hair i love it.

Ugh sullivan trying to defend himself makes me so upset.

Bailey giving ben hell about second and third opinions is funny, like i figure shed be all for it.

Inara and marcus leaving jack is sad. I hope we still get to see marsha in season 5. Also if they do pair jack and jo itd be a bit ironic. I mean jo too had an abusive ex like inara.

Also jack and his marsha have similar eyes, itd be something if it came out she really was his mom.

I dont understand how maya hadnt settled on what to wear she's queen of the clipboard lmao. Just goes to show how some things throw us off course. Also i totally get her saying her outfit choice will define her forever. I judge my look in my wedding photos all the time and feel like other people do as well.

Why do i feel like this exchange between maya and carina was mostly adlibbed? It just feels so fun.

This poor family and ugh i couldnt imagine having to make the tough calls of firefighters/fire captains.

Love that all the fire crew helped put the wedding on.

I understand travis emotion here.

How'd this conversation about maya's folks get started with andy???

I love that maya and andy's friendship is restored. Also famous last words maya, dont speak the bad juju into existence.

Dean you shouldve spoken up there.

Why the chief there? I live in a city and the chief aint showing up for a house call that needs a few units. At least not until fire is out of they for some reason cant get it out.

Lmao maya freaking out about wearing the same thing as carina. Andy therapizing maya is funny.

That poor boy.

The dad comments to ben are beautiful. Also love that so many of the team know how dean feels about vic.

So why is travis getting dressed separately than the rest of his team. I mean i know its because he doesnt know about Dean's feelings and pushes vic to give theo a chance as well as allow theo and travis to talk but come on. He wouldnt get ready separately.

Also what was the point of theo going to that room if not to get ready. Sorry just annoying.

I wish carina had had someone mention andrew to her. Whether ben, bailey, maya or even any of the fire team who worked on the call with him during the crossover awhile back. Her grief during this day of happiness should've been acknowledged, even with just a remembrance table for him amd other family she lost to covid.

I do love this beautiful moment with vic though saying this isnt all just for maya.

Oh my how i love the maya confronting her father. She is the brave i want to be. Also what she says to her mom, yes chefs kiss. However when her mom shows up at the wedding, really the woman couldnt grab a nice shirt or dress to wear on her way out or on her way to the wedding.

I also love the look of pride on maya's moms face both at the house and the wedding.

Im sad we probably wont get any moments of her living with marina due to the time jump.

Ugh the choice that cost maya her promotion but ahouldnt have.

Also with all maya's options for clothes, couldnt they had dressed her mama in something borrowed from maya. Lol im sorry it bothers me so.

Vic's song for the intro is beautiful. Barrett has a beautiful voice.

Maya is so happy her mom is there and i love it. Also in my head at least one person videoing is doing it for the greys family who couldnt make it to the wedding for carina.

I also love maya singing along with vic to carina.

Queen of the clipboard forgetting to write her vows is special and funny. I love carina talking her down from a panic attack. Also her simple vow is beautiful and how carina who probably did write her vows saying we're good instead of reading them after seeing maya's mom in attendance and the look shared is everything.

I truly believe that was the moment she 100% knew maya had changed from end of season 3, was definitely all the way in. She knew what it meant for maya's mom to be there.

Love the dance montage and improved marina kiss.

Another healing theo and travis talk.

Sullivan just cant let it go and ugh trying to justify it. I just cant, still not over it. Even if he isnt captain in season 5 it still isnt right.

Sullivan you cant say you have the teams back then saying you can control them and throwing maya under the bus. Those are contradictory.

This jack and andy conversation is interesting.

This marina conversation is funny but sad when you know the end of the episode.

Its so funny that so few people know about Miller's feelings at this point.

It'll be interesting to see the travis, vic and theo in season 5.

Ben and bailey are so cute.

Wish we couldve had conversations at the wedding with maya and her mom or carina and maya's mom or the 3 of them.

Inara is so wise. I hate this for all 4 of them.

Gotta love the ole grab em and pull em back to kiss them and let them know how you really feel tremmett moment.

Too late dean, they tried to tell you.

I love marina dancing in the background ugh sullivan and the surrera rehashing.

Time for the horrible news ugh.

Everyone just looking at marina and knowing is horrible.

Great season, great episode and im looking forward to whats next.

Thank you to everyone thats been following my rewatch blogging, and for all the kind comments. I appreciate it so much, made the summer so fun.

#station 19 #marina #maya bishop #carina deluca #maya and carina #maya x carina #andy herrera #robert sullivan #dean miller #ben warren #jack gibson #inara #victoria hughes #travis montgomery #maya and carina station 19 #carina x maya #miranda bailey #theo ruiz #emmett dixon

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Cupid

MASTERLIST

This was requested by @sundippedprincess I’m pretty sure! Oh man, don’t we all love some daddy Spencer? I couldn’t resist writing this cute little fluff piece. Hope it’s a good start to all of you guys’ Mondays. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 4,773

For as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a teacher.

Apparently, after coming home from your first day in kindergarten, you had announced to your parents that you wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Twenty years later, you were living your dream.

