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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

Roses and Romeo

Harry and Y/N come back to their hometown after eight years to open up a time capsule they buried ten years ago as high school sophomores.

Word count: 20,534

A/N: Hello beautiful friends, hope you’ve been well. I’m really excited to share this story. It is a former high school sweethearts to lovers. Thank you to @havethetimeofyourstyles Jill for creating timetravelathon and allowing me to participate. I am very sorry it’s later but I finished!!! I do hope you all love it.

Also this story is my baby, because i’ve never hit 20k before so this was new and exciting. I just had so many ideas for the story.

please come and tell me your favorite part!

_____

DECEMBER 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

It's December, and all that is on her mind is how the grass would look covered in snow. The cold breeze, an extra jacket to stay warm, a blanket to bundle up with her favorite person. Safe to say, she can only imagine it because California, specifically Southern California, isn't so keen on giving her this one gift she asks for each year.

A huge smile spreads over her face as soon as she sees her house up ahead.

It's not huge, but it is perfect for Y/N. She has the best memories growing up in a house full of love and laughter and the most gorgeous flowers. The iris and tulips bloomed extra bright this year. There is never a day her mom isn't fixing the garden. Her mother always makes sure she has fresh flowers in her room; right now, for the week, she has purple tulips. Also makes a lovely gift to take to her boyfriend. Harry always blushes when she brings him flowers.

It also gets her extra kisses.

Harry parks right outside but doesn't rush out to open her door like always, so she turns to look at him. He's tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; she patiently waits for him to speak up.

She'd wait all day if she could; he has a beautiful face, one that she will never get tired of gazing at. She especially loves that curl that flops down over his forehead; as much as he pushes it away, it bounces back as if he never moved it.

"It's Friday, love." Harry begins, "I think you should consider coming with me to a party."

She pouts. "No, I want to listen to that new record my dad found, and I also have lots to study. Big exam on Monday."

"You're always studying." He groans.

She frowns. "Not true! Calculus is my biggest enemy. Mr. Leanza is not easy on us."

"Okay, Miss 101%." He pokes her cheek.

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"I'm not going to go just for you to tease me."

Harry leans over and steals a kiss before she can dodge him. "Let's play a game." He sees her roll her eyes but asks her to hear him out.

She gestures for him to go on. "I go in and quiz you. Zero wrong out of all the flashcards you have in that bag of yours, and I get to take you with me. I already have parent permission. I'll have you know."

She narrows her eyes at him. Not ever surprised that her parents agreed, they trust Harry. He's given them no reason not to. She's about to tell him, no, but he gives her a big smile. His dimples are on full display, and she finds herself agreeing.

She mutters a small "okay."

Harry smiles, knowing how she likes to make him work for it, but he really enjoys finding new ways to win her over. He might have cheated, flashing her his dimples that he knows she can't resist, but he never said he played fair. "Only if I get to drive Nessie."

Nessie is Harry's classy white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230 SL. She was never interested in cars, but Harry speaks so fondly of his car that she has come to learn so much about it and loves it just as much as Harry and her father together taught her how to change a tire and check the oil on Nessie. They want to prepare her for anything, and she is thankful because Harry likes to test her from time to time.

Harry smirked, knowing how much she loves driving. She loves it but does not cave in letting her parents get her a car. Her parents have wanted to get her a car since she got her license at sixteen, but Y/N claims it is too much money to spend.

Her parents tell her they have saved enough for her and her education. It's like raising an only child. They remind Y/N all the time since her brother has graduated university and now lives in San Francisco as an engineer in a growing company.

Harry has been meeting discreetly behind her back with her parents on gifting her a car this Christmas. Although he fears that having a car will mean less of him driving her around. Meaning they will spend less time together and fewer backseat make-out sessions, but on an upside also means he'd have to help her christen it.

"Darling, you dating me for my car?"

"Yes, dearie. I started dating you back in our first year because you had Nessie, not because of those dimples and lame jokes.

"You told me you love them!" Harry gasps, offended.

"Tell you what you want to hear." She shrugs, getting out of the car.

"Hurting my feelings, love." Harry now stands in front of her taking her bag from her hand and closing the door behind her.

"Let's get inside." She pushes him to walk in quickly, knowing her parents aren't home yet and her mom isn't due for another thirty minutes, and she would really love to squeeze in a make-out session.

"Compliment me, then we can go in." Harry stands firm in front of her, a teasing glimmer in his emerald eyes.

She reaches up and places her hands on his cheek, planting a small kiss on his nose.

"You're a dreamboat, Styles." She whispers.

Harry can't help the blush that seems to be taking over his entire face.

She pecks his lips and skips around him. "Let's get studying, then you can help me pick my outfit for later."

Harry shakes himself out of the trance she always seems to leave him in. "God knows you need it

JUNE 1998 - SUMMER HOME

Y/N had always known she was a bit crazy but honestly, deciding on making a 44-hour road trip from Massachusetts to California, where her hometown of Aurora takes the cake.

Yes, she knows how unsafe it is to be a woman on the road alone, but she saved up for the trip and would be spending the entire summer home for the first time since graduating high school. A plus was that she knows the map really well, having studied it hard like one of her anatomy books. Also, helped that her father quizzed her on what roads and exits she would be taking.

She's a good driver; her father always told her everyone else is who she had to watch out for. Honestly, she thanked her family for pushing her to drive more, and now she loves being behind the wheel.

The road was never-ending, taking her where she wanted, and currently, she was aiming for home.

It's four hours until she reaches home, a home she has not lived in for over eight years. A place that holds her most precious memories as well as most heartbreaking.

She's driving with the window down, enjoying the breeze, knowing the heat will only get worse the closer to home. A car passes next to her; she looks over briefly, taking in the vehicle's blue color. It does look a bit old; as the driver accelerates their speed, she notices that it's a Mercedes-Benz but can't make the model seeing as the driver must be eager to reach their destination now speeding off. If she's honest, those types of cars remind her of one person, and that's how she knows she'll never escape because she finds meaning for them in anything and everything life has to offer.

The last few hours on the road pass relatively quickly because the next thing she knows, she's parking her Jeep Cherokee in what she used to call her parking. This car has spent nine years with her and runs like a dream. It was a gift from her parents, and at the time, she was nervous about the gesture but really grew to love it. It also came in handy, seeing as she now lives far from home and visits as much as she can. She hopes to make more trips up now that she has residency but knows it will be harder to get holidays off.

Her parents understand; they do. She's following her dreams and achieving each one, and that is all they could ever ask for.

Y/N gets out and gets her suitcase; it has her essentials and anything she's missing; she can come out later to get it, well her father will most likely fight her and do it on his own.

Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open. Her mother doesn't give her any time to react and simply wraps her in a hug. A tight one full of love and happiness, an embrace she will never get tired of.

"Hi, momma," Y/N murmurs, not at all ready to let go.

"Hello, my sweet girl. It's good to have you home."

"It's good being here. Feel younger already."

"Ah, same here. Come inside; I have lemonade served up and muffins because they are your favorite."

Y/N smiles, knowing how much her mother made sure to have her well-fed always. No matter what she told her, she wanted her with meat on her bones. This also meant anyone who she brought home was given a big meal as well. Telling everyone and anyone they were too thin then proceeding to provide them with a second serving. This was her mother's way of getting into people's hearts through their stomachs.

Y/N walked into the kitchen and smiled at how nothing had changed. Hanging on the refrigerator were her three graduation photos: high school at seventeen, ready to take the world by storm, at twenty-one graduating with the highest honor from Columbia University, and the last was graduating Harvard Medical school this past spring. She knew the next to join would be a photo of her on the first day of her residency.

"Your father refuses to take any down; when your brother comes into town, he complains. Your dad shuts him up by telling him to go be a doctor, and then they could talk."

It warms Y/N's heart that her parents are proud of all the accomplishments she has made. It's been a tough road, but nothing stops her until she accomplishes her goals, and starting her residency is the next stop.

"Like dad's office is covered full of his accomplishments since entering that job in San Francisco." She jokes, transitioning the conversation away from herself.

"The oldest child always seems to be the most jealous." Her mother reminds her.

After eating a muffin or two, her mom sends her off on a walk, not wanting her to be cooped up in the house on her first day back. She has always loved walking around. It's something she did when her friends weren't able to offer her a ride. Also, her parents would walk her to the park every weekend growing up to run around in the grass and ruin more clothes with grass stains.

It's no surprise that she arrives at the entrance of the town's park. It looks like there is no one around until she really enters and finds a family seated on a picnic planet as their youngest tries feeding their oldest strawberries. It's a sweet sight.

She keeps going, not at all wanting to disturb; soon enough, she enters the part of the park no one really visits and finds the old park bench with lots of initials carved in the wood, hers included. It creaks as she sits on it; she smiles, knowing that it is something that has not changed.

There aren't many flowers in this corner, just a big willow tree offering her shade that she very much enjoys.

It's nice being home, she's missed it, but she has loved living in new places, making new friends and connections. She spent her first four years in New York, and she loved the environment. It was a university filled with thousands of people never seeing the same face twice in the halls. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere but not here, not at home. Everyone stops her for a conversation. They talk to her as if no time has happened, as if she was still the young girl who helped her mom tend the garden each weekend.

In a way, she always will be.

She wanted this time to explore and travel because she knows this where she'll come back one day to lay her roots. She and her future husband will marry here, maybe at the botanical garden with the beautiful flower arch all year round. It's where she sees her children growing up and running around as she once did. She's got her residency to finish up, but she's looking forward to when she can call Aurora home again.

After sitting for a while, she decides she will come back with a book or two next time. If she's going to be here all summer might as well start by doing some reading on books she has not gotten around to reading. Y/N is thinking about leaving when her eyes spot a couple coming down a hidden path, a small daisy behind the girl's ear, her arm tight around her boyfriend's arm. He's got the biggest smile on his face. They look so lost in each other, one can feel their love.

It reminds her of when she used to do that. When she did that with Harry before they broke up and never spoke again. It breaks her heart, but it also brings back some of the best memories. He'd always bring her here just so they could talk for hours so that she'd tell him more about the flowers and to kiss in private.

One of her favorite memories is when they were in their third year of high school, and he asked to meet for a surprise. She stands up and shakes the memory away, not wanting to get lost in her thoughts. It's harder to do now that she's home and she can see him everywhere she looks.

With that last thought brushed away, she decides to walk back home. She's got a few days to herself before meeting with everyone; there was the big reason she was back in town.

It was time to open a box of memories.

APRIL 1989 - JUNIOR YEAR

Harry is up to something.

She suspects something because he made her walk to the park when he would always be quick to offer her a ride. Sure, it's only a ten-minute walk from her house, but he always says something along the lines that not everyone is as kind as they seem.

It's April, and the flowers are in full bloom. She hears the birds singing, and she swears they sing of the beauty of the flowers. It's also bee season, meaning lots will be around the park, and as much as she loves them, Harry has a big fear of them. Y/N has mentioned various times that they don't mean to harm him; it can just happen. Especially if they get startled.

Y/N takes note of a new flower; it's a small white four-petaled flower that grows in fragrant clusters. They smell divine, but she knows she has never seen them. She really wishes she had her father's polaroid on her to take a photo and show her mother. Any other day she would turn back to do just that, but Harry is waiting on her.

She walks to the back of the park where Harry has claimed their spot, their initials carved in the bench make sure of that. He's standing next to the viola's, and they stand dull next to Harry.

"Hiya, angel." Harry greets hands hiding behind his back.

"Hello." She greets softly; Harry can easily note she's nervous. Any other time she would have given him the biggest hug, but right now is keeping an appropriate distance.

"Are you nervous?" He teases, which honestly calms her down because if he's teasing her, it surely means he doesn't want to break up so she can toss that idea right out.

The last few ideas left are that it's an important anniversary and she's forgotten, or he just wanted to be romantic.

She hopes it's the latter.

"Not so much anymore." She replies truthfully, stepping closer, desperately wanting to give him a hug. He looks warm in his knitted baby blue sweater; she knows it was a Christmas gift from his grandmother, his new favorite.

If he's not wearing his cardigan, he's wearing his varsity jacket, but it's at the dry cleaners because when it's not in his possession, it's in hers. She likes the heaviness of it, how small it makes her look. Harry is the perfect height, standing at what she thinks is 6'0, but she can't be too sure. His broad shoulders only seem to grow stronger each summer after returning from two weeks of football camp. At this point, she wears his varsity jacket more than he does. Sure, she can get an academic one she has more than enough patches to choose from, but it just isn't the same; besides, she rather spend her money on books and records.

Harry tells her his favorite thing about her wearing his jacket is that it has his last name. He knows marriage is long down the line, but he does hope to share the same last name one day.

It's his most prominent dream.

But currently, his big dream at the age of seventeen is asking the prettiest girl to prom.

Harry brings his hands forward to reveal a dozen lavender roses in his hand. Y/N gasps at their beauty, not at all expecting this. They are gorgeous, and she can't wait to show them off to her mom as soon as she gets home.

"My love," Harry starts closing the gap between them and bringing her left hand to his lips to place a soft kiss before setting it back down to rest close to his heart that is beating just for her. "Will you do me the honor of being my date to prom?"

She smiles wide, not at all expecting him to ask, let alone for it to be this romantic and intimate.

"Yes, of course." She wraps her arms around his neck, and Harry spins her around, letting out a small holler of excitement.

"The roses are beautiful; they must have cost you a pretty penny," Y/N tells him as soon as he sets her down so she can admire them again.

"Well, darling. You're worth every one. It also pays that your mom gets on well with the town's florist."

She giggles, nodding.

"Now, how about we walk over to my car and celebrate with a make-out." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her, knowing he needs very little to convince her.

"Harry!" She chastises, looking around to see if anyone heard, but the park is empty, not a soul in sight. "How about we take a stroll around the park, then we'll see afterward."

"You're a little tease, love." She leans in and pecks his lips two times. He tries for a third, but she hurries off.

"Come on, dove. We've got to see the rest of the flowers that are blooming." Y/N's voice is full of excitement at the chance of walking around the park for the next hour, hand in hand with her boyfriend.

Harry grins happily, following after her, he may be young, but he knows he will do whatever is in his power to always see her happy and smiling.

JUNE 1998 - HOME

"Dad!" She yells as soon as she walks in the door; she sees him stand quickly from his seat on the couch and embraces her in a big hug.

"My baby is home." He whispers.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

"How was work?"

"Awful, when I knew I had my two favorite girls at home waiting for me."

Y/N laughs. "Always a sap, dad."

Her mother makes her presence known. "This is a lovely sight. I've missed it."

"Yes, as have I." Her father gives her one last kiss to her head and lets her go.

"Any plans?" Her mother questions walking back from the kitchen, placing a cup of tea for Y/N on an old family coaster.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, as do both her parents wanting to carry on the conversation.

"I'm meeting Sarah and Sydney for breakfast one of these days, most likely going to spend the entire day together. Then, everyone else won't be coming around until the week after. Think it will be on Friday, seeing as that is what worked for everyone's schedule.

"Happy to see your friends." Her mom states, the wide smile on Y/N’s face confirming her statement.

"Yes, chatting isn't as easy as when we were in high school seeing each other that day. There are lots of emails sent back and forth between us."

"Glad you girls stayed closed. Was worried you would all drift away." She reaches forward to squeeze Y/N's knee.

Y/N knew she meant it about Harry. How no one thought anything would come between them that they would make it through university and settle down soon after. Oh, how wrong they all were. As much as they hoped for the best, they were each other's downfall.

"It's a bit late; I'm going to shower and head to bed instead."

"Before you go, can I say something?"

Y/N recognizes the gleam in her mother's eye and nods, knowing she has to get this off her chest.

"It's sadly a man's world out there, but you have managed to make it your own." She reaches forward and takes Y/N's hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss before settling it in her lap. Y/N smiles. "I know you long to love and share it with someone, and I want you to remember that the person for you is out there. As a mother, I know these things, and I wish you nothing but the greatest things in life, but they all come when we are ready for it."

Tears well up in Y/N's eyes, she nods. Not replying to her mother's words because she knows if she speaks, she will cry.

"Lorelai, you made her cry." He whispers, pulling both women into a squished hug.

"I've always had your father, and I hope you find that someone for yourself."

She pulls back and wipes her tears away. "Thank you." Y/N leaves her parents with a final hug.

She heads up the stairs to the room that holds all the memories she has kept locked away. In her home, there are no longer any photos of her friends or of him. Not like before, where they were spotted on every wall displayed for all to see. Her mother took them off after she left for university. It broke her mother's heart to see her suffer such a big heartbreak. Harry had become like another son to her parents, so they were all sharing the heartbreak. She missed everything about him, but it has been years since they last spoke.

It's been eight years since they last talked, last kissed but not the last she's thought of him. He's coming for the time capsule opening, and as much as she tries to convince herself she's going to be alright, she knows she's not. Yes, she's moved on. She has built a life without him in it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

All she can do is count the days until she leaves Aurora and goes back to the comfort of her apartment in Massachusetts.

____

It's been a week since she's been home, and she knows everyone will show up in two days. The friends she was sure she'd never lose touch with but slowly did with time no matter how each tried, but life moves on.

Y/N is nervous to see everyone. She's changed in the last eight years, but so has everyone else. She misses what they used to have in high school but honestly, getting to hear what everyone has been up to will be fun. Who knows, it might feel as if not time has passed at all?

She met up with Sarah and Sydney earlier for breakfast at the old dinner. The girls spent a good five minutes embraced in a hug before they took their seats. They ordered too much to eat but, to no surprise, finished it all by the end of their conversation.

The time together was spent mostly catching up and jumping from topic to topic. She did feel she was asked one too many questions about starting her residency and how they will be addressing her as a "doctor."

Y/N brought up Sarah's love life wanting to hear how they were doing. Sarah and Mitch did not start dating until after graduating high school, finding out they were going to the same university just an hour away from their hometown. Everyone was aware of Mitch's heart eyes for Sarah, but she was too focused on her internship, always wanting to do good. One can imagine how happy everyone was when news spread that Sarah asked Mitch out and was quick to say yes. Now eight years later, were happily moved in together. Sarah is a music engineer, and Mitch a music teacher at the local high school; as mellow as Mitch is, he gets on well with the teens.

Having focused on love and Sydney quickly saying nothing new was going on with her, just that she was more in love than she could have ever imagined, it was time to hound Y/N, it seems. They asked about her love life and how good-looking the boys in Massachusetts are.

Y/N told them how nonexistent her love life has been since she graduated high school. It's not something she ever made time for, and her friends understand as much as they hate that for her. Sydney did not stop herself from making a joke on what seems to be Y/N's long dry spell. She shrugged it off, not at all bothered. Y/N assured them she knows how to take care of her own needs until the right person comes along. They all knew who she hoped would be the right person, but they knew better than to bring him up.

Once again, there was a change of pace. Sarah surprised them with tickets to Spice Girls at a sold-out Madison Square Garden concert on July first. Six tickets, a perfect number for their friend group. It was perfect, honestly. Sarah figured they'd road trip up the last week of June and could stay in Y/N's shared apartment with her roommate, who would not be home yet. Then take a train up to New York for the show. Also, told them they'd have hotel rooms for the night already, having an idea there would be an after-party. Y/N was all for it as was Sydney.

Y/N has always loved concerts; it's something she saves for not bothered to spend some money to enjoy a great show for one of her favorite artists, especially in good company. The long queues were a downfall, but not everything is perfect. She has gone to concerts and knows that one can make the best experience out of floor seats and nosebleeds. Artists never fail to amaze.

It reminds her of the first concert she ever went to that Harry took her to their senior year. The ticket stub she has pinned next to a polaroid that a stranger offered to take for them. It was before the show, and they had matching grins. It's still one of her favorites, and the reason she doesn't take it down is too good of a memory to keep hidden away.

While seeing Sarah and Sydney was good and everything she hoped it would be, it did not prepare her to see the others. She had not talked to Zac in a long while, having no idea what he was up to. Mitch is quiet and only says hello when she has called with Sarah and Harry; well, it's like she doesn't exist to him. Not since their last day together.

Y/N has two days to prepare.

Two days to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to see Harry.

AUGUST 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

Many people told her to enjoy her high school years because they would fly by, and she accepted the advice and made memories to last a lifetime in the three years leading up to her senior year. Her friends and family have made each year memorial. Still, there is something about senior year, and knowing that it is their last year before university has her excited and anxious.

Harry repeatedly told her how he wanted it to be their best year yet and promised to do just that. She has no doubt in her mind he will accomplish that in whatever way. He's managed to do so year after year.

Harry made sure to pick her up each morning, never wanting her to worry about walking alone to school or arriving late. He made sure he knocked on her door every morning.

Depending on the time he showed up, he was ushered in for a homemade breakfast, or sometimes he said a quick hello before grabbing her hand and rushing out the door because they were running behind schedule, and Harry knew he could not make her arrive late.

One thing that was always constant was how he carried her bag to his car and opened her door. He made sure she was settled before reaching down for his morning kiss. Sometimes, he went as far as putting on her seatbelt, just wanting to be close to her.

