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#happy birthday to my favorite show in the whole wide world <3

k2ntoss · 5 months

Note

Today is my bday, can you give me smth about Jason and sex bday?🥹

first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NONNIE <3 hope you enjoy a lot!!! on the other hand i feel so glad to be able to feed you with some bday sex with pretty boy jason todd so let's go, bday nonnie

before dating you jason has never been one to really think a whole lot about details, he's more reserved with his affection displays with the people he cares about. but it's been over a year and he learnt about himself how he enjoyed giving you little surprises even if it wasn't some special day it made him happy to bring a smile to your face.

for this day he's been busy getting everything ready, the love of his life's birthday was today so he couldn't let the opportunity slip. he spent the whole morning preparing your favorite dishes, putting on a nice spot on your apartment for you both to eat once you were back from work and he remebered the pretty necklace he saw caught your eyes a few weeks ago so he felt proud when he got everything ready.

as soon as you stepped into the apartment he greeted you with a wide smile and a thight hug, a shower of peck on your lips and cheeks that made you giggle "happy birthday, pretty" jason says softly against your lips, his hands in your hips before he starts walking you to the living room, filled with pretty flowers and the cushions laid around the coffee table, a few plates waiting for you and the smell is wonderful.

"jay, you didn't had to... this is everything so perfect" he knows it makes your heart melt because the smile on your lips is wide and bright, jason wraps his arms around your waist as he presses a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

"i had to, you deserve the whole world laid at your feet and i'll gladly spoil my baby" he whispers, his voice soft and filled with adoration because you know he would lay the whole universe at your feet without even asking so you let him guide you to the coffee table.

he sits to bring you to his lap, his arms around your body as he brings small pieces of food to your mouth. jason feeds you, his hands caressing here anf there while he looks at you as if you were a star on the sky, kissing your cheeks when you laugh at his words and the whole scene is filled with love and tenderness. once all the dishes are empty he takes a small bag from under the table, jason is the one taking off the little velvet box before showing you the necklace and he feels his chest fuzzy when your eyes go glassy from tears of joy.

there are no words spoken as he puts the jewerly around your neck before starting a trail of soft kisses from the side of your neck to your shoulder and it's pretty innocent until you move to lay against his chest, the sudden grind of your ass against his crotch drags a low grunt from him as his hands grip your hips "sweetheart..." jason warns you at first but drops it when his lips touch your jaw.

it's enough to make the control on him vanish, he turns you around with such an ease you can't help but let out a soft moan when his lips crash against yours in a brushing kiss "what if we take this to our room?" he asks chuckling, his hands are caressing your thighs as you nod.

"you don't have to say it twice" there's that smile jason loves to see from you, it takes nothing until he's tossing your body to the bed just so he can get on top of you, kissing and nibbling on your neck as both pair of hands are skilled enough to take off the clothes from each other.

he takes place between your legs, stroking himself before he leans down to kiss right on your collar as he slides into you slowly and carefully to not hurt you. the moan that comes out of your mouth makes him grin, your hands on jason's chest while you trace his scars as he starts to thrust in a calm pace at firts, trying to make you needdier for him.

"c'mon jay... you're being mean, i need you" you whine, eyes fixed on his in a pleading way that seems to push the right button because his hips are now hammering against you, the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin filling the room only being overpowered by your moans and jason's low growls.

"happy birthday, sweetheart" he mutters on your ear as his hand grips your throat, he smirks when you cry his name between needy moans "you're so fucking good, aren't you? deserve to be fucked just like this..." he is teasing you, knowing how wild it drives you to have him telling you dirty things while he rails you.

"you like this, right? having your legs spread just for me, such a needy and spoiled little thing" he growls, lips going down your neck and to your chest, his lips sucking on one of your nipples while the other is being pinched by his fingers.

keeping it up, his pace is hard and fast, seeking your climax doing every single thing he knows you like because after all, this is your day and he's there to please his baby.

#⭒ 📬 ⭒#HAPPY BIRTHDAY NONNIE #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd blurb #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd #red hood imagine #red hood smut #red hood #dc comics #reader insert

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paulisded · 9 months

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The Ledge #584: Birthday Week!

When I put together each and every episode of The Ledge, I try really hard not to repeat myself too much. If I play a new single one week, the next I'll more than likely air a b-side or album track. Certain songs do end up appearing in multiple shows, but more than likely due to whatever themes I've selected.

That fact has always been in the back of my mind whenever I put on birthday shows. Obviously, during my birthday week I want a show of nothing but my favorite songs of all time, but at the same time I don't want to repeat that same show each and every year. But it dawned on me earlier today that repeating myself once a year is no big deal! Who remembers what I aired a year ago?