Your kindergarten kids were your whole life. You always loved seeing them, watching them grow and learn. You typically dreaded summer vacation because you missed your kids and teaching so much, despite the few months of break.

This was only your second year of teaching, but you were enjoying it just as much as your first. It was tough saying goodbye to the first group of students, but it made it worth it when you saw them in the school halls and some still ran up to greet you.

School had just let out for another day and you already missed the bright young minds of your students. You were cleaning up your classroom before working on some grading when you heard a small voice coming from your doorway.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned and saw a little girl with light brown curls and a turquoise blue backpack standing in your doorway, looking hesitant. She was one of your best behaved students, Ayla Reid.

“Ayla! Did you forget something?”

She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with the movement.

“My daddy is late and they told me at the office to come stay with you instead of waiting outside by myself. Is that okay?”

She was the sweetest little girl. She was a bright little girl as well, having no trouble with soaking up new knowledge like her brain was a tiny sponge. She was always kind and helpful when it came to other classmates, but she never hesitated to speak her mind. All in all, she was an outgoing, bubbly little girl with a heart of gold.

“Of course, sweetie. Come on in.”

You took the chair to her desk off the top of it, setting it back on the floor so she could sit in her usual place.

You peeked over your shoulder as you headed to your arts and crafts station to see her settling in to her normal desk. You grabbed some paper and crayons and walked back to her with them in hand.

“Would you like to color while you wait?”

She nodded, smiling big.

“I love to color!”

You laughed, knowing that all too well. It was one of her favorite activities when doing schoolwork.

“Is your daddy always late when picking you up?” you asked, sitting back down behind your desk.

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s just a few minutes, but he’s never been this late,” she answered.

She’d already opened the box of crayons and was starting to draw before you’d even asked your question.

You glanced at the clock in your room to see it was nearing 3:15. School let out at 2:30–Ayla’s father was nearly an hour late.

“This doesn’t happen all the time,” she said, “‘Cause sometimes my mommy picks me up.”

You understood that. Plenty of your students had parents who worked full time and was occasionally late to pick them up.

She said nothing else as she was busy with her picture, so you started sorting through the turned in work for the week so far. You would have to log in grades and update the grades later on so it was just easier to get through this first step now.

“My daddy works a lot,” Ayla said out of the blue.

You looked up, smiling, seeing her still hard at work with her crayons.

“What does he do?” you asked, interested.

“He’s a pwofiler. I’m not quite sure what that means but he works in the FBI. That’s like the police but more important.”

You chuckled. She wasn’t one to miss much. When you’d said she was incredibly smart, you hadn’t been exaggerating.

“That sounds like a very interesting job. I’m sure you’re incredibly proud of him, Ayla,” you said.

“Mhm,” she nodded big, looking up from her picture, “He’s very smart too. He’s got a robotic memory!”

You raised a brow, not quite sure what she meant, but laughed anyway.

“Is that so? That’s impressive.”

“He a docta. But not like the ones you go to when you’re sick.”

She went back to the picture and you watched her for a moment, amused. There was so much energy and spunk in this little girl. You wouldn’t doubt for one minute that her parents had their hands full with her.

“Can I show you my picture?” she asked.

“Of course, let me see.”

You stood up, walking over to her desk, crouching to her level.

On it, there were several stick figures.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” you grinned, “Are these your friends?”

“No, these my aunties and uncles at the BAU. That’s where my daddy works.”

“I see,” you said, listening intently.

“This my daddy,” she pointed to the tallest of the group.

“This is auntie Emily, auntie JJ, auntie Penelope and auntie Tara.”

She smiled proudly as pointed at the obvious female stick figures.

“And what about these three?” you asked, motioning to a group of men.

“That is uncle Luke, uncle Dave and uncle Matt. The two on that side are uncle Hotch and uncle Derek. They don’t work with my daddy anymore but they still my uncles.”

“Wow, you’ve got a lot of extended family, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she beamed.

“Ayla, honey, I’m so sorry.”

You stood up from where you were crouching next to Ayla to see a quite tall man walking into your classroom, a tan, leather satchel slung over his body.

“Daddy!” Ayla squealed, jumping out of her seat, running towards him.

She collided into his legs, hugging him and he picked her up with a big smile on his face, kissing her cheek.

You took the moment to get a better look at him, now that he was closer.

He was undeniably attractive, but didn’t seem to be the type that flaunted his looks either. His light brown hair was as curly as his daughter’s and looked to be in a bit of disarray, part of it falling over his forehead while other curls fell in numerous directions.

He was outfitted in a work suit, a tie and sweater underneath his suit jacket. He pulled it off very well.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at his daughter and she kissed his stubbled cheek. You didn’t fail to notice his sharp jawline or his easy, bright smile either.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he apologized, whether to Ayla or you, you weren’t entirely sure.

“It’s okay daddy. I like Miss Y/L/N. She’s pretty like a princess.”

You sucked in a breath in surprise, touched by her words. You couldn’t help when your eyes immediately teared up. It was such a sweet and sincere thing for Ayla to say and knowing kids were brutally honest, you knew she meant every word of it.

You cleared your throat, composing yourself when you noticed Ayla’s father watching you, eyes squinting in concentration.