Today was Monday, and he usually comes in, but today he selfishly told her to grab him a slice of toast because he was in a hurry. She didn't question him and sent her apologies. Her mom kissed her cheek and told her not to worry about it. A true angel, her mother was.

Harry slipped her bag over his shoulder before ushering her in. She felt a little flustered with his urgency but let him be. He stole a quick kiss before going to the driver's seat.

"What's got you in a rush today?" She asks, genuinely worried.

He smirks, looking over at her. He seems calm, not that they've driven away from her house. "Thought we could use the extra time for some kisses. You deprived me this Sunday." He pouts at her, waiting for the light to turn green.

"H, you know I have dinner with my grandparents one Sunday a month." She chastises him.

"I know, darling, doesn't mean I like it." He tells her. "Had to suffer a Sunday alone."

"Well, at least I know how I can make it up to you." She teases.

Arriving at school, Harry parks toward the back under a shady tree, one far away from everyone.

"Want to sit on my lap, baby?" He asks, spreading his thighs, and as much as she wants to, she shouldn't knowing very well what he can convince her to do when in his lap.

"Later, H." She promises.

"I'm holding you to that, angel." He unclips her seatbelt, quickly placing his lips on hers.

She feels how smooth his lips are and knows he stole her cherry lip balm again. "Harry, that's the third lip balm you've taken in two weeks." She pulls away, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip that he juts out. He gives her thumb a soft kiss.

"Swear I was going to put it back this time." He moves closer, placing a kiss on her neck, slowly trailing down, pushing his varsity jacket down her shoulder, exposing more of her neck. Her black corduroy pants and white acrylic sweater, and her favorite worn-out Mary Jane's mother have been begging her to change out. She likes to think it adds an extra flair to her outfit. "You drive me crazy when you wear my jacket," He whispers in her ear.

"Does that mean you're always going crazy?" She whispers back, knowing he mostly wears the jacket during game days.

"Always make me lose my mind."

After a fun half-hour of making out, Y/N pushes him back, knowing she has matching bruised lips. She loves that everyone can see what she did to him. She also may have sucked a little too hard on the skin right below his collar, the love bite just barely visible. She pulls down the sun visor, looking in the mirror to straighten out her hair, that Harry just loves digging his fingers into.

"Baby, what did you do?" Harry says, looking at the fresh mark just by his collar bone.

She smirks, knowing very well that Harry loves when she marks him. Not doing it very often in fear of getting caught by their parents.

"Got to remind those girls that stare at you who you belong to." She reapplies her lip balm before layering the new lip gloss her mom got for her the other day.

"You know I've only got eyes for you, love." He says, caressing her cheek softly.

His gentle tone of voice always makes her soft, but it also might be that his accent seems to stand out even more.

"I know, H." She leans in to give him one more kiss but pulls back quick enough to not let him deepen it.

"Sneaky, baby." He clicks his tongue at her, rushing out and rounding the car to open her door, offering her his hand.

She gladly accepts it, placing a kiss on both cheeks before landing on his lips.

"I love you, Styles." She whispers against his lips, eyes closed as she tries to catch her breath.

"And I love you, my darling angel." He softly nuzzles her nose, causing her to let out a small giggle.

"Let's get you to class." He says, throwing his arm over her shoulder pulling her in close.

Harry is smiling wide; she takes notice as she looks up. He looks extra giddy.

Too giddy, and it has nothing to do with their steamy make-out.

She narrows her eyes at him, "what's got you extra smiley?"

"Nothing, happy all the time."

"Nuh, uh. Styles. I know you. Fess up!" She stops walking, wanting him to answer her.

"It's because my girl marked me up today for all to see. Makes me feel special." He answers smoothly.

Y/N looks at him in suspicion, not buying a single word he's saying, "I'm onto you, Styles."

Harry lets out a deep breath before stepping close to her. "Let me surprise you, darling."

She instantly relaxes. "Okay, only because you know I like surprises."

"Thank you." He rests his forehead against her, happy to be in her space, forgetting all around him until he hears a shout of his name.

Moment over, it seems.

"Let's get you to English Literature," Harry murmurs, intertwining his hand with hers making sure she's close by as Sarah greets her.

_____

It's lunchtime when they walk hand in hand to the lunch tables where Mitch and Sarah sit, stalling their conversion to greet them. Before she can take a seat next to Sarah, Harry pulls her in his lap. He leans in close to her ear and whispers that he'll give her his chocolate chip cookies Anne had baked. She silently agrees, grabbing the bag Harry was offering her. What he didn't disclose is that his mum had sent them specifically for her. They have three empty seats, but she can see Zac and Sydney approaching, carrying food trays. Meaning, neither had lunch prepared for the day.

Y/N leans back against Harry getting comfortable, knowing that he wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. The chatter begins with how their weekend went and what this week's activities are. She knows she doesn't have much to do this week; her club meetings don't meet until next week. Harry has football practice all week, meaning she either visits the library or finds a ride home. She doesn't mind staying and watching his training, but Harry hates knowing she sits there alone for so long. He rather have her be home warm and cozy than on the cold bleachers.

Harry asks for her attention by placing a kiss on her neck, his tell sign that he's feeling left out.

"Yes, H," She whispers for only him to hear.

"Need your attention. Don't like sharing."

"You're extra needy this Monday, dove." Y/N has his hands in her lap as she begins to trace circles on his palm; it's something that soothes him instantly.

"I just want to know our plans this weekend." He kisses her cheek, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Rather you get parent permission early on than last-minute giving them a chance to say no."

Harry's right; there are occasions where her parents have said no, and Y/N finds herself sneaking out from her window that conveniently has an old tree that makes it all the easier.

Her parents trust them together, but if they really knew what happened behind locked doors, they would think otherwise.

"Do you want to go kiss a little?" He wants her to say yes.

"At your car or in the abandoned hallway?"

"What's quieter?"

"The hallway, and it's closer."

Harry nods, gently grabbing her waist and helping her stand. "We'll see you later," Harry says, interrupting their conversations.

"Oh, Styles, you've corrupted her." Zac teases very well, grasping what they were about to go do.

"Think she's corrupted me. Who knew angels could be so dangerous?" Harry teases in front of their friends.

Y/N feels her face warm, bidding them all a quiet goodbye. Harry, having rendered her a bit speechless. She swears she never knows what is going to come out of his mouth.

Harry all but drags her to the hallway. He gently pushes her back against the wall next to an older poster for the school play. Y/n glances down at his lips before looking into his eyes.

"Did you really bring me here to kiss, or are you spilling the surprise?" Her eyes are big and filled with hope.

"Sorry, baby. Really did want some kisses from you." He pulls her closer wanting no space in between them. "Really missed you. Can't believe we only have one class together."

"It's like they know you wouldn't pay attention to me in a class with you." She teases.

"Kissy." He pouts his lips, feeling like they've talked enough.

Who is she to deny him when he asks so sweetly.

Y/N always felt like time stopped when she kissed Harry. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her knees grew weak, and as if Harry knew, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her up. Harry pulls away slowly, a smile growing on his face. He would never tire of kissing her.

Harry leans in and nuzzles his head in the crook of her necks, slowly beginning to place kiss after kiss before he finds his favorite spot and begins to suck lightly, pulling a surprised moan from her.

She pushes him back. "No love bites that high. It will keep us locked up in the house all weekend supervised.

Harry tenses at the thought, knowing fully well her parents would do that, having done it before when they first started dating, and he thought more with the thing in his pants than his brain. "I guess I'll just have to bruise these pretty lips."

Never one to tell him no, a small nod is enough to make Harry lean in and take her breath away. He'd kiss her forever if he could, but the last fifteen minutes of lunch break would have to do for now.

_____

Monday's always drag on; she goes home, does homework, reads a book, and waits for dinner to be ready. Most days, she joins her mother in cooking; both like conversing about their days. More than ever, they have lots to talk about, from holiday plans to the universities she is applying for. She has saved up allowance allowing her to use it for more universities than the average three. If it was up to her, she'd send one to all the universities because that is how confident she is not only about her grades but how she comes off as a student on paper.

Dumping most of her books in her locker, she keeps Calculus in her bag, knowing the sooner that homework gets done, the less stress she'll have. Just as she shuts her locker, she hears footsteps approaching her.

"Is my girl ready to go?"

"She is."

Harry swings his arm over her shoulder, and they begin to walk out the school doors that are kept wide open. There are groups of students lingering talking to another, and in the distance can hear cars driving away eager to get away.

Y/N smiles at a girl who sends her a wave, recognizing her from her English course. Harry walks them under a tree, a reasonable distance away from everyone because, as she has come to know, he likes kissing her in private.

"Our first game is in two weeks." Harry reminds her.

"Yes, exciting."

"Will you be there, or is there a test to study for?" He teases.

She frowns and takes him by the lapels of his varsity jacket that she gave back to him at the end of lunch because she claimed it was losing his smell.

"Don't start, Harry. You know I've never missed a game, and I won't start now."

"Was only teasing, love."

"Didn't like it."

"Sorry, love. Forgive me? He pouts, wanting her to smile at him instead of frown.

"You know my price." Y/N shrugs.

He sighs, nodding his head three times before moving to get on his knees, toying with unbuttoning her pants.

She gasps and jumps away. "Harry!"

Harry can't help but smirk, "Isn't that always the price."

"I just wanted a kiss; no need to make a scene." He shrugs. "Now, don't you have a practice to get to?"

"Ugh, I do." Harry groans, dreading practice knowing the coach likes to run them twice as much for not working out on the weekends.

"Give me a kiss, please. Then you'll come by later, right?"

"That is correct." He leans in, giving her three consecutive pecks on her lips.

"Who's taking you home again?" He asks, wanting to make sure she's safe.

"Sarah and Mitch."

"Right, good. Well, off I go, poppet."

"Bye."

Harry turns and heads toward the field, where he can see the freshman already setting up drills and getting the water jug out to the bench. He's only taken a few steps when his angel's voice stops him.

"Dove,"

Harry can feel his cheeks turn bright red at the term of endearment. He turns and takes two steps back to her. "Yes, lovie."

"Will you give me one more kiss?" Her voice soft and innocent but the gleam in her eye is anything but that.

Harry takes the last step towards her and holds her face with both hands reaching down and kissing her passionately. He pulls away after what feels like a lifetime, slowly as he tries to steady his breathing.

"I love you," she whispers.

He presses a final kiss to her forehead. "And I love you." Harry turns and begins to jog away, recognizing he's got a limited time to get dressed and out on the field to warm up. He's a few feet away but turns his head to see her watching him still. "Tell your mom I'll be joining you for dinner."

She nods, letting him know she heard him before he turns a corner and out of her eyesight. Only then does she go in search of her waiting friends who will bring her home.

______

After Y/N informed her mother that Harry was going to join them for dinner, she got up to cook, wanting everything to be ready for when her father and Harry arrived, seeing it would be around the same time.

Y/N made herself scarce as her mother was in no mood to converse. Instead, she wanted to cook, and maybe if she planned her time accordingly, she would do dessert.

Dinner time came around quickly, meaning she was lost in homework for a good few hours. She walked downstairs wanting to help her mom set the table when the front door swung open.

"Hello, father!" Y/N bounced over to him, giving him a big hug and a peck on his cheek, one that he happily returned.

"Hi, my sweet girl."

"Mom cooked a delicious dinner. We're just waiting on Harry." Y/N told him, knowing he's hungry from a long day at work.

"Won't have to wait long; Harry was just parking when I was on the steps."

Y/N's eyes lit up at hearing that he arrived. Her father chuckled, "I'll go say hello to my wife, dinner in ten, okay."

Y/N walks out to see Harry coming up the stairs in a cozy blue emblem sweater with denim Levi jeans and paired with his old white Chuck All-Stars. She smiled because he went home to shower, not wanting to wear his clothes from earlier or come over smelling like sweat, not that she minded.

"You know we don't mind the sweat, H," She tells him as he's climbing up the last few steps.

He shrugs. "I know, but I am a guest in your home and would never dare disrespect your parents and you, of course."

Y/N grins. "Four years dating, and you continue to prove to be the most perfect boyfriend."

Harry looks away, feeling bashful. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I would, dove." Y/N closes the gap between them. "Now, I say you kiss me before mom calls us in for dinner."

"It would be my greatest pleasure."

____

Dinner was a success, conversation always flowing well. Y/N likes to sit back and listen to her parents talk with Harry as if they hadn't seen him in forever when he is more than likely to be here every other day. Her father is a big fan of football; he too was once a player. No, he wasn't quarterback; he was right-wing and helped his team make it to state championships.

The high school team has won three state championships since Harry's first year as a freshman. They counted on making it the fourth year; no doubt in anybody's mind it would happen. Y/N picked up on her father's excitement going on and on about the first game and how it was the most important one now that scouts would be coming out more and more. Without a second thought, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing, reassuring Harry she was there for him. He slowly turned the hand on his thigh palm up and intertwined them together.

"Thank you so much for dinner, Lorelai. Luke, thank you for the great conversation. I can't wait to see you both at the game."

"We wouldn't dare miss it, Harry," Lorelai tells him, a wide grin on her face as she picks up the dishes.

"Now go on; I'll help your mother with the dishes tonight." Luke gestures to them to get up and get their privacy. Y/N thanks him and takes Harry's hand, leading the way up the stairs.

Now they are lying on her bed, it's got enough space for them to be spread out, but she prefers to lay across Harry, her head on his chest as he rests his head on her pillows.

Harry had his hand in her hair, always calming for her and for him. Allows them to sit in comfortable silence, basking in the joy of being together.

Many people ask them if they ever get sick of seeing each other every day and never giving each other space after dating for so long. That isn't entirely true because when they aren't at their respective extracurricular activities, they are found together. Harry's response is always, "she's my favorite person." Y/N just shrugs and smiles, "he's my best friend."

Believe it or not, they spent around in her room listening to music or in his house watching movies from their grand VHS collection. Most thought they spent it making it out, not that they don't do that because they are just as in love as when they got together four years ago. When they walked into any room, her parents were sure they would be kissing, which is why the open door policy exists. Well, half-open is the agreement now.

Harry looks around her room, his eyes settling on the polaroid photo on her bedside table, one of them smiling at each other, lost in their own worlds. It's dated 06-18-1989<i<, it was from one of their many summer days spent together. He decided now was as good as time to bring up what he had been hiding.

"You know how we were making plans for the weekend, sweetheart."

"Yes, you didn't let us decide on anything."

"Well, what if I did?"

She sits up and moves to sit in front of him. "Okay, I'm all ears.

"You up for a drive?"

"Always, so drive me to the moon, please."

Harry laughs. "Serious for a sec, baby."

"Sorry, yes, go on then." She interrupts him once more. "How far is the drive? You're not always the best driver."

"Ouch" Harry has his hand over his heart, feigning as if her words had pierced him. "Guess I won't tell you."

"That's fine."

"Yeah. Is it?"

"Yup."

"Why's that?" He's confused; she's usually begging to know by now.

"Simple, because I just won't give you any kisses."

"That's cruel."

"Oh well. I don't play fair."

"Think you can resist me, sweetheart?"

"Oh, I know I can."

Harry shakes his head, response ready, but she stops him. "Remember who asked who out five different times."

"That's because you were playing hard to get. Claiming you just wanted to be friends for a little longer."

"That was tru-" It's his turn to stop her.

"Ah, yes, I know. I was getting impatient. Don't know if you know this or not, darling, but I had to scare off a lot of boys.

"Trust me, H. I knew"

"You did?"

"Yes, I think it was because everyone knew sooner or later I was going to put you out of your misery."

"Yeah, by saying yes."

"Oh no, I was going to say no."

"What changed?" Clearly, something had, and he just had to know.

"You decided to show up at school wearing your Sunday best and brought me sunflowers. Told me they reminded you how much light I brought into your life. There I decided yes, he'll make a fine boyfriend."

Harry's smile is big, dimples on display just for her. Always for her. "You tease too much."

"But you love it."

"I do." He leans in and smiles as she lets him lead the kiss. It's slow and full of love. A love that only continues to grow each moment they are together. "I really do."

Y/N leans in, wanting to give him more kisses, wanting to be connected to him, wanting him to always feel her love. She's not sure how much time has passed when Harry pulls away.

"You do realize we got sidetracked."

"Yes, worth it if you ask me." She looks pleased. "Now you have to tell me, I gave you kisses."

Harry runs his thumb over her bottom lip, asking for another. She puckers her lips leaning forward, and connects their lips in a short soft kiss.

"Friday night, the Forum."

Y/N's eyes go wide; she was not expecting to hear that.

"No."

"Yes."

She sits there taking it in.

"Say it, baby." Harry likes that he managed to surprise her.

"You got us tickets for Elton John." She whispers out, her eyes now locked with his needing him to confirm it.

"Yes, I did."

"A sold-out show."

"Think it's going to be a fun night."

"How?" Although Y/N has an idea.

"Well, I called in on a favor with our dear friend Sarah and the radio station she's interning at."

"I love her." She breathes out.

"Hey," Harry knocks her out of her gaze. "And me."

"Of course, I love you." She moves forward, seating herself in his lap. "I love you. I can't believe you did this for me."

"Yes, can't let you go off to uni without experiencing a concert."

"You are perfect, Styles."

"Perfect for you."

There's so much love in between them; if anyone walked into the room, they'd be able to feel it.

"Wait." Her hands now resting on his chest, a frown taking over her face. "How are we going to convince my parents."

"Already done. Told them the plan and the itinerary, and your parents have agreed."

"Perfect, I'm telling."

"Is this why we're walking to school tomorrow?" She remembers him telling her he won't have his car.

"Yes, taking it to the mechanic. I just want to make sure all is okay."

"Marry me?"

Harry can feel his cheeks warming up; she always makes him blush. He takes hold of her left hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her ring finger.

"All in good time, my love."

_____

The week had dragged on, but it was finally Friday. She had been excited all week, and everyone could tell. Told her how she was jumpier, a lot more smiley, and twice as affectionate with Harry. She was happy.

She's at home getting ready; they would be leaving soon. Seeing as it was still a bit of a drive and no doubt would get stuck in traffic, seeing as they aren't the only ones attending the show.

Y/N had gone over outfit after outfit until she finally decided on what she is wearing now. She's wearing a deep red power shoulder tucked into her favorite high-waist denim that makes her waist and butt look extra good.

As she walks down the stairs, she hears the door and knows Harry is here to take her away. No matter what, he always stepped up to the door to pick her up; it still made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy.

Her father is at the door speaking with Harry going over her extended rules and what numbers to call for an emergency.

"Well, aren't you a dream," Harry looks her up and down; she does a slow spin for him on the heel of her black boots to give him the full look. "I'm a lucky man."

"Glad you know it, H."

She grabs hold of his brown leather jacket and runs her finger down it, it's an old one, but he takes such good care of it; one would think he just got it today.

"Think you just took my breath away, H." She swears there are hearts in her eyes as she takes him in.

"That's exactly what I was going for."

Harry and Y/N bid her parents goodbye; they wish them a safe journey. Her mother was excited to send her off; her father was a bit more worried but trusted Harry to keep her safe.

The drive to the arena is filled with conversation over the upcoming year, Harry's final football season, and her volunteering hours how she was hoping to be accepted into the NICU's internship at their hospital. Also, lots of singing on the radio as well as Harry's CDs. From ABBA to Shania Twain, he had, but they settled on Elton John for the ride.

In what feels like no time, they had arrived. Y/N is amazed at how big it is; she doesn't know much about the place just from what Sarah told her that it was large and no matter where she sat, she was going to have the best time of her life. Already having Harry at her side, she had no doubt about it. She can't stop smiling, and neither can Harry.

Harry grabs her hand as they both stare at the arena, where hundreds of people are lining up to enter.

"Ready, love."

"Yes, gosh. I might throw up from the excitement."

"Oh no, let's get you a pop. It'll help."

"That sounds nice." Y/N leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "Thank you, H."

"Angel, I am more than happy to do this for you."

Hand in hand, they walked into the arena, ready to sing their hearts out together.

_____

Two hours of singing and dancing her heart off, and yet it still wasn't enough to tire Y/N out. Harry was sure she'd be clinging to his arm as he pulled her out of the arena, but she had asked him to wait out the crowd, and they stood in the emptying arena, arms around each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and it was still pumping hard. He kissed her lips one final time before swinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding them out to the chilly Los Angeles air.

Y/N was all smiles, and she thinks it has to do with the man whose curls have fallen flat from all the sweating they did inside the arena. Being in a room packed around thousands of people will do that. She has never been in such a happy and united environment.

It's a memory she's going to cherish forever.

The drive home is full of retelling of their favorite parts of the night. Harry decided his was when Y/N turned to kiss him during "Your Song." He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It's a feeling he never wants to end.

Y/N's had to have been each outfit change. There were so many that she lost track, but she loved how unique each outfit was. It's something she knew she could never pull off, but she admired the beauty of each one. It was over the top and full of colors; it kept her mesmerized. It reminded her of life and how filled with color it really is. Also, when Harry sang his heart out during "Tiny Dancer." How he knew every lyric and didn't miss a beat, if she's honest, she didn't bother looking at the stage for the entire song too entranced in Harry.