Plus, honestly, while I have not doublechecked, I'm sure this year's birthday celebration of my favorite songs is quite unlike previous editions. My tastes are ever-evolving. Some artists have emerged as new favorites. Others have maybe dropped down a peg or two. Plus, I'll admit to purposely selecting different tunes by perennial favorites. Let's be real. I can play almost any song by bands like The Clash or The Ramones...or almost every band in tonight's show.

As for the "52 weeks of Teenage Kicks", I've got a relative rrity from Hagfish. Originally released on 1995's Happiness EP, it also appeared on European versions of their second album, Hagfish Rocks Your Lame Ass. (And since this was my birthday show, I ended the episode with The Undertones original.

And like I do every week, I must again plead with y'all for more versions of "Teenage Kicks". If you are a musician, or have any contact with artists that could record their own take on the classic, please contact me!

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE SHOW!

1. Hagfish - Teenage Kicks

2. The Kinks - I'm Not Like Everybody Else

3. Rolling Stones - Loving Cup

4. The Pretty Things - L.S.D.

5. The Creation - Making Time

6. The Monkees - (I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone

7. The Flamin' Groovies - Shake Some Action

8. Big Star - September Gurls

9. Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers - Roadrunner

10. The Only Ones - Another Girl, Another Planet

11. Wreckless Eric - Whole Wide World

12. The Velvet Underground - I'm Waiting For The Man (Mono Version)

13. New York Dolls - Personality Crisis

14. Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers - One Track Mind

15. Johnny Thunders - You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory

16. The Ramones - I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

17. Sex Pistols - Lonely Boy

18. The Clash - Stay Free

19. Elvis Costello - (The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes

20. Nick Lowe - They Called It Rock

21. Graham Parker - Discovering Japan

22. R.E.M. - I Believe

23. X - The New World

24. Superchunk - Slack Motherfucker

25. Archers Of Loaf - Wrong

26. The Saints - I'm Stranded

27. Hoodoo Gurus - I Want You Back

28. The Church - The Unguarded Moment

29. The Jesus & Mary Chain - April Skies

30. Runaways - Cherry Bomb

31. The Patti Smith Group - Dancing Barefoot

32. Liz Phair - Fuck And Run

33. Lydia LovelessReally Wanna See You

34. The Replacements - Color Me Impressed

35. The Replacements - Satellite

36. Bash & Pop - Never Aim To Please

37. Paul Westerberg - 2 Days 'Til Tomorrow

38. The Undertones - Teenage Kicks

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lale-txt · 3 years

Note

hello Lale❤ for your milestone event could I have “you have ice cream on your nose.” with Ace please <3 Thank you for taking time!!

hi my dear and more importantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! i am so happy that our paths crossed here, i can't tell you that often enough. i am wishing you a calm, wonderful birthday and i hope you feel very loved. since i can't bake you a birthday cake, i've decided to turn your request into a birthday present! hope you enjoy it. i've queued this so you can wake up to this hopefully, hehe. sending you lots of warm hugs! <3

prompt: "you have ice cream on your nose" w/ Ace

word count: 959

When your boyfriend told you that he was gonna take you on a thrilling adventure tonight, you didn't quite expect... this.

"TA-DA!! What do you think, y/n?"

Ace had walked you into his room, his hands covering your eyes so you wouldn't see the surprise he had prepared for you. You could tell that he was really excited, because he was shifting from one foot to the other and babbling about how you're gonna love this, also that it was something he hadn't done in a very long time...

When you opened your eyes, you couldn't quite grasp what you saw. Every piece of furniture had been moved, the bed was now leaning against the wall, the big armchair standing in the middle, there were some poles you have never seen before and on top of that, a huge bedsheet was thrown over the whole mess. It looked as if a childhood dream had just exploded in there.

"I built us a blanket fort!", Ace exclaimed, jumping up and down a little bit and looking at you with pure excitement in his sparkling eyes. He really had golden retriever energy sometimes. "It's even better on the inside, let me show you!"

Your boyfriend grabs you by your hand, dragging you behind him to what probably was the entrance, veiled by a big scarf that was draped over two wooden chairs. A little sign was positioned there, reading "ACE'S & Y/N'S LOVE CAVE" in scrawly handwriting. You can't help but grin widely from one ear to the other. He really put lots of thought into it.

You lower your head a little and follow the fire fist into another world. Was this still the same room you knew in and out or did you just step into a portal when you entered the blanket fort?