He probably thinks you’re a blubbering fool, you thought.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Reid,” you extended your hand.

“It’s docta Reid,” Ayla corrected you, emphatically.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. Dr. Reid.”

He chuckled, setting Ayla back down and telling her to get her things together.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, shaking your hand.

You tried not to focus on the fact his hand was so large in yours as you quickly pulled back, silencing any further thoughts.

“I told Miss Y/L/N how you’re a pwofiler and have a robotic memory!” Ayla exclaimed, as she cleaned up her desk, putting her picture in her backpack.

“Uh, it’s actually eidetic,” he said, flushing a bit.

“I couldn’t remember what it was called so I just went with robotic,” Ayla shrugged.

You both chuckled at her response, before turning back to each other.

“I was wondering how smart you must be to have a robotic memory,” you smiled.

“Well she was kinda close,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair, “Eidetic is just another term for photographic memory.”

“Oh wow,” you said, surprised, “That’s impressive. No wonder you have such a brilliant daughter.”

He smiled appreciatively and said his thanks before speaking again.

“I don’t remember seeing you at the Kindergarten registration a few months ago.”

“Oh, unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend as I was sick. My teacher’s assistant Mrs. Lamb stepped in for me. Apparently she was a big hit though because she got all the kids to believe she was from Old MacDonald's Farm!”

You cringed inwardly at your spiel. You were used to talking to five year olds and other teachers, definitely not attractive dads, let alone men in general.

You chided yourself again. He was probably married anyway and you had little business drooling over a student’s father.

His smile was on full display though as he laughed at your statement.

“Come on Ayla, we need to get going. I have to head back to work for a little while but you can hang out with auntie Penelope okay?”

“Okay!” she grinned, putting on her backpack and taking his hand.

They were just leaving when something made you stop them.

“Um, Dr. Reid?”

He paused, turning back to you.

“Yes?”

“If you ever find yourself running late to pick Ayla up, I’d be happy to let her stay in my classroom until you get here.”

You’re not sure why you offered. Well for one, you really did like Ayla, she was such a sweet girl. But you tried to convince yourself that it was just a nice gesture to hopefully make things a bit easier on him. You knew sometimes your parents struggled with finding someone to pick up their child from school on time.

It wasn’t because you hoped to see him again. Definitely not.

“Oh you don’t have to. I can try to get away earlier when possible,” he protested.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured, “I’d love the company. Besides, she’s such a joy to have.”

He seemed to take a moment to think it over before nodding.

“I just may take you up on that.”

•

“Daddy, what does pwofiling mean?”

Spencer had just lifted Ayla into the car and placed her into her booster seat, where she was currently buckling the seatbelt to it.

“Well,” he paused, intrigued at what could have brought on her sudden question, “It’s just studying a person’s behavior. For example, I can recognize how you behave guiltily when you eat the last cookie in the cookie jar.”

Ayla grinned big, not in the least bit ashamed.

“But you do that with bad guys right?”

“That’s correct, baby,” he smiled, kissing her forehead.

He closed the back door and walked around to the driver’s side door, sliding in. He had just gotten his own seatbelt clicked into place when she spoke again.

“Daddy, I pwofiled you.”

“Did you now?” he chuckled, amused at his little girl’s comment.

“Yes,” she nodded, “You like Miss Y/L/N.”

“Well of course I do, she’s your teacher and she’s very nice.”

“No, I mean you like like her,” she emphasized.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Because you’re smiling all goofy,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You only smile like that when you talk about things you know about.”

He felt himself flush a little bit. It was true, he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d left Ayla’s classroom. There was something refreshing about her teacher and he would have to be blind to not admit she was indeed as Ayla had said, very pretty.

“Are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?” Ayla asked as he drove out of the school parking lot.

He chuckled at her brazenness.

“Honey, I don’t even know her. Besides, I’m too busy to date.”

“I’m busy too but I have a boyfriend.”

“You do?” Spencer asked, trying his best to hide his surprise.

“Of course, daddy,” she rolled her eyes, exasperated, like she was a teenager already, “I’m busy and don’t always get to see Michael but he my boyfriend.”

Spencer smiled to himself. Michael LaMontagne was his best friend JJ’s and her husband Will’s youngest son. He was a little over two years older than Ayla, but she always proclaimed that Michael was her boyfriend. The two got along extremely well and it was incredibly adorable.

He decided not to comment any further on it though because he knew she wouldn’t give up on it easily.

“Baby, you know what days daddy picks you up, right?”

“Yup. Mondays and Fridays.”

“Good. Since I never know when I might be running late, will you ask Miss Y/L/N if you could stay with her until I get there?

“Okay daddy.”

She turned to the window, watching the passing landscape, her previous conversation apparently finished.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ayla’s teacher again.

•

Ayla rushed out of the elevator when the doors opened on the floor the BAU was located on.

“There’s my favorite girl!”

Penelope has been waiting for them, excited to spend time with her goddaughter. As she was her only goddaughter, Ayla definitely got a bit spoiled.

“Auntie Penelope!” Ayla squealed, running into Garcia’s arms.

“How was your day at school, pumpkin?” she asked.

“Good,” Ayla beamed.