The smile does not leave their face, not during the traffic of getting on the freeway, not when they stopped by McDonald's and got burgers and decided to share a coke, and not even when they saw the sign welcoming back into Aurora.

Y/N's smile didn't drop until Harry parked his car right in front of her house. She sits back against the seat and turns her head to already find a bashful Harry smiling at her.

"Come here." He whispers.

She unbuckles and sits in his lap, it may have been a few hours, but she missed being this close to him.

Y/N didn't wait for Harry to ask; she simply leaned in and connected his strawberry lips with hers. She loved how soft they always were, and she knew she'd keep letting him steal her lip balms if they did such an excellent job keeping them soft and tasting sweet; then again, that could be all Harry. She lets out a small moan when Harry swipes his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she happily grants it.

She wishes she can stay here forever, in his arms, kissing his lips, never having to stop.

"Baby," Harry breathes against her lips.

Y/N knows what he's going to say; she's not ready to say goodnight. Instead, she keeps kissing him. "Just a little longer." She mutters against his lips.

Harry can't bring himself to pull away again and nods, allowing her to take control. He has a tight grip on her thigh, he wishes to move it higher, but he knows if he does, she won't be going inside tonight. She moves her lips down his jaw pressing gentle kisses.

"You drive me crazy."

"Feelings mutual, darling."

Harry pulls her back up and kisses her plush mouth. She tastes sweet, something he never pinpoints; all he knows is that it's intoxicating. He presses one final kiss on her lips and pulls back. She's breathing heavy, a large grin on her face. He knows he looks just as dazed.

"Think you got to get inside now."

"Don't want to leave you." She grabs a fist of his jacket, pulling herself closer.

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

She pouts. "Why so late?"

"Because you're going to want to sleep in." He brushes a bit of her hair away, she leans into his touch; she loves how delicate each touch is.

"What if you come early and then cuddle me? Mom won't turn you away."

"She might."

"Not after I walk in and tell her how amazing the night was." She cups his cheeks, rubbing her thumb affectionately on his smooth skin. "She's got a sweet spot for you."

"And you." He reminds her.

"Well, of course. I'm her daughter." She laughs but knows she hasn't convinced him. "Please," she whispers. She flashes him her best puppy dog look, knowing he won't be able to resist.

"Fine. I'll be here at eight, darling."

"Perfect." She gloats.

"Let me walk you up."

Harry helps her back into the passenger seat so they can both head out. He grabs her hand, pulling her in close, not wanting her far for the last moments he has her.

"You want to know something, H." She whispers, keys in her hand.

"What is it, angel?"

"I want to travel the world with you."

"The world." He gasps. "It's a big place, baby. Where would we start?"

"London got to see the place you grew up before moving here. Of, course we'll save up and just spend the year traveling wherever life takes us."

"That sounds perfect."

She hums, deep in thought, picturing visiting all these places she's only dreamed of with him by her side. To see the Eiffel tower, walk the streets of Scotland, and swim in the Amalfi Coast waters.

"Dove," He hums, playing with a loose string of her jeans. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere you want. I'll make sure to take you wherever you want to go."

"Take me to the stars, dovie."

"As you wish, my sweet angel."

Harry brings his right hand up to her face and gently cups her cheek; she sighs, knowing precisely what he's going to do. She tilts her head up and feels his lips against her. It's the softest kiss of the night; it's gentle. It's her favorite kiss, the goodnight kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow.

She breaks away the first time tonight, knowing if he kept going a moment longer, she wouldn't let him go. "Goodnight, H," She whispers as she begins to open the door.

"Goodnight, love."

Harry turns and walks to his car as he hears the door shut and hears her turn the lock. Once in his car, he takes a look up at her window, sends a final smile as he sees her waving him off.

He feels so much joy always being around her, but tonight it seems to have multiplied by a hundred. He knew tonight was perfect, but his favorite part wasn't even at the concert; it was standing outside her door as they spoke of their future together.

Happiness isn't always about the big moments but also about these small moments that make them feel invincible.

JUNE 1998

Y/N grabs a book from her bookshelf, not bother glancing at which one knowing if she stopped to read each title, she would be there all day. She heads to the yard, a picnic blanket tucked under her arm, so she can lay on it and soak in a bit of the sun.

Her mother is trimming the leaves of the roses, wanting the flower to pop out more. Her father usually helps her, but he's finishing up last-minute work before coming out to join them. He has a good view of them from his office window. When she was young, he told her he chose this room because it's where her mom spends all her time, and he likes having his eye on her as she joins the beauty of her flowers. Y/N's known love all her life, and she's happy her parents have each other, but she can't help but feel like she let that one-of-a-kind love go years ago and fears she'll never find it again.

As she settles down on her blanket, she decides to rid herself of all thoughts and instead get lost in the words of Stephen King. She picked up a psychological horror. She remembers her father mentioning it was a good read and that she'd enjoyed it. Two pages in, and she knows she's hooked; it looks like she will be laying out here all day.

At least that's what she thought when her mother interrupted her.

"When are you meeting everyone?"

Y/N puts the book down on her chest and looks over at her mom, who's still got her eyes on her roses. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"When are you meeting everyone?" Her mother repeats herself.

"Tomorrow."

"Time, darling?"

"At one."

She hums in response. "I leave you in charge, and please be watchful over my roses."

"Of course, I would never think of damaging your roses. Well, my roses, really." Y/N corrects.

"Just because they were planted in your honor does not mean they are yours. You've cared for them for such little time."

"Excuse me, mother. I went off to university, but once I'm done and ready to settle down, I will be doing all the caring."

"Yes, because you will have time as a doctor." Her mother responds sarcastically.

"I will be able to."

Her mother decided to move on, knowing how stubborn Y/N can be. "Your father and I have lunch and dinner plans out of town, so you'll have the house to yourself for most of the day and night."

"You're treating me like I'm sixteen again, and it's my first time having friends over."

Her mom laughs, and Y/N can't help but join. "You're forever, my little girl."

"Cheesy." Y/N teases.

Y/N leans back and gets comfortable, all thoughts of tomorrow pushed away and instead gets lost in the town of Bridgton, Maine.

_____

It's time; everyone is making their way over. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, thankful there's a nice breeze outside to keep her cool. Y/N and her mom cooked pasta with grilled chicken and strawberry lemonade wanting to be ready for after the digging. Y/N would feel bad making them dig a hole, open a box, then head on out. These people are her friends, and she wishes to spend time with them, and what better than with food.

She's got ten minutes before everyone is due to arrive when she hears a car pull up and turn off right in front of her house. Y/N knows of only one person who shows up early.

Harry.

Y/N thought he would be the last to arrive, but she's guessing old habits die hard. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door and walking out.

Harry would be lying if he wasn't nervous. He's about to see Y/N for the first time after years. He's seen her in photos; he knows she only continued to become more beautiful as the years passed. It's not the same as, no, because he knows what's separating them is a walk up to the door.

He feels precisely as he did the moment he asked her out and, if he's truthful, how she made him feel their entire relationship. Harry's 26, but his heart feels 18, and at that age, he was deeply in love with the woman inside that house. He loves her just the same.

Harry takes a long deep breath before slowly letting it out. He could do this; he got out of his car and made his way up the path, where she was already standing waiting for him. It felt like no time had passed as if he was coming over to take her on a date--except they weren't even close enough to say they were friends.

"Harry," She breathes out as he reaches the first step.

"Hi" He sends her a small smile. "You look great."

Y/N feels her cheek flush, and knows he can notice now that he's right in front of her. She takes in her outfit; it's simple, just a cropped red long-sleeved tee and black pants, with an old pair of black sneakers.

"Thank you, Harry. As do you." And he really does. He's wearing loose green denim joggers with a matching jacket. He has left it open, showing a brown button-up, a silver cross necklace peeking out from the space he left unbuttoned. "Always on time still."

"Better early than late."

She nods, not sure if she should continue the conversation or not. Are they going to stand out here in silence? It was never this hard; she hates this. Y/N rather keep talking than let themselves stand there in silence for another eight minutes.

She clears her throat. "How'd med school go? Have you decided on a residency yet? Anne told me you were weighing your options."

Harry doesn't try to hide his shock. "You spoke to my mum?" He asks in disbelief.

Y/N grins as much as his English accent is fading; it always comes back when saying 'mum,' or well, when he's nervous.

She nods. "I visit her when I visit my family. Recently passed when I came to see my mother who was feeling down and lonely as she put it even though she has dad to keep her company."

Harry smiles, knowing what weekend she was talking about because he had come the week after, and Lorelai had told him she was no longer as lonely. He thought it might have been because of his company, but it was because her daughter was home for a weekend.

When he's about to tell her where he decided, she waits patiently, staring up at him, a shy smile on her face but stops when Sydney comes and tackles Y/N in a hug.

"Of course, Styles got first dibs on you." Sydney fakes her exasperation.

"He knows how to be punctual." Y/N teases. "Looks like you bring the others as always." She signals seeing two more cars park; they park in the empty driveway.

"Just like old times," Zac screams out two bottles of wines in his hands. Mitch and Sarah walk up behind him, agreeing.

Y/N looks around, and it's almost like old times. Just one small difference that makes her heartache.

Everyone greets each other, sharing long hugs, and it's not long after that she invites everyone in and into the backyard.

"Mom says if we mess up her roses, we are dead meat," Y/N informs them all as they all stand in a semi-circle under the spot they buried their time capsule.

Mitch steps and pats Harry on the back. "If anything does happen, just say it was Harold. Lorelai has a soft spot for him."

Sarah approaches water in her hand. "Y/N is her golden child who does no wrong, easy to forgive."

Y/N laughs. "Enough. No roses will be damaged. Are we clear?"

She gets a chorus of "yes."

"Great, there are clear instructions that only Zac and Harry are allowed to shovel. Sorry, Mitch, mom said we've got to take care of your musical hands."

Mitch nods in appreciation.

"What about the doctor? No care for him." Harry mutters a small smile on his face.

"Quiet Styles, you're a favorite still," Zac tells him, pushing a shovel into his chest.

Y/N's happy watching the banter; it's like she's sixteen again, and they are trying to see who could dig their side of the hole faster.

SEPTEMBER 1988 - TIME CAPSULE

"High school friendships aren't known to last," Zac speaks out randomly, breaking everyone out of their conversations.

Harry sighs, "You're a downer."

"I'm a realist."

Y/N takes this in; she hasn't thought years down the line. She just assumed they would always be in her life. She can't see herself without them.

"What if we aren't friends ten years down the road?" Y/N voices.

Harry instantly picks up the concern in her voice. "I promise I won't let that happen, lovie." He assures her.

"H, I know."

"It's not uncommon for others to drift, especially when everyone has a different path after high school." Sydney comments. "My sister went through it."

"Let's write a letter, and we can bury it, open it ten years, but we have to do it together," Sarah suggests.

"Not a bad idea." Everyone nods in agreement.

"Let's do a letter and something important to us." Y/N proposes already having an idea of what to put.

"It's settled. We're burying a time capsule." Harry states.

"One problem."

"What now, Zac?" Sarah groans.

"Where do we bury it?"

Slowly everyone turns their gaze on to Y/N.

"Your house," Sydney tells her.

"You all agree?" Y/n is surprised.

"Your mom will never leave her house. It's gorgeous."

"Also," Zac chimes in, "You love it and tell us how it's going to be yours one day."

Y/N sighs and nods. "I will ask and will let you know."

_____

It took a lot to convince her mother, but her father liked the idea and supported her. Two against one, Y/N knew her mom was in a losing fight. After lots of hugs and kisses and promises of doing the dishes for two weeks straight, she got permission.

They had decided on a Saturday, wanting to do it early in the morning, unsure how long they would take digging the hole. Her mom designated an area for them to open.

Her mom allowed her to have the house to themselves, trusting them not to do anything but dig a hole. Y/N had everyone promise they would be on their best behavior.

Harry and Zac volunteered to dig, and no one argued. It took over an hour for them to get a decent-sized hole. It looked tiring, but Y/N enjoyed watching Harry's muscle flex as he threw out dirt. Finally, being satisfied with the hole size, mainly Sydney, made them go longer; it was time to place their items inside.

Y/N rewrote her letter a few times, never knowing the right thing to say. It wasn't until she was lying on the floor of her room with Harry's head in her lap did she know what she wanted to tell her future self.

Mitch went first, putting in his first-ever guitar pic, Sarah her Walkman, Harry followed with a copy of Romeo and Juliet, Y/N a chained rose ring, she put it in but not before giving it a small kiss knowing she'd miss it. Zac decided on his baseball mitt, and Sydney threw in a signed polaroid of herself, knowing it'd be worth a lot more once she became famous for her art.

Harry locked it shut with the final object in the box and lowered it down with Mitch's help. It fit well, and they sat around as it began to fill with dirt.

"Ten years, we'll come back and open it up."

"Yeah, but like summertime. I'm sure we'll have more time during the summer than other months." Zac might be right for once.

"June 1998," Sarah suggests.

Everyone thinks about it for a second, it feels so far away, a lifetime, really, but yes, they all agree.

Ten years' time, they will all be digging it up and will relive these moments.

JUNE 1998

Harry removes his jacket half an hour in, and there is nothing to complain about. He tosses it close to her side, and Y/N knows if things were different, he would have gently thrown it at her, and without a second thought, she would have put it on. She missed the times when he loved her. Because as much as she can't admit it out loud, she still loves him.

Now she'll fake conversation with Sydney when her real focus is on Harry and how his muscles seem to grow every time he scoops some dirt out and adds to the pile. He's grown buff over the years, he was always tall and firm in high school due to football, but now he's more defined. The most significant change was in his face, more stern. Not as smiley; it might just be due to being around her. He must hate being in her presence after she broke his heart.

Y/N lets herself get lost in thought when Zac cheers. She looks down, and peeking out in the corner is brown wood.

"We've hit gold."

In the next five minutes, Zac and Harry dig as much of the sides as they can, and soon enough, they are lifting it out before settling it down with a big "thump."

Y/N can't stop eyeing it; it's got dirt in every spot that meets her eye, but she knows what's waiting for her inside of that box, and she can't wait to have it with her once more.

"Who's going to do the honors?" Mitch asks the bolt cutters in his hand, ready to hand them over.

Everyone looks around at each other; no one says a thing until Harry steps forward and reaches to take them from his hand. Mitch hands them to Harry, no question asked. Harry heads straight to Y/N; he stretches his arm out, waiting for her to accept the cutters.

"Think it's only fair Y/N does the honors, seeing as we made her do a lot of groveling to Lorelai ten or so years ago just for us to bury this; not that she let any of us know." Harry smiles, urging her to take it. Y/N fingers brush his rather quickly, but in that small second, she felt her heart rate pick up and fears he might hear it, although that is almost impossible.

"Thank you." He nods, urging her forward.

"Take your time, doll." Zac says sarcastically."

Y/N is too busy getting down on her knees in front to see the glare Harry sent Zac's way. Everyone else catches the look; believe it or not, they all hope this is the moment that brings these two once lovers back again.

"Here goes nothing."

Y/N places the bolt cutters between the lock and counts down to three; it breaks right off the first try.

"You've got some strength!" Sydney exclaims; she was expecting it to take much longer.

Y/N lets the lock fall before reaching up and pulling the single latch. She scans everyone circling around her before opening the crate hating the creaking sound it releases.

There on top are their most prized items from when they were sixteen.

Sydney reaches in first, pulling out a polaroid and pink envelope. She flips it over and lets out the biggest laugh. Sydney turns the photo around, letting everyone see her in the photo wearing her then boyfriend's varsity jacket. It has her signature on the page. "I swore I was going to be famous for my art and would sell this for thousands."

"One day." Harry offers.

Sydney shrugs. "My boyfriend will appreciate this the most if I'm honest."

"He's that crazy for you?" Sarah asks.

Sydney nods, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fortunate." She laughs, letting the moment pass. "Enough, Zac, please, you're next."

Zac, for the first time the whole evening, has fallen silent, almost looks nervous to reach inside. He takes a deep breath to go to the corner of the box and pull out a beat-up baseball mitt. Y/N can see his eyes well up with tears. He chuckles, "I swore I was going to go pro, but that senior injury year changed everything. In a way, Zac felt free; he got to pursue a career in travel journalism. "Enough sap, I volunteer, Harry."

Harry nods, moving forward, sitting next to Y/N thighs touching; she feels her breath hitch; she doesn't dare move. He reaches in for the only book it's resting on the bottom, a white envelope with a scribbled 'H' on top. He sets the envelope aside but keeps the book in hand.

Harry smiles at the book in hand, Romeo and Juliet. It was not his favorite by any means, but it held a special place in his heart because it was the first book Y/N read to him when they first started dating. He remembers telling her he hated how she ignored him for words on paper, so he proposed she read to him aloud, and that way, they could bond. Y/N was thrilled at the idea; the first book was Shakespeare because it was a reading assignment, and she wanted it done that weekend.

Harry hated the ending; he remembers ranting to Y/N as she ran her fingers through his hair to calm him down. He didn't understand why Shakespeare made these two people who were star-crossed lovers fall in love in a week only to have them die.

Safe to say, it took a while to let Y/N read another one of Shakespeare's works.

Y/N's eyes were on the book, and she watched as Harry carefully opened it to the first page, moving it back so that only they could read what was written on the cover page.

It read: I've loved you for six months. I'll love you for six more. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to love you for life. Love, Y/N xxx

Y/N felt tears behind her eyes; she had to look away. She was so naïve at the age, but oh how she loved him, and she knew he loved her just the same. Y/N was so grateful to know she was loved, even if it was years ago.

She doesn't want to go next; instead, Sarah reaches in to save her. Sarah pulls out her folded half of paper and her blue Walkman player. "Oh my goodness, this is going to have some golden tunes."

Mitch chuckles, "You suffered without it. Think was the first time I ever heard you complain about something."

Sarah sends him a playful glare. "Shut it! Why don't you go next, Mr. Sentimental."

Mitch is one to never say no to Sarah, so he shrugs and makes his way forward. Patting Harry on the shoulder causing Harry to shift closer to Y/N. Both Harry and Y/N don't say anything but don't bother to move away either.

Sarah smiled as she watches Mitch pick up a guitar pick. It was the first one he received from his father. "Dad always said I had a guitar in hand."

"Mitch, you've voiced your thoughts out loud." Harry jokes.

"Funny Styles." That's the last of what Mitch says as he moves back to read his letter, and Sarah follows close behind.

Y/N feels everyone staring, but really it's only just Harry. Everyone focused on their own letters but also waiting for a reaction. She slowly reaches in, first pulling out the pink envelope with her initial on the front; Harry wrote it for her, saying she needed a way to identify it years later.

She sets it in her lap before reaching in and getting the item she's been thinking about all day.

A silver rose ring.

It was a gift from Harry; Y/N always spoke of roses and how much her mother loved them. Leading to Harry finding out she loved them just as much. He wore this ring for a long time; he found it in a store in London before they made the move here permanently. It's his last real piece of home, but Aurora had become home, and so had Y/N. It felt right to give to her. She cried, receiving it, and knew it wouldn't fit but told him not to get it resized. She surprised him by wearing it around her neck; she put it on a chain she had. There wasn't a day she wasn't seen without it.

She holds it tightly in her hand as if Harry might rip it out of her hand, wanting it back, but it's hers, and it's special. Y/N never wants to forget her memories with Harry, no matter how much it hurts, thinking back on them.

"I've missed it." She whispers.

Y/N slips it over her head, letting it rest outside her shirt for all to see. She missed the look on Harry's face, but this might be the motivation he needs to speak with her. To talk about where they are now in life.

Except Y/N stands up, brushing the dirt that was on her pants to head somewhere more private to read her letter she wrote to herself. She walks a few feet away and flips open the pink tab, pulls out a folded paper. Her eyes immediately go to the bottom of the page, wherein black ink, it says, "I love Harry (PS: he made you write that, but it doesn't make it any less true."

Everything surrounded him; her love for him was just that large. She reads over her letter taking in the words of how her sixteen-year-old self said she was proud of her and that no matter what happens, it was all for a reason.

It's exactly what she needed to hear.

Harry is watching Y/N stand there read her letter, and he feels the gaze of everyone else to go approach her. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would have been at her side holding her hand or rubbing her back, but now he doesn't even know if they are even friends. Mitch nudges him, and he knows he should check on her, but she surprises everyone by turning around, a grin on her face.

"Mom and I cooked lunch, so let's wash up and eat. All this sure has built up my appetite."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Zac smiles, walking inside heading straight to the kitchen sink.

The others begin to follow Zac inside when Y/N stops hearing her name being called. It's Harry standing by the hole, shovel in hand.

"Should I cover it up?"

Y/N can't help the smile, Harry was always so eager to help, and she's glad his kind helping sport hasn't changed. "No, dad is going to cover it. Mom told him he needs to do more yard work. She called it bonding time."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am."