The fabric walls were decorated with fairy lights that dipped the room in a warm, dimmed light. Pillows were scattered all over the floor, if you wanted you could flop down anywhere and fall softly into one - even though you'd rather just fall into Ace's arms. He had prepared a tablet on the floor with cut fruit and small bowls of your favorite snacks and also your favorite soda was waiting there for you.

Ace gestured to you to sit down, still overly excited by the surprised look on your face, when a voice from outside shouted: "Special delivery!"

"Let me get that.", the fire fist grinned, pulling aside the scarf at the entrance a little but acting as if he had just strolled through some big mansion to the front door for some luxury delivery - turns out it actually was one.

Thatch was crouched down in front of the blanket fort, holding up a giant ice cream bowl and handing it to your boyfriend. It was not just a simple ice cream bowl, but bigger than your entire face, with two spoons sticking in it. There were colorful sprinkles, whipped cream, cut strawberries and little paper umbrellas for decoration, also two glazed cherries on top. Ace thanked and said goodbye to Thatch with a little formal bow (just like Makino taught him) before carefully balancing the whole thing into your direction, placing it right in front of you.

"Do I spot chocolate ice cream here?", you cooed, already grabbing a spoon and looking your boyfriend stunned in the eyes. "I don't know what I did to deserve all that, but I'm not complaining."

Ace took the other spoon, scooping up a big portion of your favorite ice cream and gesturing you to open your mouth, which you don't have to be told twice. The ice cream melted in your mouth, just as your heart melted for the fire fist snuggled up next to you, watching you with the softest gaze one could imagine. Even though you've been close countless times before, your heart still skipped a beat whenever your shoulders touched, when your fingers intertwined and when he was so close you could count every freckle on his face.

"You deserve the whole world, y/n." Ace smiled and chomped down the portion you held him under his nose. Without speaking, the two of you have started a battle on who can feed the other the biggest scoop of ice cream without getting brain freeze or dropping the whole thing on the ground (the five-second-rule would still apply, right?).

The world, huh? He was your world. He was the sun that crushed down into your cosmos, radiating sunshine into the darkest corners of your soul. He was the moon that lit your way in those lonely nights, leading you right back into his arms. He was your home, your everything.

When he kisses you, the butterflies are still dancing like they did on day one. When he kisses you, the cracks in your soul are filled with liquid gold. When he kisses you, you know that true love exists. Despite everything. You both are here, breathing stardust in unison. It was enough.

You can feel Ace grinning between your kisses, which makes you giggle. He pulls away a little, still holding your face cupped in his both hands.

"What's so funny, you little firecracker?", you quipped, looking up to him with a fake pout that doesn't seem to impress him, but only makes him laugh out more.

"You have ice cream on your nose. It's cute. Makes me want to cover your face with kisses. Maybe other places, too."

"Permission granted.", you breathe as you pull him closer at the collar of his shirt, making you both fall over into a sea of pillows where you will spend the rest of the night having just the thrilling adventure Ace promised you...

#one piece #portgas d. ace #portgas ace x reader #fire fist ace #whitebeard pirates #ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece reader insert #one piece scenario #3amevent

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Hangover Duty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader’s birthday party leads to some rather endearing drunk antics. Category: Fluff Warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption, mentions of the prison arc (is that a proper content warning? idk lol) (As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in content warnings! I always want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Funny story, I woke up at like 3 in the morning last night and just sat up and cranked this out in one go, unprompted. I’m not sure why inspiration struck that late (early?) but I’m rather proud of this one considering I just woke up to edit it a few hours ago 😂, I hope you like it!

***

Watching her gradually get more drunk as the night went on had to be the most amusing and incredibly endearing way to get back into the groove of things. It was nice, actually, being able to have a good time with his friends without constantly being reminded of what's happened in the past year.

Especially considering this year Spencer was determined not to miss Y/N's birthday. Last year he'd been in prison, and rather than being able to celebrate with her and their friends, rather than getting her a card or writing her a letter, she'd written him a letter that detailed in depth how she refused to celebrate until her best friend was there to celebrate with them. Of course he felt awful about the whole thing, and when JJ had dropped off the letters that week, he made her tell Y/N how sorry he was and how he wished more than anything that he could have been there.

And naturally, after dealing with Cat another time and settling his mom down, the first chance he got, he told Y/N himself.

She was in the hospital after that incident with Mr. Scratch. She was the first person he saw in the hospital, and she was fine, arguing with the doctors about leaving to help her team. But once he showed up, telling the doctors he could get her to sit down, they left, and he pulled her in for the biggest hug they'd ever shared.