“Must’ve been, your daddy is 15 minutes late getting back,” Garcia said, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Uh, traffic,” Spencer said.

“No,” Ayla shook her head, looking up at Spencer, “You were busy smiling at Miss Y/L/N.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Garcia questioned, her interest piqued.

“She’s my teacher,” Ayla explained, “And she’s really pretty, auntie Penelope. Like a princess!”

“Like a princess, huh?”

Garcia was now eyeing Spencer hardcore with a knowing grin. Spencer knew she would be all over this with a million questions before long.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go hang out with auntie Penelope now while daddy finishes up his work?”

“Alright. Come on auntie Penelope! I wanna show you the picture I drew!”

Ayla grabbed her hand, practically dragging Garcia towards her lair.

Garcia looked over her shoulder pointing a finger at him.

“Don’t think you’ve escaped my questions! We’re talking about this later!”

Spencer knew good and well they would be.

“So, a pretty kindergarten teacher, huh?”

Spencer startled, seeing Luke standing in the doorway of the BAU, his back against the glass door, holding it open. In his hand was a plastic cup of coffee that he was drinking. He’d obviously been here longer than Spencer had realized and had heard everything.

“Don’t you start too,” he grumbled.

“Hey, I’m just curious!” Luke protested, following Spencer in as he walked into the unit, “How pretty is she?”

“Very,” Spencer mumbled to himself.

Getting her out of his head would be the best thing to do, although maybe not the easiest.

•

It was the third time that you were keeping Ayla in your classroom after school until Dr. Reid could pick her up.

You found yourself counting down the hours every Monday and Friday, waiting to see his bright and smiling face.

You couldn’t believe you were looking forward to a maybe five minute encounter out of your entire day, but here you were.

“Miss Y/L/N?” you heard Ayla call from her desk.

“Yes?”

You looked up from the learning packets you were stapling together for the new week.

“Is it okay if I feed Freddy?”

Freddy was the class pet, a neon tetra fish. He was a simple fish, one that was easy for new fish owners, from what you’d researched before getting him.

He was small, but feisty. His coloring really took you by surprise when you first got him. With colors of bright red and green, red towards the end of his body and a lime green towards his front with a turquoise blue duochrome look to him, he always looked festive and bright.

He had an automatic fish feeder, but every once in a while you let one of your students throw a small amount in for him as an extra treat.

“Of course,” you smiled, getting up to help her.

You walked over to the fish tank and grabbed the fish food, opening it for her.

“Now, just get a tiny little pinch, okay?”

She nodded and did what she was told, her face serious as she concentrated on what she was doing.

Stepping up on the stool you left in front of the tank—for the small kids purposes—she sprinkled the food into the water. Freddy immediately devoured it.

“I think he liked it,” she smiled, watching him through the glass.

“I think he did too,” you agreed.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You turned, seeing Dr. Reid walk in, a smile on his face.

Your stomach fluttered, seeing him again for the first time in days.

“I fed Freddy, daddy!” Ayla grinned big, running to give him a hug.

“Did you now? That’s a very big girl task! I’m proud of you! High five!”

He was crouched in front of her, hugging her but then he pulled out of her embrace and held up his hand, which she high fived.

“It’s time to get your things kiddo, we’re having your favorite for dinner tonight,” he said.

“Chicken nuggets with sweet potato fries?”

“You guessed it! Now go,” he shooed her towards her desk.

You smiled, watching them. He stood back up, facing you with a small smile.

“I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

“Not at all. She’s an angel. She’s probably one of my best behaved students,” you said.

“Now that’s surprising,” he chuckled.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Ayla called, coming back over with her backpack on her back, “You should come to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I-” you began, in attempt to politely turn her down, when Dr. Reid spoke before you.

“Bunny, you’re going to be at your mom’s tomorrow night,” he said.

Ayla’s reply was simple and to the point.

“I know.”

You felt your eyes widen and your face heat when you realized her insinuation. Dr. Reid looked just as flustered and thrown as you felt.

“Ayla, honey, you know daddy has to work tomorrow. Remember I told you I had to work late?” Spencer stammered, trying to say the entirety of the few sentences.

At that point, you just wished for a hole to open up in your classroom floor and swallow you. If it wasn’t awkward enough that one of your students had basically just asked you out for her own father, then it was definitely the fact that he was trying to backpedal on the “invite” and most likely because he had no interest in you, not that you could blame him.

“Daddy, you told me it’s wrong to tell a lie,” Ayla gave him a look.

You were sure at this point Dr. Reid had turned scarlet from his face all the way down his neck. You felt bad for him, but still felt the awkwardness of the situation.

“You said that when I was at mommy’s house last week. You said this week you wouldn’t have to work late.”

Somehow, this behavior from Ayla didn’t surprise you in the slightest. When she was set on something, she was determined to accomplish it.

He looked up at you, clearly uncomfortable but you spoke before he could, trying to salvage the situation.

“Don’t worry,” you chuckled, “Kids will be kids. Believe me, I know. I have 28 of them for 8 hours, 5 days a week.”

His smile eased a bit and you felt yourself relax a tiny amount.

“I hope you have a good weekend Ayla and I’ll see you Monday,” you said.