"Let's head in then."

As Harry is about to walk past her, she reaches her hand out, grabbing his bicep, surprising him. "Thank you."

He nods his head. "Of course."

Y/N sighs; there's so much left unsaid. Their breakup fresh on her mind seeing him walk away from her, bringing it all back. Oh, how she wishes things were different.

She doesn't regret leaving for New York, but she does wonder if there was a way to have made their relationship work; would it have survived or crashed and burned.

In a way, she's glad she never had to find out.

Y/N puts her brave face on; she's surrounded by friends who love her and who she hasn't spoken to for longer than half an hour. She's going to soak in this time and enjoy it.

There are other times to be sad.

MARCH 1990 - ACCEPTANCES

Y/N and Harry were both lost in thought as Harry drove them to their destination. There was a lot to think about

Harry was proud to get a full-ride football scholarship to UCLA and a partial for USC. They were close to home, and he got to play a sport he was good at. These universities were tough to get into, but he impressed the recruits. He didn't bother applying outside the state, knowing he couldn't be far from home. It felt wrong for him; he knew that wasn't the case for Y/N.

Y/N always spoke about leaving the state. She had dreamed about it from a young age especially seeing her brother do it. Gabriel's stories only make her more excited for her future. She loved to travel, no matter the distance.

Harry, of course, knew this; he just thought he could convince her to stay.

Applying to schools was hard for Y/N; there were many universities she wanted to apply to, but she feared rejection, so she set a limit of six. Still, a high number; she just needed options.

When acceptances came in, each application welcomed her. Two east coast universities offered full-ride scholarships, USC offered partial and others only half. She had the money for tuition, her parents saved for her, which she is forever thankful for but knowing she could move across the country like she always dreamed of was calling her name.

The one thing that stopped her was Harry.

Y/N had never known love until Harry, and she knows her leaving will jeopardize that. She also knows if she stays, she might not be happy, always stuck on the "what if?"

She was distraught as soon as she heard the news. Her mom saw her pace outside, then sit, pour herself tea then began the cycle again. Y/N dreamed of Columbia. It was her dream university, and to give that up, but also having to give up Harry, she couldn't pick; she didn't want to.

Harry parks the car; he drove them to an abandoned cliffside that's full of wildflowers. Y/N didn't rush out of the vehicle as she once would have wanted to feel the cold breeze. Now, she stares ahead, letting the car fill with silence—neither one wanting to be the one to begin the conversation that would change everything.

"Is this the end?" Y/N asks her voice, betraying her, as she feels her throat tighten up.

Harry doesn't answer; he reaches for her hand and holds it tight.

"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be." She's barely holding herself together. Y/N's staring at the side of his head, silently begging for him to meet her gaze.

"Life isn't always as easy as the last four years have been for us," Harry tells her, finally meeting her eyes.

"I love you. You know that, right."

"I know." He whispers.

Y/N shuts her eyes, repeats the words in her head she hasn't been able to voice out, knowing she's going to be breaking more than one heart right now.

"I can't stay, Harry." Y/N blinks her tears away, but they come right back, seeing Harry holding back tears. "As much as I want to, as much as I can't let you go. I also can't stay."

"Don't let me go then." He whispers. He reaches forward, cradling her cheek in his hand. It's the softest touch he's given her. It's as if he's trying to remember how she feels.

"It's not fair."

"I don't care." Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tear away that managed to escape.

"But I do."

"I don't care." He tries again, Harry can't let her go. She's his life, he's too young to know about forever, but he doesn't want to live a life without her. "I'll go with you."

Y/N lets her tears begin to fall at his words. "No." Her voice firm. "It's over if you leave."

Harry pulls back, hurt by her words but Y/N's just as upset.

She lets go of her hold on him and hurries out of the car. Harry yells her name, begging her to come back, but she's too busy crying to listen to him. Soon enough, she's surrounded by trees, and there are two trails to follow, but she can't pick; it is faith mocking her in the smallest of ways. Instead, she settles for sitting right in the center on a patch of grass.

Y/N sits hunched over, crying; that's how Harry finds her. He doesn't say a word. He sits next to her and pulls her into his lap.

"I'm sorry. So sorry, darling."

Harry begins to rock her back and forward, letting his tears all as he rests his chin on top of her head. Begins to whisper sweet nothings, just wanting her close. He hates that they are causing each other this hurt.

Y/N's cries have stopped; she sniffles from time to time. The holds she has on Harry is iron tight as if he'd vanish if she let go for even a second."

"Summer." She whispers, breaking the silence.

"What?" Harry is not sure what she can mean.

"We have Summer."

"Yeah, we do."

"We have to let each other go at the end of Summer." Her tone is final.

"Y/N-"

Y/N stops him, "Harry, I'm not letting you give up your dreams for me, and I know you won't let me do the same."

"I can't say goodbye," He confesses.

"Then we won't. We'll kiss goodnight and pretend like we'll see each other in the morning."

"That's heartbreaking, love." He chuckles bitterly.

"I love you, Harry Styles."

"And I love you, my angel."

Harry is done crying, instead leans in and kisses her like he should have done earlier as soon as he had parked the car. The kiss is fast, not soft like all the kisses he's used to giving her, no he wants her to remember this kiss. He wants her to feel everything he isn't saying.

I love you. You're mine. You're my best friend. I will love you forever. He wants her to feel it all.

"Show me you love me." Y/N pulls back breathless, lips plush begging to be kissed again. Harry knows what she's asking, and he's not one to deny her.

He stands up, confusing her, but he comes prepared. Harry walks for the blanket he dumped a few feet away from them, grabbing it and spreading it out. Y/N is quick to lay back on the soft blanket. It warms her instantly. She smiles, reaching her hand up as Harry leans over her, his bottom half straddling her waist, her hand intertwining in his soft curls. Y/N brings him down for a kiss needing his touch to be close.

Harry and Y/N are wrapped in their own world, lost in their kiss; it's always been them against the world, but soon they are going to venture off separately. It's something that neither of them wants to wrap their head around, and they won't not until they have to.

They will enjoy graduation together, hand in hand receiving diplomas. Y/N will deliver a beautiful valedictorian speech. The joint graduation party will be a joy and one they sneak away from to spend watching the moon reflect over the ocean. It's the one place they feel at peace, the sea being a favorite of both of theirs. The Summer will bring endless days out, travels up the coast of California even as far as making it to San Francisco for a trip. There is not a second where they don't spend time together, and their parents understand; it breaks their heart, but it's their future, and all they can do is support them. Their love will only grow this Summer which makes it more heartbreaking when they say goodbye in August.

But none of that matters because, for now, they have each other, and that is enough.

Harry pulls back, leaning his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing together.

"I love you."

"I love you so much; it's not going away just because--" Harry stops, not being able to voice the words out loud. He can't say it, or he'll start crying.

"I know, dove." She trails her finger up his chest until they right over his heart. Y/N can feel how fast it's beating; it beats for her. "Maybe a day will come where we can be together again, that's if you don't find someone else, which I understand if you do."

"It's not going to happen."

"You don't know that," She mutters.

"Hey, I love you. No one is going to love me like you do. I'd be a fool to love someone else." Y/N settles her chin on his chest. She's staring into his eyes, trying to find a hint of a lie, but there is none. There's only love and sadness in his green orbs.

"I love you too."

Harry sighs; there's not much they can do to brighten the mood. "You know what we can do?"

"What?"

"Make a summer bucket list. First on my list is to kiss the prettiest girl I know every day." She laughs, making Harry break out in a big grin. "Lucky for you, that happens to be you." He tells her, booping her nose with his index finger.

Y/N laughs; it's only March. She has the rest of Spring and all of Summer to love Harry. To love him with every bone and cell in her body because that last day will come sooner than she likes.

_____

The end of Summer arrived, and she bid Harry goodnight with a kiss at the door like normal, like he was going to show up tomorrow bright and early for breakfast and kisses, but that wasn't the case. It was goodbye, even though neither of them could admit it.

Y/N and Harry walked away from each other; they didn't say no contact, but it was like they both silently agreed on it because there was no letters or calls to each other, no visits to each other's homes, no visiting each other parents, at least not in the beginning

The love was there, but life goes on.

JUNE 1998

After a delicious meal and second servings, everyone sits back stuffed. Everyone enjoyed a lovely home-cooked meal with entertaining conversation. Y/N enjoyed watching it happen, not participating much in conversation. She never was that interesting, she felt, always let her friends carry the conversation. She could feel Harry glance at her from time to time, but Y/N still hasn't recovered, knowing that Harry's most prized possession at sixteen was a book she wrote a note in.

Y/N wonders if he's regretting that now.

"Have we overstayed our welcome?" Zac asks, taking Y/N's silence as something terrible.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're fine. I like listening, fascinating conversations going on."

"Come on, share something with us." Zac urges her.

"Uhh… med school has been going well. Have all of the Summer off, might do some sightseeing before going home."

"Yeah, driving home to Massachusetts instead of taking a plane like a normal person." Sydney winces at the thought, not at all wanting to think about the pit stops she had to make.

"Maybe not the smartest idea, but I encountered zero troubles; my baby, Twila, runs smoothly."

"Should get her checked out again before leaving." Harry comments.

Y/N nods. "Dad's been on my ass about that as well, but I've got no rush, especially since all I ever do here is walk around town."

"Enough car talk, let's talk about the time Zac got his clothes stolen after gym class sophomore year." Sarah sets them off on a never-ending conversation of memories.

As soon as one story is finished, a new one is being shared. Y/N forgot most of these, but as her friends tell them, she feels each memory unlock and surfacing. The conversation goes on forever, with no end in sight because that's how friendship is; it's never-ending. Especially when all they did for four years was hanging out together, creating these memories they now are so fond of.

It's around seven o'clock, the sun begins to set when everyone decides to head home. She walks them out, giving them hugs and promises of seeing each other again before everyone leaves town. Y/N notices Harry lingering by, but she doesn't say anything.

Y/N waves goodbye to Sarah and Mitch when Harry comes to stand by her. She waits for him to say goodbye, not going to rush him, which is why what he says next surprised her.

"Do you want help cleaning up?"

Harry looks shy, asking, and Y/N knows he's about to take it back, so she nods. "That'd be great."

She walks back in, and Harry follows close behind, making sure to lock the door, just in case. "I'll rinse, and you put it in the dishwasher. Okay?"

"Okay, yes."

They begin to work in silence, the only sound of the running water. Y/N wonders if he's going to stay longer or if he's going to leave right after.

God, she could really go for a glass of wine.

As Y/N hands him the last plate, she dries her hand with the red dish towel before handing a white one over to Harry, who thanks her quietly.

She leans back against the counter, debating asking him to stay for a drink or not. Harry catches her staring and smiles, unleashing the dimples. It seems he made the decision for her.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Y/N turns around, reaching up for a glass for herself, not wanting to face him just in case he rejects her.

"Wine sounds great."

Y/N grabs two stemmed wine glasses and opens the bottle of red wine rather quickly; she's surprised her hands aren't shaking because she's so nervous. She fills both glasses halfway before stepping forward to hand Harry his cup.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Harry takes a sip, humming at the taste. Y/N isn't sure where Zac got the bottle. She's just happy it tastes good.

"Do you want to sit outside, watch the sunset on the steps?"

Harry agrees and steps out, holding the door open for her. She sits down, leaving room for Harry. He leaves a small space in between them.

"I love sunsets, never the same."

"Same as sunrises."

"I'm not a morning person as I once was, a bit of a night owl." She shares.

"Oh really, why is that?"

"I'm not sure." Y/N knows that's a lie; what she wanted to say is because she has no one to wake up to. No one to give morning kisses or morning cuddles.

"You must still love mornings."

"I do." He chuckles. "I do three-mile runs each morning."

"Three!" She gasps. "I'd be tired the entire day; I prefer going on hikes or long walks."

"Used to it already."

"Pity, to your partner. Stealing cuddles from them." She mutters, taking a sip of her wine, hoping he didn't hear.

Harry wants to respond, not sure if she was asking or stating. Oh, how he wishes he could know what she was thinking.

"Didn't know you were interested in medicine, Harry."

"I wasn't, not until my injury." He rubs his shoulder as if he remembered the pain. "After finding out, I was done for; I just needed something entirely different. My physical therapist spoke about his journey to entering the field. He told me to enter something that captured my attention and something I would never get tired of learning about. It led me to psychiatry. My professors were great guidance."

"John Hopkins, right?"

"Yes, the very one."

"Tough school."

He laughs out loud, hand on his belly. "You're telling me, miss dean's list each semester. Graduating with highest honors from Harvard."

"You know me, my head always stuck in a book."

"Still don't take compliments."

"Makes me feel weird. I love what I do; I can't wait to start and just learn it all. This sponge I call my brain is ready to absorb it all."

"I'm sure you're going to do amazing."

"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She pats his knee before quickly retracting her hand back into her lap.

"Where is your residency?" Harry looks at her, a frown on his face. "Don't think I asked you."

"Well, Harvard medical was a dream, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I accepted Massachusetts General. I really love the environment they have in the hospital." She sets her wine glass down, turning her body to look at Harry. She misses the look of shock on his face. "Everyone is so kind--"

"Y/N," He tries, but she continues on.

"I went for a tour, and it was busy and crowded, but they were so kind with the children. When I entered the pediatrics ward, I just knew it's where I had to be."

"Y/N,"

"I already know who I'm going to be working under, and she's--"

"Love," Harry tries his gaze on her face hoping to get a reaction.

That shuts Y/N right up; it has been a long time since she last heard that term of endearment.

Her eyes are on Harry; he has her full attention. He can tell she's a bit stunned, but his news is life-changing. "I have my residency at Massachusetts General."

"You what?" She was not expecting that news. Harry is in the same hospital as her. "Are you saying?"

"We would have run into each other if we hadn't come home for the time capsule, yes." He answers for her.

"Fate," she whispers.

Harry nods, eyes shining with tears. That one word was enough for Harry to know she might feel the same.

He sees Y/N's eyes flicker to his lips, going back to his eyes, then leans in. He does the same, wanting to feel her close more than ever.

"Y/N, you left the-" Harry and Y/N spring apart, the moment gone started by her mother. "Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry clears his throat, standing up to offer the woman who startled him a hug. "Hello Lorelai, wonderful to see you."

"How's your mother?"

"She's well. Left yesterday to visit my nephews for the weekend."

"That's nice."

The three now stand outside together, Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels, not able to standstill.

"Truly wasn't expecting to see you," Lorelai tells him.

"We were catching up" Harry smiles at Y/N. "We were keeping each other company."

"Very kind."

"I should get going; it's late." Feeling as if he overstayed his welcome.

Lorelai senses the tension a second too late as Harry is saying his goodbyes. "Well, please do stop by before you leave town."

"Of course."

"I'll walk you out." Y/N smiles at her mother as she leads Harry out through the side gate, personally wanting to avoid a run-in with her father.

Y/N, true to her word, walks him to his car; he is about to round his car, heading to the driver's seat but stops.

"Y/N?" His voice was shaky.

"Yes, Harry."

"Let's have dinner together." He rushes out in one go.

"Harry…" She pauses, "I--"

He interrupts her. "Don't tell me you have a--" he trails off, not wanting to say the word.

"Course not." She replies quickly.

"But,"

Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a moment to get her thoughts together. "I won't do this unless this is it. This is the time I'm yours again. For good."

"You've always been mine." He steps forward, hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She lets out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace take over her body. "Eight years and no one compared. No one ever will."

"H." He can see the tears in her eyes.

"I mean it. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you. It will always be you."

Y/N closes the gap between them; they are the closest they have been in eight years. She searches his face for any sign of doubt but finds none. Only sees love in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"I love you." She confesses feeling a weight leave her shoulders as the words leave her mouth for the first time in years. "I never stopped. I will never stop."

"Sweetest words I have ever heard. Words I want to hear forever." Harry's smile is one she had never seen before; it's wide, and she swears it reaches the sky. His eyes hold a shine they never have before.

There's one last thing she needs for this moment to be perfect.

"Please kiss me."

"With pleasure."

She's never dreamed of this moment in fear of it not happening, but it finally is, and Y/N swears she feels the stars aligned just for them. Harry's lips were getting closer, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a wave of warmth. She finally felt at home. Her whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on jets as his arms wrapped around her tightly, afraid that she'd disappear. Y/N's fingers slowly moved up Harry's chest until they tangled with the back of his short curls. She tugged, needing more, feeling her legs buckle at the moan Harry let out.

All she felt was love, and she wanted to feel it forever. Y/N let Harry pull away; he didn't go far, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their breaths mix together. There's a bashful smile on Y/N's face, but this moment feels too good to be true.

Harry and Y/N stand there wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's gaze as if no one else existed and there was no risk of interruption.

"I'll be here at noon tomorrow, going to take you out if you'll let me."

"Yes, H. I accept." She kisses him softly two more times before unwrapping herself from him, putting a bit of distance between each other, or they very well would stand there all night kissing.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She confirms

Harry steals one last kiss, short and sweet, before getting in his car. He sends her a kiss that she pretends to catch and places it over her heart.

She knows he is blushing even though she can't see it.

As he drives away from her, all the hurt and pain of not having him washes away. Harry is hers, and she is his.

All is right.

Their paths finally crossed again, and this time there would be no final goodbye.

_____

Harry showed up the day after as promised. Y/N was eagerly waiting, she had felt time go slow when they had been apart, but it's a monumental day because once again, after so many years, Harry and Y/N are finally reunited.

She waited on the steps of her house like she used to when she was a teen waiting for him to pick her up and take her out on a date. It was bringing back the best memories. Harry parked right in front, and just as he was rounding his car to go meet her, she was in front of jumping in his car.

"Woah!" Harry was fast to react, only stumbling a little put holding her tight. "This is a nice welcome." He teases.

"Can you blame me? I missed you." She tells him, nuzzling her face in his neck.

"Missed you too, love. Eight years, I've missed you."

"Don't start, H. Don't want to cry. We're here now."

"You're right."

Y/N has Harry set her down; they stand there smiling at each other, taking each other in.

"Up for a drive?"

She nods. "Will you drive me to the moon?"

"Anywhere you want, angel."

Harry drives them to one place she hasn't visited because of the memory it holds. She's guessing it's because he wants to create new, better ones.

"It's still beautiful here." She looks out through the window, not wanting to leave the safety of the car. She wants to stay close to Harry.

Y/N sits in silence with Harry holding each other's hands, allowing each other to just enjoy this time together. The calmness of being loved and feeling loved. She knows there are lots to talk about, but she settles for the quietness for now.

She's not sure how much time has passed, but she's now facing Harry, and he's toying with the rose ring hanging on her neck.

"Y/N," he whispers; she lifts her gaze from his lilac nails and hums for him to go on. "I have to ask." She lets his words sit in their silence. She knows what he's asking, the same thing running through her mind.

"No." She frowns. "It felt wrong. I could never-- it was never you."

Harry can tell she feels sheepish confessing this.

She chuckles dryly. "I must sound lame; the last person I kissed was you eight years ago."

"No, it's not." He assures her.

She sighs, "Harry."

"It was the same for me. My friends tried to set me up multiple times, but it felt like cheating. No one understood."

"So you haven't…" She trails off.

"Well acquainted with my hand." He jokes.

She burst out laughing, and seconds later, Harry is as well. Their joyous laugh fills the car but also their hearts.

"I love you." She breathes out, trying to catch her breath.

"And I love you."

"Want to know a secret," she asks him.

He nods.

She turns her head to the window; she can see herself and Harry in the reflection. His eyes on her full of adoration.

"I wrote you letters, hundreds. I've lost count, really, but I've got a box full; they are locked up in mom's attic." Y/N turns, looking back at Harry; there's a soft look on his face. "I wanted to send them, but I couldn't. I didn't want to interfere."

"Darling, that's-" he chokes up, tears escaping him. "Can I read them?"

Y/N nods, "Of course, they were intended for you after all."

"Will you read them with me?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Do you want to know something now?"

Y/N reaches forward and brushes a loose curl back. "Tell me."

"Each book I've read, I have written a dedication in it for you."

"What?" She says, surprised.

"The new bookshelf in mom's living room is filled with books." He waits for her to nod before continuing on. "All books for you."

"Harry," It's her turn to cry now, it seems.

"Thought about you just as much, angel."

"Do you think we did the right thing, letting each other go?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"It brought us together again. Sure it was the time capsule, but there is also Massachusetts." He reminds her.

"Isn't that wild?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Same residency."

"It was fate, angel. Like you said last night."

"Yeah, guess fate had a plan, after all, dove."

Harry chokes up, tears welling up in his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Fate had a plan."

"After."

"Dove," she breathes out, not even noticing she slipped it in; it came out like second nature. "You're my dove, my kind man, the love of my life."

Harry grabs her face and connects his lips to hers. It's not soft; it's fast and hot but full of love. She leaned back, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Harry chases her lips, not finished yet. She lets him kiss her as he pressed soft pecks on her lips, liking the feel of her soft lips.

"Is it too soon to ask to marry you?" Harry asks, trailing kisses down her neck.