And the first thing he told her was, "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

She'd only laughed and squeezed him tighter, replying with a short, yet simple, "Shut up."

He promised to himself then that no matter what happened, he would never miss another one of her birthdays again.

Since it was the first one since all that had happened, Spencer planned something a little extra special. Weeks ahead of time, he talked to Rossi about being able to rent out a bar for the night, Y/N's favorite bar to be exact. Just for themselves. As to be expected, it took a bit of convincing, but eventually they'd been able to successfully rent out the bar for one night, and though Rossi was insistent on paying everything, Spencer wanted to offer as much as he could.

Penelope, of course, insisted on putting up decorations. She roped Luke into helping her, and though he played off like it would be torture, for one thing he was happy to help celebrate his friend's birthday in any way he could, but he also was terrible at hiding the fact that he was more than happy to help Penelope with anything she needed, whether it actually pertained to the party or not.

Everyone told her they were all just going to meet up for drinks after work that day. Y/N was more than okay with it, explaining to them how she was just happy to be able to spend her birthday with her friends no matter where they were. They told her to meet at 7pm when in reality they would all be at the bar an hour and a half early to set up and make sure everything was perfect.

When Y/N actually showed up, Spencer had never seen her so radiant. Even as she was swarmed by Garcia putting on a pink party hat for her that promptly read "Birthday Girl", her hair slightly out of place because of its placement on her head, she was the perfect example of human perfection. She greeted everyone with a huge, beautiful smile accompanied by lots of 'thank you's and 'I love you's, and when she finally got to Spencer, he tried not t hold her to him for too long.

One of the reasons Y/N loved this specific bar was because of the karaoke machine. In fact, drunken karaoke was a decent weekly occurrence with the BAU, and while they'd been no strangers to the act, it only became more frequent when Y/N joined the team. For years now they'd spent many hours singing just as many songs as anyone could think of. And even while drunk, Y/N was a natural. She slipped up on words and slurred them together once in a while, sure, but her voice was easily the most impressive of the bunch, not to mention she never failed to get anyone and everyone to join in.

All that to say Spencer made sure they would be able to use the karaoke machine before they rented out the place. He even attempted to teach himself how to work it, but try as he might, he ended up calling on JJ to help him do it.

Throughout the night they all took turns singing songs, and at one point Y/N finished a song and made a speech, standing up on the bar. (Deep down Spencer was a little nervous that she would hurt herself, or that somehow the owner of the bar would find out that she'd broken one of many rules he had about renting the place out. But that was neither here nor there when he saw the glowing smile she had on her face, looking at all her friends with the most love and admiration he'd seen anyone carry in a while.)

"I'm jussali'l tipsy at the moment, so m'sorry if I don't make any sense," Y/N slurred together, obviously very drunk. Everyone laughed and she continued, clutching the microphone in one hand and placing the other over her heart like she was going to say the Pledge of Allegiance. "I jusneed to say how much I love y'guys. Thank you for celebratin' with me and makin' my birthday real special. I'mean, you fricken rented out a whole-ass bar! That's so nice!"

As she squealed out the last sentence, Spencer couldn't help the wide smile that broke out on his face. She was just so radiant, glowing with warmth and love and happiness and everything good in the world.

She was also struggling to get off the bar. He rushed forward to help her, and she fell forward, into his arms with a giggle.

"You okay?" he asked, his concern blowing away in the wind when she looked into his eyes with another winning smile.

"No thanks t'you," she answered, promptly 'boop'-ing him on the nose before she reached over to the bar and grabbed a full shot glass. After downing the drink, she brushed passed him with a slap on the butt and another giggle, right before she loudly asked Penelope to cut her another slice of cake.

Spencer knew she wouldn't have been so bold had she been sober, but the whole situation still made him feel all warm inside, like he'd taken a shot of whiskey himself.

Luke came up to him, clapping him on the back and snapping him out of it. "This mean you and the birthday girl are finally a thing now?"

"W—what? I don't know what you mean..."

He was obviously lying, and Luke could tell. He laughed a little, nodding towards Y/N, who was currently laughing with Emily and Penelope, a bright blue smudge of frosting on her nose. "She really missed you when you were gone, man. Even put her birthday on hold until she could celebrate with you."

"Well, we've been best friends for years, and she loves her birthday. It was... A hard year. It makes sense."

"Okay, that's fair, but do you know how bad it was? No presents, no birthday wishes, nothing. She demanded we act like it was any other day. And when I brought her a cupcake, she just set it on your desk and left it there. It sat there for about a week before she finally threw it out."