You couldn’t help but notice her pouty expression as Dr. Reid took her hand and left your classroom.

You almost had to breathe a sigh of relief after living through that awkward moment.

You had just sat down behind your desk and resumed stapling papers together when you heard your name being called.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You glanced up, seeing Dr. Reid in the doorway sans Ayla.

“Yes? Did Ayla forget something?”

You stood, ready to head towards her desk to check for a missing folder or a favorite toy.

“Actually, no, I did.”

You gave him a confused look before he began to explain.

“I was- uh I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to get coffee sometime? With me? Or maybe ice cream or something considering it’s still pretty hot? Hot outside I mean.”

Your stomach quite literally did a flip flop at his cute, nervous, rambling.

Here was a grown man, who worked in the FBI, had a child and could probably rival a Bachelor contestant, yet he managed to adorably stumble over his words as he asked you out.

“Well, I practically live off coffee because of my job,” you said.

“So do I,” he grinned, a small, new found connection between the two of you, discovered.

“But ice cream sounds nice,” you smiled, “Whenever you’re free that is.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow sounds fine,” you concluded, “Hold on.”

You turned to grab a sticky note from your desk, jotting something down quickly.

“My number,” you smiled, handing it to him, “Just let me know what time.”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirmed.

“Oh and for future reference, I’m Spencer.”

“Y/N,” you grinned.

With a smile on his own face, he walked back out of your classroom, presumably to an awaiting Ayla.

You had to hold back your laughter when you heard her next statement all the way from the hallway, clear as day.

“I think I know now why uncle Morgan used to say you got no game.”

•

It was roughly 2 pm the next afternoon as you stood outside the ice cream parlor that was near the elementary school.

You fidgeted in place nervously, wondering if he was going to show.

His actual asking you on a date was so sudden and abrupt, you’d hardly had time to wrap your head around it.

With one glance down at your outfit, you tried hard not to criticize yourself. You’d changed about six times before finally deciding on a simple, cute, sleeveless sundress in an aqua turquoise color. It would be cool, cute, casual and not trying too hard.

“You look nice and cool.”

You turned to see Spencer approaching you and you smiled, relieved that he actually showed up and it wasn’t just a dream.

“Hot enough for you?” you chuckled.

“Too hot,” he agreed, “Shall we?”

He motioned after him and you walked into the wonderful chilly air of the ice cream parlor. He even held the door open for you; this man was already amazing.

There was only polite small talk while you both ordered; mint chocolate chip in a cone for him, vanilla in a cup with numerous toppings for you.

“Vanilla?” he raised an eyebrow at your choice.

“Only if I’m in the mood for a lot of toppings,” you elaborated.

You’d ordered your ice cream with Oreo pieces, rainbow sprinkles and chopped nuts.

When you both retrieved your orders from the counter, he peeked over at yours.

“There any ice cream under there?” he teased.

“Hush,” you chuckled.

You found a shaded table outside to sit at. Despite the heat, a small breeze occasionally cooled the temperature, making it a bit more bearable.

“So, Y/N.”

“That’s my name,” you smiled.

It was amazing how up until this point, you’d been so nervous for this date, but sitting in front of him, you were much more comfortable.

He took another lick from his cone, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Why teaching?”

You raised a brow, figuring you’d get in a question of your own too.

“Why the FBI?” you inquired.

He chuckled, appreciating your challenge.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” he said.

“Well—as the story goes, my parents claim—I came home from my first day of Kindergarten claiming I was going to be a teacher, specifically a kindergarten teacher. I don’t remember this at all,” you laughed, “But apparently it was kismet.”

He watched you intently as you talked, eating his ice cream silently as he hung on to your every word. It was surprising at how nice it made you feel to know he was interested in knowing about you.

“I joined the FBI when I was 22.”

“Wow, that’s really young and impressive,” you said, eyes wide.

“Well to preface this, I was somewhat of a childhood prodigy. I graduated high school at 12 and managed to earn three PhDs by 20, plus two BAs.”

You stared at him open mouthed, your spoon halfway to your mouth, the ice cream on it melting and dripping back into the cup.

He looked embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable. Something told you that while he was proud of his achievements, he wasn’t one that really enjoyed bragging about them.

“That explains the title of Doctor and the robotic memory.”

That seemed to break the spell and his face broke into a grin as he laughed easily at his daughter’s antics.

“That child, I swear. She’s something else.”

“She really is,” you agreed.

There was a lull in conversation and you decided to ask him about what you were wondering from the previous afternoon.

“So...you and your wife are separated or divorced I assume?”

“Oh me and Ayla’s mom have never been together actually.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to deal with divorced, separated or even single parents of your students, but to actually know the circumstances like this was unusual for you.

He nodded.

“I wasn’t in a place for a relationship and neither was her mother, so all we ever had was a physical relationship and Ayla was the result of that. We remained friends and co-parent now. She’s got a lovely fiancé now though that’s great with Ayla. But as messed up and impractical as that relationship was, I wouldn’t change it for anything though because it gave me Ayla and I’ve never regretted her for a moment,” Spencer said.

“She clearly adores you,” you smiled, “You’re a great father too.”