"No, never too soon." She giggles as he kisses a soft spot right under her jaw. "If I recall, I asked you one too many times during high school."

Harry chuckles, nodding. "Should have accepted sooner."

She looks at him, not being able to contain her laughter, knowing very well he should have.

"Marry me." He asks, all traces of laughter gone. He holds his breath, waiting for a response.

"Yes, of course, dove."

Harry seals it with a kiss. She accepted, and yes, it may seem rushed, but they aren't getting any younger. Their love was put on hold, and now because the time is right, they get to pick up as if no time passed at all.

They are different people, but Harry and Y/N have only become more perfect for one another.

2000 DECEMBER - MASSACHUSETTS

Her eyes snap open, and she quickly sits up, throwing the blanket off herself feeling hot and unfocused, startling Harry making him drop the Pop-Tart he was eating to fall on his chest.

She looks back at Harry, sitting up with crumbs covering his mouth and half-eaten brown sugar cinnamon sitting on top of his black sweats.

Y/N can't help but laugh at the sight in front of her, her nightmare now pushed aside.

"You're laughing." He pouts. "You gave me a proper scare."

She frowns, "I had a bad dream."

"Yeah, want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head no, instead asking him an important question. "Why are you eating Pop-Tarts in bed?" She picks up the broken half and takes a bite, appreciating the strong cinnamon flavor.

"I got hungry, but I didn't want to leave you alone, and honestly, I'd never willingly leave your cuddles."

"Did you bring me my own?" She mutters, swallowing the last piece of his.

"Why, of course, I'm no monster."

"What time are you going in today?" She asks as she opens up the package handing him half since she ate his. He happily accepts.

"Noon."

She glances at the alarm clock and sees it is only nine am. She mumbles an 'okay,' settling herself to lay her head on his chest.

"How are you spending your day off?" His hand running through her hair, always wanting to be touching her in some way.

"In bed."

Harry doesn't like that. "Still feeling sick." He states.

"Yes, but I'm fine."

"Okay, but we do work in a hospital." He playfully reminds her.

She lets out a deep sigh. "I'll have Annie check on me tomorrow."

"Thank you." He kisses her temple, definitely leaving crumbs of food behind.

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you too."

Y/N and Harry had come a long way from the Summer of 98'. They got back together and were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Their families were thrilled at the news of them getting back together and even happier when they learned about their shared residency location.

That Summer led them to where they are now; two years into their residency programs and one year into marriage.

Harry could not wait; he had wanted to take her to city hall for a quick signature but knew she deserved better. They were wed in the botanical garden under the beautiful flower arch she dreamed of. It was the wedding she always dreamed of; it was small and beautiful. Only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Their wedding photo; Harry gazing at her as if she put all the stars in the sky and Y/N smiling at the camera. It sits framed on Y/N's bedside. He decided it went there, so when he turns to look over at her, he sees all of her beauty laid out for him and the happiest day of his life.

Harry had fought her on changing her last name, wanting her to be called Doctor Y/LN because she worked for it and was a man who wanted his wife to shine and do all she set her mind to. Harry went as far as suggesting hyphenating but still no. She changed her last name to 'Styles.' Y/N told him she spent years dreaming about it in high school, even years later when he wasn't by her side. It's an honor to share his last name because one day, their future children would as well.

Y/N has a year left in her pediatrics residency, and Harry has two years to go. She has her fellowship to think about, which will add three more years; her focus on Critical Care Medicine. Harry has decided on Addiction Psychiatry which is only a year-long, but he's got his last two years to worry about first.

Life has been going well, they've had their fair share of arguments but nothing they can't fix. Harry can't say he doesn't love making up; it always leads to a good time.

They didn't know what life had in store for him but looking around at the photos they have hanging up, a picture of Mitch and Sarah's little boy Nathaniel who only gets bigger every time they see him. A photo of Sydney showing off her engagement ring, face full of tears but smile large; Zac off traveling the country smiling in his picture of him visiting the Grand Canyon part of his trip to visit each National Park and document his journey.

This group of six friends is living their dreams; at sixteen, none of them know what life would be like twelve years down the road, but if it wasn't for each of them having this friendship and deciding to bury a time capsule, they might not be where they are right not; happier and more in love than ever.

Harry and Y/N are filled with love and know life couldn't be better than it is; incredibly grateful to be in love and be loved back just the same.

Little do they know their love will soon have to be shared.

_____

Thank you so much for reading!

I love you and I hope you loved this story <3

#harry styles #timetravelathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry fluff #thank you for reading!

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cades-outsider · 3 years

Text

Eli/Hawk X Reader

Warnings: None! Just fluffy!

Time goes By

The rumors spreaded like wildfire, Y/n L/n the famous billionaire actress would be moving back in the valley where you grew up. You weren't always famous, you had actually enrolled for a character in a famous movie and from there you kept getting roles from other directors from left and right.

Your longtime and long distance boyfriend Eli didn't know what to think, I guess you both still considered each other as still together but Eli always felt insecure knowing you were around better looking boys so he quit texting, calling, or replying.

He cried almost every night as you called and he watched the caller I'd ring. Eventually you stopped calling as often as you called, you'd call every once and a while and he'd never answer but you never fully stopped trying to get back him back.

You hadn't known about Eli's transformation yet, he didn't call or update you on anything and how were you supposed to know anything.

Anyways, you finally decided to move back to the valley your hometown. Now since you were very well known people kept up with you, they knew where you were going and what you were doing most likely.

After about hours of flying you finally landed, you wanted to surprise one of your best friends before you had left which was Sam.

You gently knocked on the door waiting only for a second before Mrs. LaRusso opened the door. "Y/n? Oh it's been so long!" Amanda exclaims and she pulls you in a hug to which you reciprocate.

"How have you been? I see that your dream came true!" She exclaims as you both pull away from the hug.

"Yeah I've been great! And it's been amazing" You respond happily.

"That's wonderful, Sam is in her room if you were wondering!" Amanda says as she lets you in.

"Thank you!" You say sweetly as you walk up the stairs entering Sams room.

Sam hears her door open and turns her attention to the door from her computer and her face brightens "Y/n! You're back!" She yells as she rushes towards you pulling you in a hug.

"I am!" You exclaim as she pulls you towards her bed, already gossiping about her new friends she made and something called Cobra Kai?

A couple hours later you were super tired so you decided to hitch a ride from Sam to which she gladly excepted as she drove you to your apartment.

"Thank you Sam! I owe you one!" You say as you rush into your apartment.

You close the door with a sigh as you fall onto your couch in exhaust meant, you place your phone on the table as you stare at the screen debating on if you should text Eli.

After minutes of contemplating you decided to send him a message to which it read 'Hey Eli! I'm in town you should come by! My address is the same!' You internally cringe at the message but none the less you press send.

Even though it was only 3 pm it felt like it should've been later, you sigh in exhaustion as you get up and change into some comfortable clothes.

As Hawk gets ready to pack up from karate practice he checks his phone as he gets a ding, he opens the message and his heart immediately flutters as he reads what's before him.

He didn't know how you would react to his knee look, he hoped you like it because he still cared for you. He decides not to send a message back but to surprise you with a semi unknown visit.

About an hour later a knock on your front door pulls you out of your favorite show, pressing pause you go over to your door opening it to see someone who looked like Eli with a red Mohawk?

Your eyes widen "Eli?" You question as he nods bashfully, his older Eli side coming out.

"Hey Y/n, it's me" He reply's as you let him in closing the door.

"Wow, I mean you look great but what-?" You question sweetly.

"The bullying got worse when you left Y/n... I couldn’t handle it. So I joined Cobra Kai, a karate dojo and I decided to flip the script and if I’m being honest... I feel the change" He explains somewhat guilty.

"What do you mean feel the change?" You ask now confused.

"I haven’t been a very good person now that I’ve distracted people from my lip..." Eli explains looking down.

"Some of that is mostly my part Eli... I am so sorry that I left you on such short notice and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to do something when you were getting hurt I’m also sorry for-"

Your rant gets stopped by Eli placing his lips on yours to which you place your hand on his cheek pulling him closer as you move your lips against his before pulling away breathless.

"It’s okay Y/n, really I’m just glad you got your dream" He smiles.

"My dream was never complete without you Eli..." You blush at your sentence.

Eli blushes as he looks down before taking notice of his sweaty body "do- do you mind if I take a shower?" He questions nervously.

"No not at all, do you still remember the way?" you tease.

Eli chuckles bashfully "I think I do.." he interjects playfully.

You nod as he leads himself to the bathroom, you go to your kitchen grabbing some snacks for you and Eli when he gets out the shower.

Soon running water was the only thing that could be heard throughout your apartment, it was almost calming as you laid your head on the couch in a trance from how excited you were to be back and have Eli back into your life once again.

The water cut off all to soon, just then you realize it’s been passed twenty minutes, as if on cue Eli walks out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

Water dripping from his torso and his now wet dyed hair as he looks around nervously as he tightens his grip on the towel around his waist.

"I- I left my bag in here-" He stutters as he walks over to the door grabbing his gym back.

You nod as he walks back into the bathroom closing the door, your eyes widen as you place your hands on your redden cheeks mouth wide open.

You always loved Eli’s body because he was him and he’s handsome, but with all the karate he must’ve got not ripped but well toned up.

You internally fan girl scream at your man, soon Eli returns and you quickly take your hands off your face and maintain a small not to noticeable smile.

"Can I- can I cuddle you?" He asks nervously as he shuffles on his feet back and forth.

You smile as your heart warms "always" You reply as you open your arms to which he immediately enters and straddles your waist and he wraps his arms around your shoulder and buries his face in your neck like old times.

A couple minutes go by of comfortable silence as you both just cuddle, admiring each other’s touch. Soon you lift up Eli’s chin with your finger bringing his face in length of yours.

Your eyes lock, almost like you feel apart of you connecting that you haven’t felt in so long as Eli’s wet hair drips everywhere and sticks to his face.

You move the piece of hair from his beautiful face and press a loving kiss against his lips before pulling back and kissing his scar that he always hated.

"Eli you’re beautiful... like you always were to me" You mumble as he finally lets go as tears spill out of his eyes that he didn’t know were there.

"I-I love you Y/n, I missed you so much" He whimpers out as he places a shaky kiss on your soft lips.

"I missed you so much baby, and I love you more" You say as Eli cuddles into your embrace more.

After a while Eli falls asleep and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world as you hold the boy you’ve always loved in your arms. The sound of Eli’s warm heartbeat lures you into a deep sleep, awaiting for this moment to never end.

This makes you realize that time goes by too fast...

_______________________________________________

This was requested by @dommie14 thank you for requesting I hope you enjoyed!

#wattpad #robby keene #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk #tiktok #x reader #masterlist #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #fluffy #happy #sad #emotions #requested #requests closed #closed

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namjoonchronicles · 3 years

Text

late | th

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, dad Taehyung

↳ words 4k

↳ summary a trip back to hometown for a friend turned into something memorable which embarked something deep in Taehyung’s heart.

↳ notes i discussed the premise of this story with my good friend @hellotherehoneybee and based on her ideas, i prolonged the length and added some plots to push a heavy turn so appropriately, the summary here is thanks to her.

↳ warning mentions of childbirth, vivid descriptions of the scene, major character death

↳ song taylor swift ‘gold rush’, imagine dragons ‘levitate’, taio cruz ‘telling the world’, taylor swift ‘ you’re in love’

“Taehyung… tea?”

Sand cuffed the shore. Half painted coast on the canvas. The wind blew rather harshly and every strike of wind, Taehyung’s wild mane of hair ruffled against themselves. They were long enough to cover his eyes but it didn’t stop him from painting the colours on his canvas. He blinks at the view of the sea and how it doesn’t change despite the years passed by. He wore slippers with an open toe, a baggy shirt and baggy trousers. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Sunken cheeks and empty eyes, his jaw was immaculate and his face was crafted by God. He is beautiful in this light. So beautiful.

“What are you drawing so seriously?” you asked. But no answers from him. As it should.

Six, maybe ten years back, this caravan was parked here. Pair of hands raised to the ceiling. The sunlight sieved through the blinds. The pair laced themselves, and toyed around. The make out of the knuckles under this light, showed how veiny his hands were than yours. Small chuckles and soft whispers accommodate the serene and tranquil moment. The caravan was parked by the sea. His easel leaned against the kitchen counter next to the sink. His whole body covered yours as you snuggled in bed. You thumbed his supple cheeks and traced the shape of his lips as he lay half-awake. You ran your index finger down the slope of his pretty nose and counted his eyelashes, you lined the edges of his brows and ran your hand through the locks of his brown hair that looked lighter in the sun. He moans sweetly at your touch.

You proceed to trace your fingers down the helix of his ears, his excellent jaw lines and chin. There's prickling hair ends at the chin and you thought that he might need a shave. You remembered how bad he was at shaving. You even suggested that he should stop shaving all the way. The smile he had on when you said it was priceless. Then he remembered that society wouldn’t have allowed him to live. Taehyung’s eyes half-opened at the stimulating touch. He breaks a smile in his sleepy state and he crunches his nose at the view of you. You swore, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. He nuzzles into your face and neck, planting kisses where he can and he spoke, in his drowsiness, “I’m so sleepy.”

He gets on top of you and buries his face in your neck. Through lighthearted giggles, you say, “You’re heavy, big bear…” While making no effort to push him away. He feels like a weighted blanket you always wanted when you’re younger. Warm and snuggly. Gentle and tender. He smells like a pillow and his hair is soft. He loves it when your fingers thread through his hair, just caressing the glorious length, he’ll make sounds that are so lovely. You brushed your lips on top of his head and one arm around him. They never meet the total length of his shoulders because they were too broad. So you end up scratching the fabric of his thin shirt. Had the weather been warm enough, he would have rather slept in his skins. You whispered softly, as you felt him drifting back to sleep in his new found comfort, “If you don’t get up now, we are going to be very late…”

And we won’t be able to help around like we planned.

Jeju’s beaches are breathtakingly beautiful. Especially in Handam. Where the waters are brilliant blue and the skies azure. The black rocks, rubbles, kissing the shore. It would make a fine painting, this scenery. Taehyung poked his head out the caravan door at you,

“I thought you said we’re late?”

You glanced over your shoulder and gave him a sheepish smile. Jogging lightly back into the caravan, you pinched his sides as you walked in.

In fact, you weren’t late. You were not late at all. Taehyung’s eyes had always been inviting. Beautiful brown irises so encapsulating they almost felt unreal. It was those eyes that your friends recognised. They quickly adopted him once he carried in all the groceries like he is one of them. The crowd roars as they see you because they know it will shrink you. You were never good at crowds, so you covered your ears and physically shrunk while laughing till your eyes turned to crescents on their own. Quickly, the host came to the rescue, gathering you in her arms and calling off those people that are bothering you. At once, Taehyung had disappeared to make new friends and greet the old ones.

“A baby shower, this late?” you stared at your friend, Junhee quizzically. She pursed her lips and stared off to the corner of the room while tucking your arm in hers.

“I wanted an excuse to see my good friend,” she said with a cunning grin, then she cowers, falls silent in a sudden, her palm rubbing over her swollen belly. Nine months in, any day now. You knew in your heart that it was a bad idea, but still, her husband, Jimin, felt like it was okay to hold these gatherings for her. Jimin would do anything to make her happy. Then, she hisses. And you start to cower over her, pulling the chair closer for her to sit.

“Is it the contraction? Has any contraction happened today?”

“No, this is the first…”

Junhee seemed to have calmed down after she rested. You still wanted to talk to Jimin if you had the time, asking why he’d think it was a good idea to hold the party anyways. You had your answer when he walked in, snapping the fridge door open for a cold drink refill.

“She looked so miserable these past few days, I just wanted to see her smile,” Jimin carried two bottles of fruit punch as he brushed shoulders with you. Then, a toddler came crawling in, on all fours, stopping just by your feet and falling onto her bum and sat. Her twinkling eyes ushers you to carry her up.

“Where did you come from, little one?” You cooed. She curls up to your neck, and starts babbling. Then you suddenly felt her little hand roaming around your clothed boobs, and when she felt she found the tip, she began suckling. And you laughed out loud. Loud enough to have everyone's attention on you, including Taehyung’s. The baby’s mother rushed to you in her loose ponytail, handling another two slightly older children that were at her feet. One is tugging at her blouse and the other wailing so loud, you became concerned. You helped her into a nursing room, Jimin’s wife had prepared. It was a short tattling walk away from where you were. The baby was hungry. She’s four months old and today was her first day out since she was born and was brought home. You were glad that the number of guests didn’t scare one bit.

Taehyung had distributed the barbecued sausages to the kids around. He had the sharp sticks taken out and was helping to blow the heat from the sausages from one of the kids. He looks pretty much at home with everything. It’s probably been awhile because he finally saw you out the room carrying the baby, her little stodgy fingers curled around your thumb and she is gurgling. What a beautiful sight it was. It seemed you might have heard his thoughts when you looked up to the side and had the baby waved to Taehyung. He chuckles through his nose and crinkles his eyes at the little one, making a funny face. The little toddler extended her short petite arms and grabbed air repeatedly at Taehyung’s presence. Then you motioned her closer to Taehyung.

“I think she wants you to carry her…”

“Me?” He sounded unsure, uncertain, but, he brushed invisible dust off his palm on his butt and, “It’s been awhile but. Okay.” Arms open, collecting the toddler in.

The pinkish hue of her skin, her soft supple cheek, her little angel hairband, and twinkling, gleaming smile. Taehyung memorised her scent like a wolf would to a pup, with his eyes shut, his nose nudging on her softness. His arms held her gently but firmly. It felt like there was only him and the baby, he shut every other sound. When he held that baby, there’s stillness in the air, the noises ceased to exist, the visions clouded and the heaven’s hinted; it was his calling. It felt very much like sinking and flying at the same time. It was as if the world stood still, the time stopped and the anticipation grew. A lifetime in a second. Gold rush, a dam broke and first rain in the desert. Taehyung eyes fluttered open to the view of the baby’s rosy cheeks and immediately searched for you. Any semblance of you.

But you were kneeling by Jimin’s wife laying body on the floor.

Taehyung padding over the wooden balcony into the living room. In daze, Taehyung passed the baby over to her mother and closed into you. Your mouth was moving but for some reason, his brain couldn’t string the words. You were screaming but he heard nothing until seconds after.

“Call 911!” You ordered. There was a puddle of water where she once stood.

Meanwhile, you’re massaging her tummy. Jimin’s at the other end, and people pooling in to watch. The men are asked to wait outside with the kids for the ambulance. Taehyung had his hand on the house phone, and as he tried to arrange his words, his attention flew to you and your alarmed eyes. Your lips read,

“Speak slowly… clearly.”

The dial tone ended and, “We need. Ambulance. Birth. A woman is giving birth, please send in an ambulance.” He turns to you again and right now, you have all the ladies lined up.

“Okay, listen. Towels, all of it, blankets, pillows, sterile gloves, plastic bags, and Jimin,” you listed. Everyone spreads around to get everything. Towels from upstairs, blankets from the laundry room, pillows from the guest room and plastic bags from the kitchen drawers. Even Jimin who was outside waiting for the ambulance is being carried in by Jungkook. Taehyung handed a plastic cup of water. Jimin has his wife’s head cradled in his lap, padded with pillows and she’s holding her hand.

“I told you this was a good idea…” she joked, “I only trust her around…”

“I have only delivered a baby once in my life and that was in nursing school, that does not mean this was a correct choice, Junhee…” you half scolded her.

“I wouldn’t have it in any other way,” she said with a big smile before she hisses in pain and clenching around Jimin’s fingers. Then she groaned till veins were popping on her forehead. Jimin kept on peppering kisses and wiping her sweat with warm water. She continues to wretch and shiver. She felt cramps in her abdomens, churning. So she retched. What a relief she had her husband on the side. Jimin’s whispering words of affirmations and it really helped her calm down. Although she is really not far from giving birth. She is 9 centimetres dilated.

“Where is the ambulance?” You asked in a rushed tone.

“Any minute now!” Someone at the door informed.

That’s not good enough. She will be 10 centimetres in no time and if the ambulance isn’t here by then, the baby will drown. She is perfectly ready for vaginal delivery, you grab a towel, place it underneath her openings and tell her to push until she feels the contraction. Work with the contraction and push as hard as she could. You also massaged to make sure the baby’s head was out first. From the physical examinations, the baby’s head is visible. All that’s left to do is for Junhee to push. You thought her the breathing method, and counted with her. Even Jimin’s following suit.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. You can do this…” you reminded her, “And then we’re gonna go again, okay?”

“I think I’m going to vomit…” Jimin fetches the bag from the side and vomits. Taehyung gulped, watching the fiasco from the side. He watches his wife carefully guiding, and assuring and giving space towards the mother to feel as comfortable as she can.

Junhee was obedient and she was cooperating. She was entirely under your care. You can see from her eyes that she trusted you with her life. She had been, ever since you knew her. And now, she entrusted you with her life and her baby’s life. Junhee delivers a big push and this time the baby slides out into your arm along with it’s placenta. The detachment is healthy, and you quickly glance to the time, on the grandpa’s clock on the corner,

“Someone note the time!”