Spencer looked at where she was standing, eating more cake and swaying lightly to the music that was now playing over the speakers. "Really," he mused, not even thinking about it.

Luke sighed beside him. "Look, you can... believe what you want, but we've all noticed it. You two are practically inseparable, and the way I'm seeing you look at her right now tells me everything I need to know."

Even being called out like that, Spencer couldn't make himself look away. And even if he did, he wouldn't have really known what to say. Because all that was running through his mind at the moment was how right Luke was. How much he couldn't help but feel warm and safe when he was in Y/N's presence, and how she made him feel like the only person in the world sometimes.

He wondered then if maybe in the next day or two he should tell her how he felt.

One by one each member of the team eventually left the bar to go home. Each time one of them did, Y/N gave them the biggest hug and mumbled an abundance of 'thank you's and 'I love you's, much like at the start of the night, only this time her words were slurred and higher-pitched and very much laced with alcohol.

The only three people left at the end of the night were her, Spencer, and Emily.

Y/N came up between them and wrapped both her arms around their shoulders, pulling them in for a messy group-hug. "How'r we gonna clean this place up?" she asked dramatically, looking around once they all pulled away.

"I'm going to clean this place up," Emily said, giving Spencer a knowing look. "Since it's your birthday, your best friend here is going to make sure you get home safe and sound."

He definitely didn't see that coming, but somehow he felt like he should have. Regardless, he was more than happy to take the job. Especially when Y/N jumped up and down and threw her arms around him, giving a big old, "Yaaayyyy!" into his neck. She pulled away and gripped his shirt, bouncing on her feet with a large grin. "We can take my car and we can listen t'that CD I was tellin' you about and when we get t'my house we can have a sleepover!"

"Anything you want," he told her with a smile. "Go get your stuff together and we'll go."

As she wandered around the bar to find her shoes that she'd taken off somewhere along the line, Emily nudged Spencer with a smile. "She loves you, you know."

"She's drunk," he countered.

And as if on cue, right then she held one of her shoes up in the air with a triumphant gleam in her eye. "One down!"

"Okay, well, even when she's not drunk, she still loves you."

Though his heart swelled at the thought, he changed the subject. "You don't have to clean everything up. I was going to come back tomorrow morning and do it myself anyway."

"Eh, don't worry, I'm happy to do it." Emily nodded towards Y/N, who was walking around with one shoe on and picking up the other on the floor next to the cake table. "Besides, something tells me you're gonna be a bit preoccupied with hangover duty."

I wouldn't want any other job, he thought to himself.

And even though the nearly-impossible task of getting her into the car should have stressed him out (she kept getting out of the car as Spencer walked around to the driver's side, until finally he promised her a cheeseburger if she would stay), he still wouldn't have had it any other way.

They stopped at McDonald's on the way home, like he promised, and she was practically buzzing with happiness with the food in her lap. She made him sit in the parking lot and wait until she was done eating so she wouldn't spill anything. And in the dim light of the car, parked under a streetlight and watching her eat her food while she rambled on about the most random things, Spencer didn't think he'd ever felt more content.

He tried to keep her quiet as they made their way up the steps to the third floor of her apartment building. They were going to take the elevator but Y/N insisted it would eat her alive, and he quickly agreed to take the stairs as not to make a scene and wake everyone up with her crying. Her shoes came off again on the second flight of stairs, because she kept tripping and then laughing, pretending to fall back and almost scaring him to death.

Now he was unlocking her apartment door with her shoes in his other hand as she clung to his side. As soon as the door was open, she pushed past him and called out for her cat, Murphy. It didn't take long before the white cat jumped up on the counter to meet her, and she squealed and enveloped him in a crushing hug, picking him up and spinning around to meet Spencer, who was closing the door behind him and setting her shoes on the ground.

"Say hi to Murphy! He loves when you come to visit!"

It was true. Though he never really found himself fond of cats, as soon as he visited Y/N's apartment for the first time Murphy clung to him immediately. It didn't take long for the two of them to become as well acquainted as Y/N had been to either of them. Whenever he came over, Spencer liked to think of them as a small little family.

"Hey, Murph," he said, reaching out to pet the cat's head as he wriggled a little under Y/N's strong clutch.

She dropped him after shoving her face in his fur, and wasted no time taking Spencer's hand. "C'mon, I've got some vodka in the cupboard."

As she dragged him further into the kitchen, he squeezed her hand and tried to pull her to him, away from the cupboard. "Y/N, it's almost one in the morning, you need to go to bed."