“Thank you,” he smiled shyly, “I try my best. But what about you, anyone special?”

He winced the moment the question left his mouth.

“Well if there was, I wouldn’t be here now would I?”

You could help but tease him, flashing him a joking expression.

“Point taken,” he laughed inwardly, “It didn’t dawn on me how obvious the question was until I said it. I’m sorry, I’m not really good at this dating thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve done it, actually.”

He looked pained, like a teenager on his first date, but you found it extremely endearing.

“Well I think you’re doing just fine,” you reassured him, “Also, no.”

His brow crinkled in confusion.

“No, what?”

“No, there’s no one special in my life. Unless you count 28 five year olds,” you snickered.

Sometime during the conversation, you’d both finished your ice cream. You tossed your trash and returned to the table.

“I’ve got a few hours before I have to pick up Ayla. Would you like to take a walk?” Spencer asked.

“Sure,” you agreed.

The two of you walked side by side, chatting it up about a variety of different things until his tinkering chuckle made you glance up at him, curious to what he found so funny.

“What is it?”

“It just struck me funny,” he said, pausing to look down at you.

You stopped with him, waiting for him to continue.

“Who would’ve thought my five year old daughter could be such an adorable yet successful pint sized Cupid?”

You had to agree as your face broke into your hundredth smile of that afternoon. She had been persistent and it seemed like her persistency had paid off.

He was right though, you’d never in a million years imagined one of your pupils playing matchmaker for you.

But you were glad Ayla had.

How thankful you were to have her in your class.

“She was right, you know,” Spencer said, more serious now.

“About what?”

“You are as pretty as a princess.”

As you two resumed your walking, the smile now permanently plastered on your face, you could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush yours ever so slightly.

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#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid gif #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid gif #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds gif #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years

Text

70 Fred Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers:

(plus an extra one, for the heck of it lmao)

You guys, thank you so much for 700 followers! I appreciate every single one of you and writing for the twins has been such a blast so far, much to the thanks of all of you <3

Find the 70 George Headcanons: Here

Fred has always been really good at sleight of hand stuff, as a kid, he could do card tricks with ease, steal baked goods from his mother’s kitchen and later on since his allowance wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, he’d steal sweets from honeydukes' on Hogsmeade trips, with the help of George, he’s not proud of it but in his defence, he was a stupid teenage boy at the time.

Fred is incredibly competitive and will hold onto anything you challenge him to for way longer than you might think. He’s definitely the type to “race you” anytime you’re headed to herbology, care against magical creatures or Hogsmeade together.

As the man himself said in the deathly hallows, Fred doesn’t like the idea of a big grandiose wedding ceremony, he’d prefer something more low-key and simple, where the focus is more on having fun and celebrating instead of neat seating plans and meticulously chosen decorations. Some flowers and booze will do, he’ll provide the fireworks - In essence, he only needs his S/O and the rest he couldn’t care less about.

George may be better at cooking, but Fred makes a damn good pancake and he will forever pride himself on that.

Fred is the more jealous, overprotective twin. He’s aware of this and tries his best not to let it go to his head but he can’t help it.

Fred snores, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that both twins snore, but Fred is louder and, as mentioned in my last headcanon post, a very heavy sleeper meaning it’s more difficult to get him to wake up so he can stop, your best shot is trying (and probably failing) to turn him over.

Fred is also a very restless sleeper, he’ll toss and turn, and occasionally dream about quidditch. I’m saying you might want to be aware that he might confuse you for a bludger in his sleep, don’t worry though, he’ll always apologise profusely and make it up to you with a lot of kisses (and maybe a bit more than that, if you’re keen ;))

Fred has an extensive caffeine addiction, which is unfortunate cause he’s quite hyper already but he can’t function properly until he gets his coffee in the morning, and then again in between lessons/at lunch and then again late in the afternoon. Sometimes, if he needed to write an essay that was due, he’d drink coffee at like nine pm. He knows he won’t be able to sleep because of it, please, Y/n, he’s accepted his fate.

I personally always imagined the twins as having ADHD, idk why it just fits their characters. Fred is for sure the more outwardly fidgety and intrusive, this gets less and less with age, as it does for a lot of ADHD people, his inability to focus remains the same though.

Fred loves being outside, he’s the first of the Weasley siblings to suggest a game of quidditch or just going outside for walks, hide and seek in the woods near their house. He absolutely loves taking his dates on walks in parks or at the beach and when he has kids he plays with them in their yard, building snowmen etc.

Fred probably suggests at some point that the whole family should go camping, and he’s actually really fun to camp with. He’ll tell the best scary stories by the campfire.

In regards to children, Fred wants a lot of kids. Like at least three but would be willing to have more if his s/o wants to. He just really likes the dynamic of a large family since that’s what he’s used to.

Fred’s favourite flavour of sweets is anything sour, the sourer the better, because of this he can handle it really well and he loves handing people some of his ridiculously sour candy and watching them squirm.

He also really likes spicy food, he’s a bit of a daredevil so don’t challenge him to eat anything because he will eat a whole chilli and nearly die.

You know he’d be really casual about it too, lol, like sweating and crying but just leaning on the counter like “*pant* what? hot? no not at all *deeeeep breath* I can ha-aw-rdly taste it!”