“3:47PM!”

You placed the baby on his mother’s arm, a healthy baby boy. Another warm towel on his tiny body and his mom’s tired laugh. He is red and warm and crying, lungs are not congested. But still you need to wait for the ambulance. You placed the placenta into the bag Taehyung opened and told Jimin to hold them up. You refused to cut the umbilical cord without proper tools. It’s not sterile here to do so and there’s no medical back-up should anything go wrong. You told everyone to stay put until the ambulance arrived. Taehyung caught your eyes from across the room and slowly, you drew a smile on your face, contradicting his worried one. And again, in this lifetime, even when he was most concerned about you, you told him with your eyes that you’re okay. Even at this distance.

“Who delivered the baby?” the ambulance personnel yelled, his voice seeped in, through the windows to you, while you were cleaning up the living room.

Taehyung rushed to the door with a panicked look on his face and you sprinted out.

They gave you the scissors.

“The ma’am wanted you to cut the umbilical cord instead of the father, will you do the honors?” The man in medical assistant uniform smiled at you. You took the scissors in your hand and you glanced up at her, tears welling up in your eyes and you cried, “Yes, of course, yes…”

“She’s a retired nurse, I never once worried about my life when she’s around,” Park Junhee boasted as she was carried into the ambulance. Jimin climbed in, too. You followed the ambulance close while Taehyung drove Jimin’s car. It’s to help them later, if Jimin needs to return home. Taehyung left the car parked in the hospital parking area and climbed into your shared caravan. He offered to drive. And as he was driving, and talking about how cool you were as the night fell, he heard nothing from your side. You had already fallen asleep. Defeated by the tiredness. He stops at the same spot this morning and lowered your chair. He fetches a blanket from the bed and tucked you in warm. You moaned and switched to your side. He leans over you and plants a firm kiss on your head. As you swam deeper in your slumber, the stars twinkling in the sapphire blue sky, the moon stood witness to the feeling Taehyung had over you. He lowered his own chair to watch you sleep with a smile and fondness in his eyes.

His soft curls fall over the hood of his eyes, touching the bridge of his nose as he clamors in renewed emotions he felt for you. Such pure love, the kind that authors would write about in novels, many years ago. He is so in love, his feet are levitating from the ground it seemed. One of those wishes thrown at the shooting skies had come true. Broken pieces of him, finally held together, and the last piece was in a form of a person. He extended his arm to reach yours, and you took them in like a soft toy. He gladly cuffed himself to you, it's been his fate. Lips, body and soul, is yours. The bell resonated from the far back of his mind, of when soulmates found each other. His heart thumping so loudly he feared you might have heard them. You have stirred something inside him he doesn’t quite understand yet. Rain or snow, storms or deserts, it's your hand he wanted to hold. He wants to create a home so comfy for you and maybe, in between you two, a baby that’s both his and yours. Someone to carry his name. Symphonies of violin when he watches you sleep. Like an orchestra coming together.

Walking down the street in the morning, you wore beige knitted cardigan, hands intertwined. He swings your hand with a big toothy grin on his face. His soft curls flying in the wind, his deep chuckle sparking your insides with excitement. You wanted to choose a gift for Jimin and Junhee’s baby boy who is now at the hospital. With this man’s hand who made your heart ascend in the small of your back, it felt like you could do anything. An older woman who was also a customer in the small shop gave you both a big smile.

“Newly weds?” She asked.

“Why? Do we seem like so?” You asked her warmly.

“We've been married for almost 2 years now…” Taehyung corrected her.

The older woman chuckled, and then her smile faltered, crestfallen on a vision it seemed, “Such soulmates are rare… You looked so good together, such a beautiful couple…” Taehyung wanted to buy a small necklace for the older women. He grabbed one that caught his eyes and dashed out the shop’s door, but the old woman had disappeared.

��She walked really fast for someone her age…” Taehyung spoke to himself, squinting hard at the distance in both directions. To see if there’s any semblance of the friendly old woman anywhere. It’s like she vanished. When he returned to the shop, you asked him to buy you a glass ball with a bear reading and confettis inside. It was nothing special for Taehyung but you wanted it so he bought them without much thought. In the caravan, it was placed on the dashboard with a double tape, securely glued.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we have our own little one?” Taehyung stared at his friend Jimin, cooing his little baby.

“Could we?” Your smile faded as you bore into the view of the glass. You turned to him with a broken smile, “At my age?”

“You’re not as old as you think you are…” Taehyung said. And did he prove them well. Nine months later, you were holding his arm as you walked out of the apartment door with Jimin’s wife on the phone, telling you that she had arrived. Unlike her, you wanted to be at the hospital when the water broke. The same beige cardigan you wore on her child’s birthday,you wore today. It’s already old and strings were coming out at the ends but you insisted. Taehyung carried you bridal style into the car, towels ready. His arms were yours to clench on and while you were groaning, he was biting his lips at the same force. You clawed into his flesh as he calmed you down. Jimin was driving and his wife was teaching you the same breathing method you taught her. You plastered your face into Taehyung’s neck. Hair stuck into your forehead as you sweat profusely, fighting through the incessant pain.

“Please hurry Jimin, please hurry…” Taehyung begged.

“I have the hazard lights on, we will make it on time, don’t worry bud…” Jimin said in a rushed tone.

In the delivery room, Taehyung was dressed in all blue, masks and gloves, just like the doctors and nurses. There’s only his eyes, but you recognise them so well. One look, in that delivery room, meant only for you. Light hearted jokes and hand held tight. He pressed his lips on your whitened knuckles the whole time. His tears fell like diamonds as he watches you push with all your strength, a baby that is his. No words exchanged, but you saw enough. He was in love, so direly in love. Memories flash in the back of your mind, under clenched eyes, kisses on the sidewalks, love declarations under the heavy rain. The way he lifts you to the sky in that storm, slowly sliding you down his body, enough for you to place your forehead on his. His wide gaping smile, drenched in the night under the lamp post, warm wafts of breaths escaped his lips. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him hard. You couldn’t hear what the midwives are saying, but you know one thing, this is the ultimate gift you could give the man that has given you everything.

One last push, and a shrilling tiny cry accompanied. Taehyung looked at you and linked his forehead on yours. You’ve gone pale. So pale. Your lips were blue and your eyes were drooping. You are coming in and out of consciousness. The doctors had to lead Taehyung out of the delivery room, they had to perform operations. You were too tired to continue pushing. But before he leaves, you brushed your lips on his left cheek, and you tell him in your last bits of strength,

“I-I love you. So-so much...Thank you…”

Taehyung’s hand was separated from yours. He was grabbing air just as yours were holding out.

Today.

“Taehyung, tea?” His mother greeted him. He and his easel in use. He shook his head. And from inside the caravan. Small pair of hands curled on the handles, to push the door open. Carrying a beige cardigan. Four feets putting on shoes and padded to their father. With brown irises twinkling at Taehyung’s back, no older than four years old, Taehyung glanced over his shoulder and spread his arms. One in each arm.

You watched them from the caravan, and it felt like you were right there. You could almost touch him, his hair, the slope of his nose. The babies. The babies are all grown. You could almost smell the sea. The breeze you knew so well. But you can’t.

Six years ago.

Taehyung returned home with the babies. Dressed in all black, he has to head back out again, to send his wife. When he returned, he saw the babies sleeping on their side, covered by the beige cardigan. He rushes outside to where the caravan’s were. His mother caught him just in time as he fell to the ground, shivering and calling out your name repeatedly. His mother cradles him in her lap.

“Release, my child. Release your agony…” Taehyung’s mother cradled her baby boy in her arms and Taehyung let out a cry, heart-thumping, guttural screaming cry as he let out the grief he had kept in the silent since he saw your casket lowered, six-feet underground, a baby in his arms, sleeping, coddled in her late mother’s knitted cardigan she wore when she was at the hospital, trying to have her. Taehyung looked up at the sky that strangely bright day, and a single drop of rain fell to the left side of his cheek where his wife had kissed before she went away.

God is neither late nor early.

God took one of His angels back home to Him. Left two behind in Taehyung’s care.

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inviberu · 3 years

Text

not so fast.

Once, he was left alone by someone who he thought would stay with him forever. 'Humans are so... fickle,' he thinks. And there was no way—absolutely no way—he was going through that a second time. Not when it's you, of all people.

Note: Written for my friend, @bobaryn ! Happy Birthday again, I hope I did Mithryn justice 🥺❤️

i. mimi-chan's problems

Mithra, the second strongest wizard in the world, only second to Oz. A Northerner at the very core, egoistic and relies on brute strength to solve all of his problems without thinking twice about the alternatives. Mithra… the man who now stood in front of Ryn's door, waiting patiently for her to come out. Or maybe that wasn't the case at all—he wasn't a very patient man, after all.

Birthdays, birthdays… How curious. Mithra never striked anyone as the type to celebrate anyone's birthday no matter how close they were; troublesome as they are. One year meant nothing to a wizard, a year can pass by in a blink of an eye but perhaps what makes it different this time is that the one he holds closest to his heart is not a wizard but, in fact, a human.

Humans barely reached a hundred years. And even then, they would be too old to the point that Mithra thinks that they're just walking corpses. It didn't matter much to him before, there was no reason for him to think about the lives of humans when he was too busy trying to kill Oz. But to think that something as trivial as this would scare him—Owen and Bradley would laugh at him to no end.

Humans barely reached a hundred. Humans. Ryn. Ryn, his love, was a human. Was she to turn into a walking corpse one day as well? Humans were much more fragile. One small push and there was the tiniest bit of chance that they would fall to their doom and die.

'Fickle… How so very fickle,' Mithra thought. As much as he didn't like to admit it, the thought scared him. If it was possible, he didn't want to celebrate her birthday at all because all it did was remind him that she was aging and her lifespan is reduced by a year yet again. She can't leave him, he wouldn't let her even if she wanted to.

Although it's very difficult, there was a way for wizards to make a concoction to prolong a human's life. Mithra would travel to every nook and cranny of the world just to find the ingredients, it was a small price to pay for her unchanging affection that would preferably last a thousand years. Even though these were his current thoughts, he quickly got reminded that Ryn did not like it whenever he talked about this kind of thing during her birthday.

It felt too depressing for a supposedly happy occasion like a birthday. Mithra could only let out a sigh and threw his head back, crossing his arms as he tried to think of various ways to bring the topic up without accidentally dampening the mood.

… Wait. Why is he thinking so much? Sometimes even Mithra himself gets baffled whenever he realizes just how much he cares about the Sage. It felt unbelievable to some degree and at times, he wanted to get rid of her and his feelings but thankfully the more sane side of him won that internal debate. Love. What a despicable thing. Mithra wanted to throw it outside the window.

Feelings were a hindrance. They do nothing but make him feel vulnerable and weak. They become weaknesses—

"Mimi-chan, I'm sorry for making you wait!"

—and give him something to protect.

And there was his precious gem right in front of him, standing tall and proud. Beautiful as ever as it shined brightly with that smile of hers. Mithra stared at her blankly.

"Is that a new outfit?"

"Yeah! I thought that I should change my outfit a bit since it's my birthday after all." Ryn replied enthusiastically. Mithra smiled gently.

"It suits you."

ii. mimi-chan's hometown

"Was there a particular reason why you chose to come here of all places during your birthday?" Ryn would've froze to death had it not been for the fact that she was sticking to Mithra like glue with magic to keep her warm. No sounds could be heard as white stretches as far as the eye can reach; the North always felt so frightening.

But even frightening things have their own charms no matter how they look to people. The deathly white felt ethereal to some extent, like an untouchable beauty that can kill you within seconds. Seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses has its perks.

"Because it's where you grew up. Last time we went here, we couldn't go to the land of the dead, right? I thought that maybe I can use this opportunity to go there with you today. Do you not want to?"

"... No, I'd be happy to." Mithra's eyes widened. "But are you sure this is how you want to spend your birthday…?"

"I want to know more about you, what better way than to go to where you grew up? Plus, you seemed really happy when I told you I wanted to visit last time…"

Mithra smiles. Why is it that she focuses on him during her birthday of all days? It wasn't as if he minded it though, he was glad to have the opportunity to show her around. He let out a satisfied sigh as he grabbed her hand and started to walk across the surface of the lake.

"Alright. I'll have you know everything about me."

"W-Wait, Mimi-chan!" She couldn't slow him down. Not when he was absolutely ecstatic to show her the land of the dead. Her embarrassed face was left unnoticed by him.

iii. mimi-chan's promise

Perhaps the real challenge for Mithra was the fact that he still couldn't find the perfect time to tell her about that concoction even as they continued to wander around the North Country. There wasn't much to fear when the second strongest wizard is by your side but maybe he was the one with fears this time around. His hand wrapped around hers… it felt so small and fragile as if she could break any moment.

The scenery of her smiling happily amidst the snow, it was something he hoped he would never forget knowing that poor memory of his. If she were to leave this world one day, would he forget her name as well? It disturbed him. Why was he so disturbed? Love? Was love supposed to instill this much fear in him?

"Mimi-chan, I think it's time to leave—" Before she could finish her statement, Mithra grabbed her wrist.

"Don't leave." Ryn stared at him, baffled. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face into his chest.

"I'm not going anywhere." She reassured him.

"... Can you promise me that?"

"As long as you promise me something too. Promise me that you'll stay with me for a thousand years to come."

Mithra paused. A gentle smile taking over his lips.

"I promise."

He had another weakness yet again. Though, this time, it didn't feel bad. It was a small price to pay for an eternity with her, after all.

#mhyk #mhyk writing #my writing #mithra #mhyk mithra #i should start adding custom tags but...? hm #I'll try 'my writing' out first

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morfinwen · 3 years

Note

OC Name: Ian, Lauren, Q, Niner, and Ash.

Wow, this one's old! But answered at last.

Ian

Something really awesome he can do: His coworkers are certainly amazed by his ability to remain in Lauren’s presence when she’s in a temper, let alone how he can talk to her without getting murdered, or even -- sometimes -- calm her down.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: Squirrels. Growing up, he named all the ones he saw in his backyard, and would watch them for hours. He’d love to do the same now, but as an adult with bills he doesn’t have the time. He does have a bird feeder out in his yard specifically for the squirrels.

A secret he’s hiding: No secrets -- Ian wouldn’t be able to keep one if he had it.

Something he truly fears: Something bad happening to his parents.

A fond memory of his: The first time his parents drove to visit his mom’s parents on the Tennessee/Kentucky border. It’s a cozy memory of scenery passing in a blur, what seemed like a continuous stream of snacks and juice boxes, switching between CDs of his and his parents’ favorite music, and listening to his mom and dad tease and flirt with each other (subtle enough to fly over the head of a seven-year-old who still thought kissing was icky).

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The sanctuary of the church where he grew up. It’s where he was baptized, and where he played guitar during some very moving services.

A dream or ambition for the future: Perform on live TV.

An angsty fact about him: He and Lauren had a falling out in their second year of college. I hesitate to say it was over Protestantism and Catholicism; it was, at least to some degree, but it was also about worldview, the nature of God, the role of tradition and conscience, and perhaps most of all it was about what we owe to people we disagree with. They’d argued about religion before, but it wasn’t until then that they actually understood enough to do more than rebut “Pastor Andrews says” with “Father Vernon says”, and for it to matter enough to them to blow up as much as it did. It took months for them to reconcile, partially because of stubbornness and uncertainty of how to fix things, but also because schoolwork and practice meant they didn’t have the time to figure it all out.

A domestic fact about him: Ian almost always keeps most, if not all, of his windows open. Even when it’s cold (for Tennessee) or raining. It can make things cold, and the smell isn’t always great, but he insists it’s too stuffy otherwise. Lauren is pretty sure it’s a psychosomatic thing.

A random other fact: He once had a dream where he was a dog, Lauren was a cat, and they escaped from their owners to travel the world together. It would’ve made a good movie.

Lauren

Something really awesome she can do: Play Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu (Op. 66) completely from memory.

A person, creature, or thing she adores: Not sure if “adore” is quite the right word, but one of the most important people to Lauren, outside of Ian and her immediate family, is Father Vernon from her family’s parish. He’s known her family since before she was born, listened to their confessions, counseled her parents, baptized her and her siblings. Every weekend she drives the couple hours it takes to her hometown so she can attend Mass at Father Vernon’s church.

A secret she’s hiding: She’s written songs … about fictional characters. She even composed a suite of music for a pair of fictional characters’ wedding.

Something she truly fears: Permanent damage to her hands. Her music teacher once mentioned a friend of hers who couldn’t play the piano anymore after something heavy fell on his hands. If Lauren was the type of person to have nightmares based on things she heard, that certainly would have given her nightmares.

A fond memory of hers: Her grandparents would have a picnic sometime in June, every year. It wasn’t always enjoyable, between the long car drive there with all of her siblings jammed into a cramped place, and the potential for bugs, sunburn, and bad weather, but the park was beautiful, there were so many other kids around that there was always someone to play with even if everyone else had annoyed you, and when it got to be evening they would all gather around, play music, and sing.

A place or item which gives her strong feelings: Mrs. G’s music classroom at the elementary school. In addition to band during school weeks, it was also where Lauren had her piano lessons with Mrs. G on the weekends.

A dream or ambition for the future: She doesn’t think winning a Grammy award is out of the question someday.

An angsty fact about her: From first grade until she graduated college, she believed herself to be her parents’ least favorite child. Even now, it’s not so much that she doesn’t believe it as she doesn’t think it’s worth it to spend time and energy thinking about it.

A domestic fact about her: In order to have room for a keyboard in her apartment, she gave up on having a dining table, so she eats all over the place. She’s good about taking bowls and plates back to the kitchen, but there’s constantly cups and silverware lying around the living areas.

A random other fact: She hates her middle name. “Eleanor” sounds like an old lady name, not least because she’s named after one of her mother’s great-aunts, who is quite old, and has the kind of personality that suggests she was born gray-haired, wrinkled, and talking about “in the old days”.

Something really awesome he can do: He is trained in the use of multiple types of swords. It was a quid pro quo with his aunt and uncle: Q spoke to his politically-connected buddy from boarding school and got the ball rolling on an exemption from some nasty tariffs, they arranged for sword fighting lessons for a year. He never participated in any tournaments or anything (too much publicity), but he can say without undue pride that he got to be pretty good.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: “Adore” doesn’t really describe how Q feels about anything.

A secret he’s hiding: He’s not exactly hiding it, but he isn’t open about precisely how rich and powerful his aunt and uncle are, or how many famous (or in the case of some of his cousin’s criminal friends, infamous) people he knows through them.

Something he truly fears: Just the idea of being buried alive freaks him out.

A fond memory of his: He’s got some good memories of some summer holidays during his time at boarding school. Occasionally Q got invited to tag along with someone, a friend of his cousin or a fellow classmate, on their vacation to some super rich resort in some beautiful, exotic location. He’d still hear from his aunt and uncle regularly, and he always had to be well-behaved, but it was less than when he was at school -- at his age, just hanging out with rich and influential people counted as “networking” to his aunt and uncle, so they’d call in to check on him regularly but otherwise left him alone, and in a less formal setting than school “well-behaved” was an easier standard to meet. While parts of those summers were genuinely enjoyable for him, years of living hand to mouth a hairsbreadth away from sleeping on a street corner has added a much rosier shine to those days sleeping in five-star hotels and eating haute cuisine.

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The family pile. It was where his dad spent his summers, so spending his own summers there growing up was one of the few times he felt connected to his parents. He’s also spent a significant number of holidays and family parties there, so it’s also associated with the exacting standards of his aunt and uncle and the strain of Keeping Up Appearances.

A dream or ambition for the future: He likes to imagine his aunt and uncle getting taken down a peg (or two, if he's particularly angry with them; sometimes he dares indulge the thought of three), though he struggles to imagine a scenario where that happens without notable repercussions.

An angsty fact about him: Virtually all of his t-shirts are band t-shirts, including bands he doesn’t listen to, bands he’s never heard of, foreign bands, fictional bands, and bands with potentially offensive names or symbols (though he usually only wears those at home or when he can be pretty sure he can keep his jacket closed all day). During his time in LA, one of his roommates asked if he wore them because, as an orphan who grew up in boarding schools, it was the closest he got to feeling like he belonged to something. The precise wording was kinder than that, but it still kickstarted a realization that rocked Q’s world for a couple days.

A domestic fact about him: He’s kind of weird about household chores in general. Despite his best efforts not to be as dismissive as his aunt and uncle, he still grew up in an atmosphere of "The Help does that," and it led to a steep learning curve when he moved out after graduation. He’s on top of dishes now and has a good handle on laundry, but sweeping and vacuuming require active thought, he barely registers that mopping is an actual thing, and unless "swipe hand over surface then brush hand off on pants" counts, he has never dusted.