She turned to face him and whined. "But it's my birthday, you can't make me."

"Well, technically it isn't your birthday anymore since it's past midnight. So, really, I can make you. Come on."

She whined again as he dragged her along to the bedroom. Once they got inside, he sat her down on the bed and reached out to pull off her party hat, which was lopsided and almost placed on her forehead like a unicorn horn. But when he touched the string, she grabbed his hand.

"I wanna leave it on," she said softly.

"It's not safe, you could choke yourself in your sleep," Spencer countered, brushing her hand away and taking the hat off. As his fingers brushed her cheek, she sighed and closed her eyes, a few seconds before letting out a little giggle.

"That tickled," she laughed as he set the hat on her bedside table.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him, and he started to feel all warm again. "Sorry," he whispered, taking the time to memorize the way she looked right then. The curls in her hair had fallen flat, and her makeup was a little smudged, but the lazy smile on her face and the way she blinked up at him with her big, beautiful eyes would always be worth remembering. He could have stayed in that moment forever, just sitting in that comforting silence.

But alas, she was drunk, and unable to be quiet for more than ten seconds.

Y/N lightly poked him in the chest and laughed. "Hey, d'y'think Murphy ever gets tired?"

"I'm sure he does," was all Spencer said, trying to get her to lay down. She did so as she spoke, rambling on about what she thought her cat might have done when she was away at work. But she stopped talking altogether when Spencer tried to put a blanket over her.

"No," was all she said, kicking her legs up.

"You don't want a blanket?"

"No, I want you to be in the blanket with me."

He thought about it for a second before motioning for her to scoot over. "I'll lay with you for a little while, but you have to promise me you'll go to sleep, okay?"

She giggled triumphantly as he laid down beside her and draped the blanket over their legs. "I told'ya a sleepover would be fun."

Spencer reached out and lightly rubbed her arm, knowing that always got her to fall asleep. "I know you did."

But she didn't close her eyes. She was unusually quiet though, just silently staring at his face before she sharply pulled her arm away. "You're tickling me again."

"I thought you liked when I rub your arm, it helps you sleep," is all he said.

Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled it up to lay between them on the pillow, separating their faces. She placed it palm up and rolled up his sleeves so she could rub his forearm, too. Her touches weren't as light, but she giggled all the same. "Am I tickling you?"

He wanted to tell her the truth, which was that she was not tickling him, and it actually felt really nice. But because it might make her feel better, he lied, and told her, "Yes."

"Good," she laughed, moving her hand faster. Now she was just tracing his forearm with her middle finger like she might rub out a stain on the carpet, and Spencer tried to wiggle his arm away.

"Y/N..."

He didn't say it to be mean or irritated, in fact his voice was level and soothing as not to alarm her at all, but all the same she gasped and immediately pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"No," he reassured, moving a little closer to her. "You didn't hurt me, I'm ok—"

"Let me kiss it and make it feel better," she continued, ignoring him completely. Before he could stop her, she grabbed his arm and brought it to her mouth, pressing gentle lips to the crease of his elbow trough the fabric of his shirt, then moving the tiny kisses along up his arm until she made it to his wrist. She didn't stop there, continuing to kiss the palm of his hand and even along his fingers, right until she reached his fingertips.

He laid there, completely still and mesmerized as she flipped his arm over and worked her way down again, kissing the backside of his hand and keeping her lips pressed to his wrist for approximately four seconds. Then she flipped his arm over again and kissed the palm of his hand once more, repeating her many kisses until she got to his middle finger.

He should have seen it coming.

He was so caught up in the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin that it completely slipped his mind that she was still drunk. So when she wrapped her lips around his middle finger and sucked it into her mouth with a laugh, he pulled his arm away and sighed.

She actually cackled with laughter, slightly flailing her legs under the blanket. "Gotcha!"

"Ha-ha," Spencer deadpanned, wiping his finger on his shirt.

He wasn't really sure what to say once her laughter died down, but once he opened his mouth to suggest they try sleeping, she spoke first.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

He studied her for a moment. "You're not going to try anything funny, are you?"

She laughed, leaning forward and brushing her nose against his for the briefest of seconds before retreating and looking him in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it."

There was no way he could say no. "Alright. I'll be back in a second."

Spencer got out of the bed and turned to leave, but she leaned forward and grabbed his hand. "Wait! I have to tell you a secret first."

If he stayed and listened to what she had to say, it was probably dangerous territory, because in the movies this was always the moment where there were drunken confessions of things you never wanted to say out loud, right? And he didn't want to do that to her, but realistically she was probably going to say something ridiculous about Murphy. Right?