One thing about Fred is that he’s oddly squeamish, like seeing his brother’s ear blown off isn’t so bad (if you don’t take into account the emotional trauma that is), but a needle for a blood sample or a vaccine? oooh, he’s gonna need a big juice box and a cookie and his s/o’s hand to hold if he’s gonna make it through. He also has a thing about leeches. One time at Hogwarts they were mentioned in a lesson and he thought he was going to faint the entire time.

Fred’s broken five bones over the years, four are from quidditch: his left arm and two ribs, and then the other arm from trying to do an elaborate stunt on the stairs in the burrow and falling down two flights.

Fred loves to sing karaoke (because I cannot get that damn clip of James singing karaoke out of my head) though he particularly enjoys doing a very poor job on purpose.

Fred is such a good liar that on several occasions he’s given presentations in school and gotten good marks for them despite having bullshat his way through the entire thing.

Like seriously, he’s that guy in the group project who only looks at the slides like five minutes before the presentation and then just turns on a full charming newscaster voice on the professor to the point of them being genuinely convinced (albeit a little confused) that what Fred’s saying is true.

This is also why Fred loves playing card games like poker: he’s really good at bluffing.

Speaking of poker-face, he’s really quite good at teasing in public (if you’re into that sort of thing *wink*) because no matter the dirty deeds he might get up to under a table, his face remains as regular as always (safe for a little smirk to his lover every now and then)

Fred always wanted to learn an instrument, he thought it’d make him cooler when he was a teenager, as an adult, he just really wants to recreate that clip of the trombone-playing dad with the sunglasses, or maybe serenade some cows with jazz or something.

Fred was never a big fan of the uniform thing, so he always tried to make it his own, whether that be tying the tie differently, or having his sleeves rolled up; it’s not much but you gotta take what you can get when you’re literally dressed the same as everyone else.

Fred might make fun of his dad’s interest in muggle things but secretly he loves it too. He has spent a lot of hours in the shed with Arthur, assuring everyone that it was just to have some quality time with his dad but he would still pay close attention when Arthur explained things to him.

Fred had a whole business of selling candy from Honeydukes’ and joke products from Zonko’s to second and first years before he and George started dabbling with their own products, he could get you a butterbeer too but it’ll cost you an extra three galleons.

Fred really likes glitter, George has a thing for lace, anything that glitters on his s/o makes Fred weak. If you want to get your way just put on some glittery eyeshadow or lipgloss and watch him spin.

Since he loves things that glitter and gleam he loves buying his s/o jewellery, he loves seeing them wearing them as little tokens of their relationship.

Did someone say slight possession kink? oops not me

Fred is incredible with numbers, this is pretty much canon and has been explored but I’m just amazed at this boy’s wit AND intellect. I have a slight headcanon that if he ever goes on a proper first date with someone where a bill is involved, he impresses his date by calculating the tip after just a glance.

Even if Fred has a longstanding reputation of not caring about school, when he has kids he does want to help them with any coursework over the summer and Christmas breaks, he’ll even study up on his old books just to be able to help out in any classes he didn’t take/didn’t pay attention in.

Fred would, in general, be an amazing father. He’s goofy and playful most of the time, though he’s serious and incredibly caring whenever his kids are in a bad mood or have problems. He knows that he’s not the most outwardly emotional of the twins but he makes sure his kids know they can always talk to him about anything.

Fred is incredibly messy. His room is usually a cry for help and he only cleans it when it gets to the point where it distracts him from focusing on work.

No worries though, his S/O doesn’t have to do all the housework for him, he’ll do it. He just needs to be reminded that he needs to every once in a while.

Fred has a really bad temper, he doesn’t know where he gets it from but he tends to get angry easier than George, though Fred is better at letting it out so it doesn’t continue to bother him.

His bad temper does mean that he used to brawl more with siblings as a kid, and it wasn’t unusual to see him with scrapes and bruises as a kid, much to Molly’s dismay. Fred didn’t mind though, he thought it made him look tough.

Fred is more likely to get caught sneaking around because of his brash nature, he tends to forget just how quiet you have to be to avoid Mrs Norris in the corridors.

Fred is certainly not an early bird but his favourite time of day is, in fact, the morning when the sun’s coming up. He only knows this because of Wood’s ridiculously early quidditch practices but there’s something about the way the world looks when it’s bathed in soft golden light that just hits different to Fred.

Fred is a great team player, as much as he seems like he’s more selfish than George, if it’s regarding a team activity (like quidditch or a battle of sorts) he’ll completely lose all focus on himself and only try to ensure other’s safety and victory. This is also why he plays as a beater, he’s not afraid of getting hit at all when he’s focused on getting the bludgers away from his teammates.

So if his s/o ever needs it, he’ll be there to help with anything: Needs to take a day off from work to take care of his sick s/o? no problem. Needs to stay up with his small child because his s/o is exhausted and needs rest? On it. Something as small as carrying groceries or books, making a cup of tea when the other is busy or doing the dishes is all on the list of things that Fred will happily do for his s/o, and often without having to be asked, he’ll just do it.