A random other fact: Thanks to growing up outside the occult community, Q is unaware of the various taboos and 'bad words' within the community, and more than once says something offensive. Fortunately, this never creates any real issues for him, as everyone he does it to or in front of is aware he's not doing it maliciously. In fact, to most of them it's more like a small child 'swearing' because they misunderstood or mispronounced something, or saying something offensive out of innocent ignorance. Q is not best pleased when he finds out: being unintentionally offensive is one thing, being unintentionally adorable is worse.

Niner

Something really awesome she can do: She’s very good at mental math -- basic arithmetic, conversion from metric to imperial or types of currency, multiplying large numbers. Most people are more impressed with this ability than Niner herself is: she’s never had to work at it, and for most of her life it hasn’t been terribly relevant.

A person, creature, or thing she adores: Niner has a lot of younger siblings. She adores them all. Around them, she will drop the pretense of caring about nothing, and show full enthusiasm for anything they like.

A secret she’s hiding: She hasn't told anyone about the abusive relationship in her past.

Something she truly fears: For werecats, the threat of getting caught by animal control and getting euthanized or ending up as somebody’s housecat is about as probable as your average person getting struck by lightning, but few werecats are completely immune to fearing it. Niner in particular finds it horrifying.

A fond memory of hers: Her last year hanging with her parents and immediate siblings was a pretty good one. Since their kids were all on the verge of striking out on their own, her parents allowed them more independence than they ever had before, but there was still the safety net and companionship of family. They also made a point of visiting some places that they’d talked about visiting for years but hadn’t gotten to. It was basically a year-long vacation, and made Niner more aware of her independent spirit.

A place or item which gives her strong feelings: An alley behind a bar in Atlanta, Georgia. It’s where her relationship with Marrow ended. It’s also where one of her recurring nightmares, on the rare occasions she has one, takes place.

A dream or ambition for the future: Werecats travel a lot, but they tend to remain in the same country, and after their roaming days as young adults, they tend to remain in the same geographic area. Niner’s roaming days might be over, but she wants to visit another country. It won’t be easy, considering that she lacks money, a birth certificate, and a general idea of what other countries there are out there, but Niner can be dedicated when she really wants something.

An angsty fact about her: Tied in with her desire for independence is a belief that she needs to rely solely on herself, that other people can’t be trusted or that asking them to bear even part of one of her problems is infringing on them.

A domestic fact about her: Niner’s favorite place to sleep is Q’s windowsill. It gets a good amount of sunlight, and the size is just perfect.

A random other fact: She once worked as a cashier. It was just for a single shift, she got paid under the table, and frankly she was terrible at it, but the hot dog stand guy was desperate, and Niner really needed the money.

Ash

Something really awesome he can do: Ash can make a vegetarian version of just about anything. He considers it a gift. To others in the household (particularly Connie) … it’s amazing, but not in a good way.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: A crocheted frog that ‘lives’ on a shelf in the kitchen. It was a gift to his great-aunt who owned the house before him. It’s not what most people would consider cute, it’s probably older than he is so it’s got some noticeable wear and tear to it, but to little bitty Ash it was a benevolent spirit watching over the kitchen, smiling kindly to everyone who entered, and never telling on the small boy sneaking cookies before dinner.

A secret he’s hiding: It’s not quite a secret, more a deeply personal family matter that Ash is aware of but doesn’t share with anyone. His aunt Lily isn’t technically his aunt. She’s a half-dryad who, because of complications tied to her conception and birth, is bound to a tree on his grandmother’s property and traveling too far from it is painful for her. Obviously this isn’t something they can share with normal people, but it’s a sensitive enough situation that no one outside of Ash, his mother, grandmother, and aunts knows the details.

Something they truly fear: Ash is a naturally patient person, but he is not inherently non-confrontational or easy-going. And he is not the kind of person to just stand by when something makes him angry. He’s not exactly scared of losing his temper and doing something he regrets, but he is concerned about someday ending up on a slippery slope and reaching a point where he wouldn’t regret it.

A fond memory of his: He and Danae took a lot of walks in the country when they were in high school, usually by themselves, but sometimes with one of his aunts or one of her siblings. One especially beautiful summer evening, they sat by a lake for a couple hours and talked about their dreams for the future -- not just what they were likely to do, but what they really wanted to do with their lives.

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The abovementioned lake. He spent a lot of time there growing up, and there’s good and bad memories tied to it. Mostly good.

A dream or ambition for the future: He has a lot of plans for the house. He’s not sure yet whether he wants to try to turn it into a school for enchanting, or turn it back into a bed-and-breakfast type place for occult people. The former is more appealing to him personally, but the latter works better considering that there’s already a bunch of different occult types staying there.

An angsty fact about him: Ash is the least angsty person in the household, honestly. He’s very grateful for that.

A domestic fact about him: He hates dust. Dishes can stack up for a meal or two, laundry gets done mainly because otherwise he’d have no clothes, mopping only happens if the floor is sticky, the fridge is cleaned out on a schedule, but dusting happens every day.

A random other fact: He’s watched several YouTube videos trying to learn how to yodel. It’s gotten put on the back burner, now that there’s people in the house who could hear him no matter how tightly he shuts the door or how quietly he tries to do it, but he still hopes to learn how someday.

Thanks for asking!

#ask #answer #ian grayson #lauren winston #q free #niner #ash jackson #OCs

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

two paper airplanes flying;

full masterlist

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x female!reader

Word count: 8,537 (yes you got that right)

Warning: smut!!! exhibitionism, fingering, dirty talk. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: ransom drysdale will always find you, no matter where you are. always.

a/n: this is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor‘s dark writing challenge. i chose prompt #24 “Character A is starting over. What happens when their past catches up to them?” hey there! i knowwww that the word count probably shocked the hell out of you cause it did me too. i got so lost in writing this fic that i ended up writing over 8k+ but honestly, this was really fun to write and i’ve been thinking of writing about ransom for awhile! so i hope you like it! please leave a like and comment.

You stepped into your apartment unit, as you hauled the very last box of your belongings with your foot, due to its ponderosity. You were wearied from the hours you spent on moving in. And you hadn't even set everything up in place yet. You simply had to worry about getting all of the boxes out of the moving truck now.

You thanked the mover for helping you with all the commodity that was partially carried by them into your unit. You tipped them off and said your goodbye.

You closed the door behind you and you sighed. You immediately slumped yourself down on the couch, trying to regain the energy you had receded. You threw your head back as you closed your eyes. Your thoughts drifted to the chaos that had coerced you into escaping to the big city and run away.

Free. Free from the town, free from the drama, free from him.

You had been dating Ransom Drysdale for three months now. Your families were well-acquainted since you were only kids. Well, Ransom was several years older than you, but the first time you met him was when he was nothing but a fresh-faced, ambitious young man who had been spoiled by his parents since he was still in Linda Drysdale's womb.

Even as kids, he would often flirt with you, and make stupid jokes that used to elicit a chuckle out of you. At family gatherings, he would often ask you to play hide and seek and he always succeeded in locating you, no matter how clever you think you are at hiding. There's not a single hiding spot that you hadn't attempted to hide yourself in, that he failed to find. "I will always find you." He once said.

Years later, you remained good friends, despite the alteration in his demeanor. He became more impertinent. He grew into a charismatic, presumptuous, dashing young man who used snarky remarks as his weapon in family events. He was aware of his indisputable good looks. He utilized it as the power to lure any woman into his bed and that gave him even more reason to his entitlement.

He never once had to look for a job, because he knew his parents were incapable of cutting him off. Just like how he made you incapable of resisting him one night after you went back to Boston after you graduated for Thanksgiving break. You wanted to take a little break and spend some time in your hometown before you start your own clothing line that you've dreamt about since you were a toddler who was obsessed with Barbie dolls and dressing them up.

You'd always pretend that you were Barbie and Ransom was Ken. Silly little you.

You knew damn well that spending Thanksgiving with your family would be a bad idea. You had this tradition, that on every Thanksgiving, your family would celebrate it with the Thrombeys. And you knew Ransom would be there. He would make a magnetic entrance, with his nose up high and a tantalizing scowl on his face, showcasing his intact ego.

Ransom sat next to you on Thanksgiving dinner as he would every year. You were wearing a beige-colored, off the shoulder knitted-sweater dress. Ransom would openly flirt with you in front of your parents, despite being aware that your parents strongly opposed the idea of you dating him. They respected his family, but not his notorious reputation. That's why they would never say anything incriminating that would cause a strain between your family and his, in front of them. So they'd pretend to smile and nod along.

You had warned Ransom many times to take it slow on the PDA when your parents are around. You have told him that they weren't too keen on you being together. And so, Ransom took it as a challenge. He would put his hand on your thigh, as you try to swat him away. The more you try to resist, the harder he would try to tease you. He loved seeing you struggle under his touch and he wanted to see you fall apart in front of the entire family. Because he was an asshole who got off on your humiliation.

Ransom would slowly lift your dress as Richard and your father exchanged stories of how their business empires had been doing. He would push it even harder when Meg would make a conversation about university life as a fellow college student, of course, she'd confide in you regarding the stress exams and assignments. You were practically sisters. She trusted you more than her own cousins; Ransom and Jacob.

Ransom would keep retreating his hand onto your thigh to hike up your dress and to insert his fingers into your private parts. He would smirk when you couldn't impede him anymore. He would slowly rub your wet core and feel you under his touch. It made you squirm in your seat, as you try to concentrate on what Joni was flaunting about. She was talking so highly about a new deal she made with a skin-care company that asked her to advertise their overpriced products or something.

Ransom would peek his eyes to the side to watch your struggle, as you try not to choke on your drink. You tried to calm your nerves by gulping a glass of wine. It didn't help, his fingers were now moving so furiously that if everybody stopped talking, the whole room would be able to hear the obscene sounds of your drenched pussy against your panties.

He kept circling your bud as you try not to crumble from orgasm in front of your entire family. You held yourself back by covering your mouth as your moans were pleading to be vocalized. Meg detected the agitation on your face, from the way you sweat nervously, despite the cold air in the room. From the way you were fidgeting in your seat and the way you were a little silent from the usual.

"Y/N, are you okay? You look a little unwell."

"Y-yeah. I'm fine, Meg, ju- just... Cramps. That's all." You cleared your throat.

She nodded at that, but the look on her face told you that she didn't believe you were telling the whole truth, but she was going to let it slide.

Joni carried on with her interrupted vaunting about her best-dressed award or something. Your head started to become hazy from the impending climax that was about to hit you like a hurricane. Just a few more vigorous rubs from Ransom's skillful fingers, and then you fell apart.

You hunched yourself down slightly to hide the orgasmic look on your face, as your release drenched both your underwear and his palm. You tried to slow your breathing down by staying still in place, as you relish in the aftermath of your displayed euphoria.

Everyone was still unaware of what just happened, and you were glad of it. There's no way you'd be able to face your parents alone if they knew Ransom had inappropriately groped you under the table on Thanksgiving dinner. The look on their faces would make you wish the earth would swallow you so you'd vanish from the face of the earth.

You excused yourself, saying that you needed to use the bathroom. And you weren't exactly lying, you did need to use the bathroom. For an unspeakable reason. To make it less conspicuous, Ransom waited for a few minutes to join you.

He excused himself and followed you to the bathroom. You were cleaning yourself up when Ransom knocked on the door. You immediately knew that trouble was paying you a visit. You opened the door and his Carolina blue eyes greeted you. You exchanged nothing but glances for a moment there, then he grabbed your face in his big hands and pressed his lips onto yours brutally as if his life depended on it.

He backed your body with his and pressed you to the bathroom sink. Your makeout session didn't stop until he decided to turn your figure around in the swift motion of his hands, and he lifted up your skirt abruptly and ripped apart your panties. He threw it on the marble bathroom floor.

His broad figure was towering over you, and you had never felt so tiny against a man before. He stared into the reflection of your eyes on the mirror before he made the next move. He then pushed his finger onto your clit and shamelessly rubbed you there, stimulating you for the second time, as if you weren't soaked in excitement already.

"I've barely done anything to you and you're already soaking wet..." He chuckled condescendingly. You shut your eyes in pleasure, couldn't suppress the moans on your lips.

"You secretly like it when my fingers are buried deep in your cunt, in front of your parents, don't you. What a dirty girl."

You were too lost in the feel of his fingers to answer him. The truth is, you have wanted him for as long as you could remember. You remember 10 years old you were giddy whenever your parents told you that the Thrombeys were coming over. You had the biggest crush on Ransom since you were basically a toddler. You never said anything to him though, fearing that it would ruin the friendship. And what if... He didn't feel the same way? What if instead of reciprocating the declaration, he laughs on your face and turns his back on you?

So you buried your feeling deep until you entered your teenage years. Never hinting a single clue that you were into him. Even during his teenage years, you both went into the same school. One of the top private schools in Massachusets, the best both of your parents could possibly afford. Money was never part of your family's problem and Ransom could relate.

You watched him breaking girls' hearts here and there, throughout his adolescent years. He and you remained close for sure, but in school, he barely acknowledged you. He would always pretend that he didn't really know you well. And oftentimes, that would irk you, to the point where you'd neglect his texts and phone calls for days. When he couldn't come over, he would either text or call you, treasuring your companion through the small device.

But he went over the line, you'd always give him a silent treatment. You wanted him to know that you were exasperated at his actions. When his texts and calls remained unanswered, then he would try to FaceTime you, but that too went ignored. You'd decide to read his texts without replying, trying to give him even a harder lesson.

Deep inside of your heart, you knew that you technically had no right to be mad at him. He had the right to date any girl he wanted, or to sleep with any girl he wanted. You weren't in a committed relationship, you barely had feelings for each other. Well, for him. Not for you, you were steep in love with him, and yet, you couldn't say or do anything about it. You were screwed, and you couldn't get yourself out of the quicksand.

But you told yourself that this was for the best. Maybe if you keep ignoring him, you will slowly learn how to get over him. You needed some space and maybe, just maybe, with the absence of his presence, you could find a way to accept that what you had was merely friendship and nothing more, nothing romantic.

The next day, after you neglected him all night, he would come up to you and confronted you about it at school. "What the hell happened? Why did you ignore me last night? I tried to call and text you a thousand times and you didn't fucking answer!"

You scoffed at his anger. Seriously? He wanted to go there? He wanted to act as if you owed him an explanation? "I don't have to answer you if I don't want to, Ransom. Now step away, I'm late to class."

He didn't flinch. He stood still and persisted in blocking you from leaving him. He grabbed your biceps, not too harsh but enough to hear him. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you on your period or something?"

You stared at him incredulously. Is he seriously this stupid? There was no point in trying to give him a lesson, he was too inconsiderate and proud to care about your feelings anyway. "Get the fuck away from me, Ransom. Just move, please, I need to get to class."

"I am not letting you go until you explain why you're acting like this! Just tell me what did I do? Did I say something wrong?" His tone softened. The look on his face told you that he was desperate to fix whatever the hell was wrong between you two, even if he didn't really have a clue whether something was really wrong or not.

"Move, or I will call the principal." The principal didn't intimidate him, none of the teachers did. He was trouble, parading around the halls like he owned the entire school. And he knew that his parents were capable of affording the entire school, that's why none of these teacher's threats could put him in fear. But he didn't want to cause a scene, especially in front of the whole school, where his reputation might be damaged.

"This conversation's not over, y/n."

You didn't give him a reaction and just walked past him, straight to class. A small part of your heart didn't want to leave him in the dark, but you also couldn't find a way to yell at him without making yourself look crazy, especially in front of the entire school.

So you put on this cold facade like you didn't really care about him and that you weren't in the mood to talk to him, hoping that he would figure it out himself. Maybe if you punished him long enough, he would have a change of heart. Deep down you know that it's wishful thinking. He had gone too deep into his fuckboy ways and there wasn't an ounce of regret in him about it. But you let your brain create these nonsensical scenarios, that once he realized that he had not cherished you in the way you deserved all this time, he would drive to your house and beg for your forgiveness, and you'd be the happiest couple in school. Maybe... Just maybe.

Years went by as you both kept playing this cat and mouse game. A perpetual cycle for the two of you. But eventually, one of you had to be the grown-up and cut it off.

Ransom took you from behind as he put a hand over your mouth to muffle the obscene noises coming out of your mouth. You couldn't help it, as much as you wanted to stay quiet and prevent your parents from catching you doing the dirty, his vigorous thrusts were too good, the friction of his shaft made your head spin.

Your knees buckled and if it weren't for his body pressing you tight against the sink, you would've crumbled to the floor already. He whispered filthy words into your ears, making you feel even more lightheaded. "You can not resist me, can you? Walking around in your designer dress, like you are this posh little princess, when I know you bury your fingers deep in your cunt every night wishing it was my cock instead..."

A few more deep-seated thrusts and you came apart. You threw your head back and rested it on his shoulder, as he sloppily pushed into you more trying to reach his own orgasm. He moved his hand that was blocking your moans to your hips. His unmerciful movements prolonged your release as he reached his.

You were spent from the intense eruption as he pulled himself out of you and stepped back, watching his fluids flow out of you like a celestial water fountain saturating its frame. He loved the picturesque view. You steadied yourself as your knees quivered. You gripped the sink tile of the sink and turned around to face him.

"Don't speak a word of this to anyone."

That made his grin grow wider, like the conceited asshole he was. "Aw, what's the matter, baby? You don't want anyone to know what a little whore you truly are?"

"Shut up. And wait here for at least 10 minutes."

You opened the door and lurked the halls, glad that no one was there to catch your shenanigans with Ransom.

You stepped out of the bathroom hurriedly and closed the door behind you quietly. You walked back to the dining room, as calm as you possibly could, despite the still lingering high from Ransom's cock, but you were good at mastering the impassive face.

Later that night, Ransom paid you another visit as you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, in your silk black robe. He quietly climbed through your window and knocked softly at the glass.

You were surprised to see him. What the hell is he doing here? Also, climbing up to your window? This isn't 9th grade and you two weren't fifteen anymore. But you opened the handle for him slightly and spoke before you let him in.

"What the hell are you doing here, Ransom? It's getting late and I'm exhausted."

"Oh, I bet you are, babygirl. After what I did to you this afternoon, I would've been worn out too." His voice teasing.

You shook your head at his stupid banter. "Shut up, and don't make any noise. My parents are sleeping next door. If you wake them up, I will act like you attacked me and let them call the cops on you."

"Can't promise you anything, but I'll try." He winked.

You rolled your eyes and you opened the door wider, to enable his enormous figure in. "What do you want Ransom, couldn't you just text or call me?" You folded your hands against your chest.

"I needed to see you again, and I actually have something to say to you."

You shrugged. "Okay, then tell me. What was so important that you couldn't call or text? Or FaceTime, it's really not that hard to ju-"

He shut you up by attacking your lips as he grabbed your face with his hands as he did earlier. You were slightly pushed back by his truculent action but he caught you and his tongue entered into your open mouth as it tangled with yours.

You were breathless from the sudden action. He kept on kissing you until he was running out of breath as he was satisfied with how swollen your lips were. You gulped as you gathered the cells in your brain that were scrambled gruffly by him back together again. You assumed he wanted sex because if there's anything that Ransom couldn't run low on, it's his stamina. And of course, being the manwhore that he is, he couldn't keep it in his pants for at least until the morning.

"Be my girl, baby."

"...What?" You backtracked your face to assess him, for you were taken aback by what he just said. The words 15 years old you were longing to hear, but not now. Not anymore.

The truth is, you had moved on. At least you thought you were. When you both went off to college, you went to separate universities, despite still staying in touch, you rarely saw one another. You got busy with unraveling the major that you were passionate about and made new friends who shared the same interests as you do. You even met a couple of cute boys that caught your eye.

Though they couldn't compare to Ransom's charm, they still lend a hand in helping you forget Ransom. You realized you couldn't be a teenager anymore and had to chase only what truly matters to you and what helps you grow.

Eventually, your feelings started to erode away, as your college days went by. Went on a few monotonous dates, went to parties with your friends, and studied hard for your grades. You had the whole world in your hands, and you weren't about to let anything or anyone, including Ransom, fuck it up. No, no, especially Ransom.

But every time you see him at annual celebrations or at family gatherings, his magnetism still pulls you in like gravity. So you decided to let loose and live your life, without fearing that you'd get deeper into your feelings because you've matured now, and you weren't going to be held back by your juvenile crush anymore.

"Ransom... How drunk are you?"

"What? No! I'm totally sober. Say yes, baby, I know you've wanted me since high school."

"Ransom, shut up. You are clearly drunk, and I need to sleep, alright?" You tried to push him playfully, knowing that he might hit the floor with a loud thud and it would risk your parents catching you both.

"I'm serious, y/n! Why do you think I came all the way over here just to talk to you? I want you, baby."

You scoffed at his antics. "Let me get this right... You want me, to be your girl?"

"Yes," he grabbed both of your hands and brought them close to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat's pace escalated, slowly but surely. You wanted to believe the look of longing in his eyes. A part of you believed that it was simply part of his charm; the way he'd gaze deeply into a girl's eyes and how he'd make them believe that he sincerely wants them, to only ruin their mascara and never to return their calls again.