Nonetheless, Spencer turned around and looked down at Y/N. "What is it?"

She pulled his hand, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. "Come closer. It's a secret."

He leaned down, but she pulled him again. "Closer!"

Finally, he made his way down to her face, turning his head so she could whisper in his ear.

But she didn't. Instead he felt her press a kiss to his cheek, emphasized with a loud smooch-ing sound when she pulled away. He looked down at her to see the biggest smile on her face.

"S'all I wanted to say. You can go now."

He smiled back at her before nodding and leaving the room, his cheek and arm practically burning from where she'd kissed them.

And when he came back with her water, she was fast asleep.

***

More than anything she just wanted the banging to stop. But once she realized it was in her head, and it was there because she'd been drinking all night, her irritability was even worse.

"Fuck," Y/N grumbled as she struggled to open her eyes. When she did open them she found Murphy curled into a ball at the foot of her bed, his white fur a stark contrast to the deep maroon color of her comforter.

The next thing she noticed was the smell of something... burning? But there wasn't any sound to be heard other than the beating of her head, so she had to wonder if maybe somewhere outside there had been some kind of fire. Or maybe she was just imagining it.

She wasn't going to investigate, but then she heard her front door open, and despite the pounding in her head, Y/N sat up straight, almost scared out of her mind. Instinctively she reached beside her, knocking over a pink party hat in the process, and grabbing the baseball bat she kept there in between her bed and the table.

As quietly as she could, Y/N crept through the bedroom until she reached the door, pressing her ear against it to hear anything more. She heard plastic bags rustling around, and though that was fairly innocent in terms of menacing sounds, it still didn't quell the feeling that punched her in the pit of her stomach. Though, to be fair, she was certain a lot of that had to do with the copious amounts of whiskey and other liquor she drank the night before.

She took a deep breath before slowly swinging the door open and taking a few quiet steps into the hallway, just before she had to turn the corner to get into the kitchen. The noise got louder as she approached, and after taking another slow, deep breath, Y/N jumped out and held her bat out in front of her.

"FBI! What Are you doing in my house?"

"Holy shit!"

Spencer was standing in her smoky kitchen, clutching his hand to his chest. "Y/N, it's just me! Put the bat down!"

It clattered to the ground as she sighed out and shook her head. "What the hell, man, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Right back at you! I was just bringing you some breakfast..."

Y/N surveyed the kitchen and found that, sure enough, there were what looked like wrapped sandwiches on the counter. "Why is it all... burn-y in here? What happened?"

Spencer looked around nervously, his hands fumbling at his sides. "I, uh... tried to make you French toast. I know it's your favorite, and I know that greasy food is supposed to help with hangovers, so I tried to make some bacon, too, but it turns out that I really suck at multi-tasking in the kitchen, and I burned it all... So, I went with gas-station breakfast, which I figured was the next best thing."

The way he spoke reminded Y/N of a little kid who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to. He was extremely apologetic, almost in a way that made her think he thought she'd yell at him.

Now she remembered just a little of what happened the night before. She remembered drinking a lot and then Spencer taking her home, but she was so tired and out of it that all the little details weren't clear. Or present at all, really. All she knew when she looked at him in her kitchen right then, was that she'd never been more happy to see anyone while hungover. Especially since that someone happened to be her best friend and brought her breakfast.

She smiled and walked over to him. "That was really sweet of you, thank you."

Spencer looked down at her and smiled. "Sorry about scaring you."

"Eh, don't be. It was a good wake-up call," she laughed. "What would I do without you?"

He reached his hand out and brushed some of the hair from her face, at which she almost melted. "I think I should be asking you that question."

Something came to her mind just then, and she wasn't sure why. But she took the risk anyway, turning her head and kissing the inside of his palm.

"W—what was that for?"

Y/N shrugged. "I don't know. Just felt right."

She didn't know how long they stood there, smiling at each other, but it felt different, like suddenly the air around them had shifted overnight into something palpably electric. And it's that energy that urged her to say something she'd been afraid to say for so long.

"Hey, I uh... I don't know if this is weird timing, and you can say no even though it was my birthday yesterday, don't feel pressured to say yes, but I—"

"Yes."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I don't care," Spencer said simply. "Whatever it is you want, it's yours."

"So, if... If I asked you to dinner tonight—"

"Yes."

Her stomach churned, but this time it had nothing to do with the hangover. The pounding in her head was more of a dull thrum now because the pounding in her heart overpowered it. And it grew even more intense when her best friend took a step closer, placing his hand to the side of her face.