Fred’s boggart is seeing his family members and/or his s/o hurt beyond what he can save. Essentially his worst fear is being helpless when he needs it most.

One of those times was when George lost his ear. The first night when George was lying practically unconscious on the couch with blood everywhere was the worst night of Fred’s life, he truly felt so anxious and helpless and angry that he vomited and ended up passing out next to the couch after staying up till sunrise watching his brother like a hawk.

He didn’t just sleepwalk when he was younger, he also often experienced nightmares, it’s only George, Molly and Arthur who remembers anything about this.

They got less and less the older he got and he assumed that he’d never be bothered by them again until after the second wizarding war and the battle of Hogwarts.

I don’t like to headcanon that he dies cause he didn’t and that’s final lol. I do, however, headcanon that Fred still gets hurt, since everyone in the explosion beside him seemed to sustain minor injuries, I just think that to even out with George losing his ear, he hurts his leg and needs a lot of retraining/a walking stick. I think that’d be a more fair/unfair ending for Fred who’s always full of energy having to have to adjust to living slowly for a little while (not permanently, I couldn’t do that to my boy).

The boy has anxiety sometimes, ok. (just let me project for a second)

He didn’t know how much tension he usually holds in his body until he drank alcohol for the first time and felt his entire body loosen up and was like “huh this is new.”

He doesn’t use alcohol to deal with it though, he prefers just talking to George about whenever he feels is stressing him out and that helps. A massage from his s/o to loosen him up doesn’t hurt either.

Fred prefers to talk to his dad about his problems more than he prefers to talk to Molly, generally.

His favourite body parts on his s/o: Shoulders, hips, hands.

He loves to kiss, just in general, but he also loves kissing his s/o’s nose, forehead, neck, shoulder, etc. as little gestures of affection.

He def. has a bit of a size kink, he loves being taller than his s/o.

If Fred could have any pet he wanted, he’d probably want a dog, the bigger the better. He doesn’t think he has the time for a pet though.

It was his idea to start breeding pygmy puffs, it’s the closest he’ll get to having a pet.

I don’t know why but I feel like when Fred and his s/o are expecting and his s/o goes into labour he just panics. loses it, drops the binkie as we say in Denmark: Freaks the fuck out, if you will. He’s definitely the pacing and wringing his hands together type, though he probably tries his best to keep himself composed and chill during the whole thing whilst simultaneously hyperventilating.

Fred doesn’t cry often but he sure as hell wept with pride when he held all his kids for the first time.

Despite the notion that the twins often slip in a joke version of a sweet treat or something similar amongst the snacks at parties, Fred is strongly against tampering with drinks. He knows the connotations it holds and he doesn’t want anyone to be afraid they’d put something in it. If he wants you to test out their truth serum or a love potion, he’ll just ask you flat out and if you don’t want to, he’s not going to continue asking.

Most of the detentions Fred has gotten from Snape come from times he’s spoken back to him when Snape’s been giving another student a rough time. He doesn’t regret it one bit.

If you ask Fred what his proudest accomplishment is, he’ll probably say that it’s having had enough restraint to not punch Umbridge in the face every time he saw her.

On the note of Umbridge. It wasn’t her detentions with him that got his blood boiling, it was when she punished little kids (a la Nigel) for doing practically nothing, he understands that to an extent and by comparison, setting off a bunch of fireworks inside a building would harbour a harsher punishment, but making twelve-year-olds bleed for running in the halls or playing music or just doing things that twelve-year-olds will inevitably do, is something Fred doesn’t understand. That year pretty much any kid younger than him, or anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves, became Fred and George’s little siblings, and they’re very protective older brothers. Umbridge can vouch for that.

He struggles with a lot of insecurity in his relationships, he always puts on a front of being extra funny and outgoing when he’s in a new relationship because he’s secretly afraid that the way he is isn’t good enough and that eventually, his s/o will see through him and leave because they don’t like the softer, more serious side of him.

Fred is the godfather of all of George’s kids but is also the godparent of Hugo, Lily and Lucy.

Fred loves business meetings, he sees them as a good challenge to practice his smooth talk.

Fred spent his first salary from the shop on the most expensive bottle of champagne he could find and a new suit.

Fred tried to get into whiskey, feeling like it’d make him a cool business owner type of man, so, with his second salary, he went out and bought a fancy-schmancy bottle of whiskey and the whole getup with a bottle and some cool glasses, and then invited Lee over to try it with him and George.

They did not like it. Fred thought it tasted like what he imagined gasoline tastes like so they mostly used it as decorations, not having the heart to mix it with something.

Fred doesn’t necessarily like PDA, it depends on what you mean. He likes being secretive. Pulling his s/o into an empty classroom, nook, hallway, secret pathway etc where anyone could wander in at any time and snogging her senseless is one of his favourite things to do.

Fred knows how good he looks in his quidditch uniform and will absolutely use it against his s/o. (they’re gonna get spicy from here on so read with caution if you're in public)

Fred prefers giving more than receiving oral.

He has a lot of energy, did you not think that would rub off (no pun intended) on his sex drive? He can go pretty much any time and place, and typically last at least two rounds.

Also, his favourite position is having you on top. Okay, I'm gonna stop now.

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