But the other part of you wanted to believe that, after years of dynamic friendship, he truly yearned for you. That, after many meaningless hookups, he had realized that it couldn't fill the void inside him and that he couldn't find you in anyone else. Suddenly, the 15 years old girl in you revived. You remembered the old flame and you couldn't extinguish it now.

"I know I'm a little late, but c'mon. We've been fucking around for years and tell me, this afternoon didn't mean something to you. We'd make a great couple." He paused, giving you a moment to answer. He searched for it on your face, whilst waiting for your mouth to say the green-light word.

He then continued, replacing the silence with his beguiling persuasion. "So, what do you say, baby? I know you want this. I know you want me. We'll go on a date tomorrow and I'll pick you up at 7." The look on his ocean blue eyes confined you in spot, frozen the time. Like you were in a movie and the picture was put in slow-motion. You felt helpless under his words. You couldn't fake it anymore now, deep down you knew that you had always been his even when he didn't have a clue of it.

"Yes, Ransom, I want to be yo-" Before you could even finish your words, he cut you off by abruptly pressing his lips to yours and you were slightly shoved back from the sudden force. If he hadn't been holding you so tightly, you would've already landed on the floor. You opened your mouth to let his tongue enter as it gets tangled with yours. His hand immediately moved from your face to your thighs, lifting you up and you circled them around his waist.

He carried you to the bed, as his lips continued its misbehaving on you. He dropped on you the mattress, and untied your robes, revealing your naked body under it. You were wearing nothing but black lace underwear, that was soon torn off from your body, exposing your moist pussy too. His lips then move to your neck, kissing the sensitive spot that took your breath away.

He bit the skin hard to leave a hickey, stamping his mark on you. He kept on trailing open-mouthed kisses to your body, as he made a quick stop on your nipples, giving them extra attention. He sucked on the right one like a starved baby, as his other hand circled on your other one, and he pinched it hard, causing your body to jolt.

He made sure it was wet enough with his soaked with his saliva until he decided to move further down, as his other hand was still groping your other breast. Without wasting any more time, as soon as he reached your most sensitive part, he immediately licked a stripe on your bud, as he feasted like a deprived man.

His fingers unclasped your breast, as he shoved the two of them inside your heated core. You shrieked due to the shock, as your hand immediately muffle yourself, trying not to make any louder noise. He lifted his head to see the expression on your face, lost in pleasure as he kept on intruding in and out of you. "Shh, be quiet babygirl, or your parents are going to walk in on you creaming all over my fingers."

Your mind was hazy from the friction his fingers caused, you stared at his face through foggy lens, as his fingers went deeper and faster. It was getting harder and harder to hold back your moans. His words sounded obscure in your ears, as your brain was clouded with the tightening coil inside you. You couldn't think, you couldn't speak, you couldn't move under him. He truly had you wrapped around his fingers. Literally.

You felt yourself nearing the explosion, your hands immediately went around his shoulders as you hid your face on his neck, he sensed your impending release, so his thumb pressed itself to your clit and circled it, making you lose your damn mind. Just a couple more flicks, and you were a crumpled mess on the sheets. Your juices splattered all of over his hand, but it didn't stop moving in and out of you, prolonging the bliss.

After you started to cool down and recollect yourself, he pulled his hand out of you and he intensely gazed into your eyes whilst cleaning himself off your juices by sucking them clean, like a goddamn peanut butter Nutella.

He grinned like a devil who had just committed his greatest crime while you were a sweating, panting mess underneath him. "You taste better than those fucking Biscoff cookies, sweetheart." He kissed your mouth one more before he decided to get out of your bed. You rose from the bed too, as you followed him to the window. "Gotta go, it's getting late. Think you need to charge yourself, baby."

You chuckled, his wittiness always gets you. "I don't know, got a couple of unused toys in my drawers, I might need to see if they work."

"Don't you dare." His expression hardened, but you knew that he was playing along with your teasing.

"Can't promise you anything, but I'll try." You winked. His remark has backfired. "Now, leave, before, I call my daddy on you."

"Oh, babygirl, soon, your father won't be the only one you call daddy." If you were having a drink right now, you would've chocked on your water. Before you could retort, he ended the windup the night with a quick reminder, "Tomorrow, 7 pm. Dress up for me, yeah?" It was merely a rhetorical question, with an imperious intent. You both knew damn well you were going to dress up for him, he didn't have to ask twice to know the answer.

"I'll see you tomorrow." As he opened the window and quickly climbed down like a thief. How he managed to be as silent as a Ninja with his enormous figure, you'll never know. But he did it impeccably anyway.

You watched him through the window, as he opened the door of his car, and slid into the driver's seat. You two were practically the modern version of Romeo and Juliet. Your silliness whispered. Your hopeless romantic heart had associated the mundanity of life with fairytales and magical characters. You quickly shook those thoughts away as Ransom drove off his BMW and vanished into the night.

You laid in your bed that night, giddy with elation, like a teenage girl who had just been asked to go to prom with him by her crush. You tried to sleep off the exhaustion from the shenanigans had left you with. But despite feeling the weariness in your bones, you still couldn't resist the grin on your face. You eventually closed your eyes, replaying the way Ransom had touched you, kissed you, and fucked you earlier as you slowly drifted away to the land of dreams.

That's how your relationship with Ransom began. It only lasted for so long, until you both started arguing more and more every day. Whenever you had a big fight, you'd often threaten him by saying that you were going to leave, and when you actually dumped him, he always came back to your door, begging for forgiveness, wearing his best apologies.

Here's the upgraded cat and mouse game you two were playing again. Only this time, you two were caught in a narrower circle, that you both started. Him by asking you out, and you by agreeing to be his girl.

One morning, you were woken up by the news of Harlan Thrombey's death. To say you were shocked, was an understatement. Of course, you were aware that due to his age, his clock was ticking. It was only about a matter of time when you'll have to reminisce about your very last conversation with him.

You and Harlan were quite close. He was like the grandfather you never had. Your grandparents from your father's side died before you could even know them. Your grandparents from your mother's side lived on the other side of the world, and she didn't get along with them, due to your mother's ambitions of moving to the United States, and refused to follow her parents' footsteps in business. She pursued her own dreams and so, they totally cut her off.

But being the boss lady that your mother was, she managed to build her own empire, making her and your father 'a power couple', as one would say. Your mother met your father while they were in college, they got married after dating for three years, and had you, a year later.

You had always admired your parent's harmonious marriage. Your father could get a little too overambitious sometimes, and your mother had high expectations of you, but, you knew deep down they loved you and wanted nothing but the best for their one and only daughter. And most importantly, they were still madly in love with each other even after years of being married. It's very rare to find those these days.

You always wondered whether it was possible for you and Ransom to see a peak of light. Whether you could have what your parents have. A loving, committed, everlasting relationship. You used to think that you were going to marry Ransom eventually. That you might see a slow change in Ransom, but eventually, you were going to end up together, have kids, maybe two, a girl and a boy. You'll name them Florence and Nathan. Yeah, you had always loved those names.

But those fantasies spontaneously combust as soon as your relationship started to get rocky. Your faith in your future with Ransom was fading, and you were okay with that, maybe it's going to sting for a while, and you were going to cry on your bedroom floor, but you'll be fine. You'll move on and you'll meet someone else, someone better, someone wiser, someone kinder with your heart.

After the news of Harlan's unexpected death loomed over the house like a ghost, you quickly called Ransom. He didn't answer. You called him for the second time, and he finally picked up. "Hey, baby." His voice sounded too cheerful for someone who had just lost his grandfather. But then you remember that this was Ransom you were talking about. He didn't have an ounce of remorse or clemency in that cold heart of his.

"Hey, I just heard the news... How are you doing?"

"Harlan's death? Well, who are we kidding, it was just a matter of time anyway. That old bastard."

"Ransom, my parents told me everything. He didn't die to natural causes, he was murdered." Saying it still doesn't sound right. The flair for the dramatic, Harlan Thrombey. Death by cliche, like the murder mysteries novels he wrote.

"Unfortunately, but I guess he had it coming. Things already went South since the party anyway." He shrugged it off.

The party? Why would the conversation suddenly steer into the party?

The night's party before Harlan's death, you attended the family's mansion a little late, for you were feeling a little sick due to your menstruation cycle. The truth was, you didn't really wanna go anyway but you promised Ransom that you were going to see him and your parents that you weren't going to be rude.

By the time you were there, you didn't even get to see Ransom for he was arguing with Harlan in his small study room. So you went over to Meg to have a little chat with a glass of champagne in your hand. Suddenly, you spotted Ransom storming off Harlan's study as he picked up his jacket and ran to the door to God knows where. You didn't wanna be nosy, you figured Ransom would probably tell you about it later. But you were going to let him have some space, so you didn't try to stop him.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask... What happened last night? In Harlan's study before you stormed off from the party?"

Silence faltered for a moment before he answered, "just Harlan's usual antics. It was no big deal, I promise you."

You doubted that he was telling you the full truth, but it was apparent to you that he wasn't interested in discussing this topic any longer, so you weren't going to push him. People grieve in different ways, and you were going to let him deal with it in his own ways.

"Alright, for whatever it's worth, I'm truly sorry. He was a good man."

"Yeah, I know, baby. Me too. I'll call you later, alright?"

"Okay." And the call ended.

Weeks went on as the investigation of the murder proceeded, Detective Benoit Blanc, Lieutenant Elliott, and Trooper Wagner were meticulously taking every step further to find out the truth, investigating every possible suspect, learning their motives thoroughly.

As those weeks went by, your suspicion of Ransom's innocence grew. Every time you ask about him, he'd quickly shut it off and redirect the topic. He told you once, that Harlan was going to cut him off his will and that from now on, he was going to have to fend for himself. That only raised more questions in your head; how was he going to fend for himself now, is he going to get a job? Did Harlan say something else that might've indicated his farewell?

And most importantly, the conveniently coincidental timing. This heated argument between them took place the night before Harlan's death. Your curiosity grew about what really went down in his study...

The news broke when you were sitting in your spacious study, filled with books of your favorite authors. Romance novels, Sci-Fi books, business books, fashion books, etc. You like to keep yourself educated. You had just ended a phone call with a potential investor of your future clothing line when your mother knocked on your door and you let her in. There was a flash of disturbance on her face.

"Sweetheart, have you heard yet?" She approached you and put her hands on your shoulders, trying to comfort you before you even knew what she was trying to comfort you from.

"No, heard about what?"

"Ransom has been arrested. For Harlan's murder. Detective Blanc figured everything out. He also confessed of killing Fran, their help."

You squinted your eyes at her statement. "...What?" You felt like you had been struck by a thunder amidst your serene beauty sleep.

"I'm truly sorry, sweetheart. But your father and I knew that he was bad news. You should've never associated with him since a long time ago."

"He's my childhood friend, mom. You and Dad are close to the Thrombeys. How do you expect me not to be associated with him?"

"I know, but we never concurred on you two dating. His reputation precedes him."

You felt like you were going to vomit, you couldn't believe your own ears. You always knew that Ransom was a rascal by nature, but the fact that he was capable of murder dumbstruck you. And the fact that he murdered his own grandfather made you question whether he had a drop of empathy and remorse at all in that frozen heart of his.

"Where is he now, mom?"

"He's currently in custody. Detective Elliott and Trooper Wagner are questioning him for his statement."

And that's how you ended up here, in New York City, relocating your personal belongings to your brand-new place that you refer to as home. You kept recalling that night when you were finally ready to talk to him after he pleaded guilty of committing Harlan's murder.

A big part of you loathed him. A murderer. He wasn't just a man with bad intentions and bad behaviors, but he was willing to go as far as taking someone else's life if they don't grant him his wishes. Money really brings out the worst in people.

But another part of you yearned for him. Yearned for his benign words and sincere touches exchanged during late-night conversations after he fucked you like an animal in your bed. Or at his place, where he'd ask you to stay because he knew how drained you were after he made you cum three times... At least.

Things were often convoluted and acrimonious between the two of you, but when it's good, it's as gentle as the autumn breeze and as steady as Wednesday evenings in Boston. It's ironic, really, how you moved to the city that epitomized the chaos part of your shattered relationship.

For now, you were okay. You were dealing with the split at your own pace, whilst your mind was constantly calculating your next move to start your own clothing line. Making calls and closing deals here and there. Nightly meetings in fancy restaurants of Manhattan. Invariably sketching up the spontaneous designs that appear in your head.

But your heart discreetly missing him. When the buzzing of the city was boisterous and the lights are sparkling like a Christmas tree, you wished that he was here with you instead of being locked up in prison. You loved New York and you had been dreaming of moving there for as long as you could remember. You just wished that someone was there to share the beauty of the city with you.

Like one night when your parents were out of town, and Ransom came over to your house. You had passionately made love in the dark that night, and as always, after he was finished with you, he'd hold you close to his chest as he strokes your hair and his other hand was placed behind his head, displaying his hard rock chest.

"You ever thought about getting out of Boston?"

"Any place you have in mind?"

"New York City. I've always loved the big city life, you know? The town that never sleeps and the endless opportunities that await."

"You're thinking about moving there?"

"...Yeah. I wanna start my own clothing line, Ransom. I don't wanna live off of my parents' trust fund forever. I wanna be my own person and New York seems like the best city to start off."

"I can't stop you if you that's what you really want but, we're gonna have to figure things out."

"What if I move to New York and you stay? How would we make this work?"

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out... I'll find you. I'll always find you."

When you were finally ready to have an one-on-one with him, you went to visit him. You put on your black coat and your Chanel sunglasses to hide your own face, not wanting to be recognized by people.

He walked into the visitation room and sat on the phone booth in his neon orange attire. His raven hair was slicked back, as neat as ever. How he managed to still look like an entitled, trust-fund brat whilst locked up in prison, you'll never know.

"You've finally come to see me."

"I'm not here to see you. I'm here to talk to you."

"C'mon sweetheart, cut me some slack here, I've been accused of my own grandfather's murder and you were going to act like a bitch on your first visitation? It's been months and I've fucking missed you."

"Shut up, Ransom. I don't wanna hear any more lies coming out of that mouth of yours. You are a fucking murderer, how could you? And your own grandfather? What kind of wretch does that?"

"That old bastard had it coming when he decided to cut me out. You think I'll let him get away with it? Hell no. That's my money! My birthright! He couldn't just-"

"Ransom, I'm breaking up with you." You interrupted his grievance.

He paused for a moment as if he was digesting the words you just unloaded on him. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. I'm breaking up with you. I do not wanna be associated with a murderer."

Suddenly, his palm struck the glass with a roar so harsh, it nearly staggered. The look on his face was murderous and his breathing labored. And in that moment, you had no doubt that he was indeed a murderer. The way his temper could strike at any time when he wasn't getting his way, you saw it with translucent eyes now.

"You are not breaking up with me, you hear me? I'm getting out of here and I'll find you. I will always find you."

"Goodbye, Ransom." And just like that, you terminated the ties that linked the two of you like a string on a puppet. Your entire history; two decades worth of whirlwind of emotions, resolved at the very last place you'd ever expected yourself to be. You rise from your seat and left him to rot in prison for his sins.

You kept yourself busy, chasing your ambitions to life. You kept reminding yourself that Ransom was exactly where he was supposed to be. You made a vow to yourself that you weren't going to let anyone or anything stand in the way of you and your dream career, and you were going to live by that.

One night, you had just returned to your apartment from a meeting with your PR team for your clothing line company. The meeting went well and they were positive that your marketing & advertising plans will succeed in shaping the brand's excellent image.

You took off your Louboutin heels and put them on the shoe racks where all of your other shoes were neatly organized, from your sneakers, sandals, boots, and wedges. The apartment was still dark, but you could see through the city lights from the window, and because you had been living there for weeks now, you had memorized every inch of your place well enough to move around blindfolded.

You switched on the lights to your left, and that's when it echoed.

Him. His voice. Vanquishing the stillness of the room.

Shivers ran down your spine, like the cold midnight air of New York, assailing you when you were clad in nothing but bare. Just like how he pounced you out of the blue when your guard was down to the point where you had even forgotten why you had it in the first place.

"I see New York has been treating you well."

He stood there by the window, staring out into the bustling city, with a black trench coat hung flawlessly over his broad shoulders. His hands were deep in his pocket. You could only see the back of his head, but you knew if he turned around, you would see the insincerity in his words.

You stood there frozen in place, not believing your own eyes. The man you had come to fear; a murderer, who was imprisoned for his heinous crimes... He was standing in your very own apartment, on your wooden floors, waiting for you to come home.

Despite the low temperature of the room, you were sweating. You couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't make a sound. You just witnessed as horror plays out, calculating its next move to imperil you.

He turned around, and that's when you saw it. His face displayed nothing but hollowness, Antarctica blue eyes pierced right into your soul. Like a spear shot right through the center of your heart.

“Ransom… How did you…?” Your breathing labored.

“You’re breaking up with me, you said?” He started walking towards you, deliberately. With every step his shoes thumped the ground, your heart raced, faster than the rogue wave washing over people on the shore.

You gulped. Your feet unconsciously withdrew you, as his figure was getting closer. You kept rewinding until your back hit the door, as you realized there’s no more room for you to run. Your hand immediately reached for the doorknob, but it was too late. Ransom had already seized it first, sealing your hand from turning it around as you run out of his grasp, once more.

He knew he will outrun you but he wasn’t going to take that risk. He was a man in hiding after all. He stealthily tracked you down in New York, without anyone’s knowledge, and wasted no time in paying you an unwanted visit to your apartment. He was a resourceful man, and once he set his mind on something, he will do whatever it takes to obtain it.

And he wanted you. Oh, how much he had missed you.

His other hand leaned on the door, right by your head, caging you with his body, trapping you right where he wanted you. But not for long.

“If you try to scream or run, I’ll make sure you’ll never see another light of day, sweetheart.” He whispered eerily into your ears. The hairs stood up in the back of your neck.

You weren’t going to be a fool and try to hit him or escape, knowing what he’s capable of. So you slowly unclasped the doorknob, and you pressed your forehead to the door, trying to shield yourself from this bloodthirsty beast.

Without saying another word, Ransom grabbed a full fist of your hair as he pulled you by your shoulder and directed you towards the capacious window, presenting a pellucid view of the city and how very much awake the pedestrians are.

Your hands palmed the window so your face wouldn’t hit the wall so hard, you might have a concussion. His hand moved to your back as it started to pull down the zipper of your dress. You tried to break free out of him, get him off your back, but you couldn’t, knowing that he could effortlessly overpower you.

“Don’t you fucking think of doing anything stupid, little girl. What did I warn you?”

Then you stopped thrashing around, as tears started to brim in your eyes. You tried to muffle your cries, not wanting to show him he had nearly broken you, but you couldn’t help the impotence. He brutally stripped the dress out of you, not caring if the fancy material might get lacerated.

Then he removed his own coat, and dropped it on the floor, as he used his leg to sweep both of your attires further away from your stance. The chilly night air overrun your skin, as you felt so exposed under his presence. You could hear the clinking sound of his belt, as he pulled down his pants and briefs and he moved to yours, tearing the material off of you.

Without any warning, he pushed himself inside of your wet core, feeling the slick easing him in and out of you. His hand returned to grab a fistful of your hair as he pulled back your head so he could grab you by the throat as he made you look into his eyes, whilst his other hand went to your hip, knowing full well that it could imprint a bruise on you. He then pressed his body into yours even tighter, to exhibit your bare body as he put on your breasts on full display for the entire city to see.

He slides in and out of you so easily, as his hips paced faster and unrelenting. “You really think you can run from me, huh? You must be delusional. You are mine and mine only. Always will and always be. You can’t fucking get rid of me.” He gritted through his rigorous thrusts.

You moaned in pain, as you could feel your humiliation wearing down on you. Your tears started to run down your cheeks, as your mascara got ruined along the way. Your head with clouded with shame and illicit lust.

“Let’s show the entire New York fucking City that you are mine, huh? That you are nothing but a dirty little cum-whore that belongs to me.”

You wailed louder, the mixture of pain, lust, and degradation overwhelmed you, inundating your lungs with water like you were drowning in the ocean. You squeezed his cock as you could feel your climax approaching, the fire in the pit of your stomach was ready to give in and explode. But you weren’t. You didn’t want to hand over your pleasure and give him the satisfaction of using you.

You were only human after all and the friction in your most pleasurable spot stole away all your power and strength to deny him as you yielded. A few more strokes and you crumbled. Your release washed over you and took over your body. Euphoria clogged in your brain, making you unable to think of anything else but him. His relentless thrusts that kept going prolonged your release as he tried to chase his own orgasm.

Then he let go, all the frustration, stress and anger, he unleashed all of them inside of you as he stayed still for a few minutes, making sure every drop of his cum stay inside you and none gets spilled to waste.

He breathed into your hair, as your panting didn’t slow down. You struggled with catching your breath as the glow of the moon reflected over your sweaty chest, exhibiting your exploited nudity. Your brain couldn’t even remember that you were standing on full display for you were too trounced by euphoria.

“I told you… I’ll always find you.”

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