"I wouldn't kiss me right now if I were you," she warned, tilting her head to the side. "Hangover breath is basically a bio-hazard, and you're going to completely rethink going out with me."

Spencer shook his head and leaned in even closer. "I don't care."

As he kissed her, she lost herself in him completely and came to the conclusion that he was the only hangover cure she would ever need.

***

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff

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spookybreadstick · 3 years

Text

Here is something soft & sweet, as a humble apology for my prolonged absence... hope you all like it! <3 <3 <3

💞 Happiest Memories of the Pastas 💞

🍬 LJ’s happiest memory is playing with Isaac, once upon a time, before everything went south. LJ has sort of forgotten this memory, it was so long ago after all and it's a bit painful to look back on, but he does remember how it made him feel. Which is, very good and full of purpose. After all, this was what he was intended for. To be a friend to children, specifically Isaac.

🤍 EJ doesn't have very many happy memories. He supposes that his happiest memory was when he patched Toby up after a mission where he got hurt. Toby's a very chipper patient (he can't feel pain after all, and it wasn't a terrible injury either, so he was in a good mood) and he chatted away while EJ fixed him up. After EJ announced that Toby was all set to go, Toby had said, "Thanks, EJ! You're the best!" before he left the little 'infirmary.' It isn't much, but it made EJ feel very happy. He feels pretty lousy most days, about what he is, what he does, how he has to hurt people, but actually helping somebody was a nice change of pace. It made him feel more connected to his old self, and it makes him feel actually human. It's also just nice to feel appreciated as well, and it really just made EJ's day (Toby has no idea how much what he said meant to EJ).

🎮 BEN's happiest memory comes from a night he spent with Jeff, having a sleepover. In life, BEN didn't have any friends, much less any that would invite him to sleep over or even want to sleep over at his house. Here though, Jeff had become a great friend of his very quickly (and shortly after this incident, they truly became best friends). One day, they had a great time hanging out with each other and gaming. Jeff always said the funniest things to make BEN laugh, and he even laughed at BEN's jokes too! All was going great, although it was late at night by now. BEN had thought that Jeff would head back to his room, but instead he casually asked if he could just crash in BEN's room. BEN tried not to let it show, lest he look stupid, but he was ecstatic! He now had a great friend, who he just had a great time with, who actually wanted to continue hanging out and actually sleep over in the same room! He couldn't believe his luck, and he of course quickly agreed to this plan. That night, the two boys stayed up late, talking, laughing, and gaming. It was the night that really cemented the start of their best friendship.

🔪 Jeff's happiest memory comes from a time where he and Liu were very little. A time before the differences between the two brothers became more apparent, a time before their parents started to treat them differently, a time before the family fell into a cycle of toxicity, abuse, and neglect. A time before Jeff was subjected to the bullying and mistreatment that shaped him into who he is today. This was a time when Jeff was still just a little boy, wide eyed and cautiously optimistic about the world. It was right after his fifth birthday, and during an absolutely gorgeous day. It was a day that the two brothers played outside until the sun went down, and their mother called them in for dinner (featuring a favorite dish of theirs). They laughed and rough-housed and played for hours on end together, just the two of them in their own little world of brotherly love. In fact, right before their mother called them inside, the two had been laying on the grass together, side by side on their backs, when Liu had simply sighed happily and said that he was glad to have Jeff as his older brother. That had made little-Jeff feel incredibly good about himself, and he had responded that, while Liu was lucky to have Jeff as an older brother (oh, Jeff, he never did change, did he?), Jeff was glad that Liu was his little brother, too. It was a happy day for both boys, indeed.

🧣 Liu's happiest memory comes from a time where he and Jeff were young, probably about eight and seven, and their parents had left them alone for a whole weekend for the first time. He remembered feeling scared, because what if a burglar broke in the house? But Jeff had reassured him that nothing was going to happen to him, not while he was around to protect him. He even brought out a baseball bat to ensure Liu's safety, and that did make him feel better, knowing that he had a protective older brother in the house with him. That first night, they ordered pizza (feeling very grown-up) and watched movies late into the night. Liu remembers how excited he felt when Jeff told him not to worry about a bedtime, because they were the grown-ups in the house now, and grown-ups don't have bedtimes. The rest of the weekend passed by in a similarly fun fashion, and Liu looks back on this first weekend of freedom and fun with great fondness. Sully does not have any happy memories to speak of, sadly.

🖤 Jane's happiest memory is from one night that she won an award at her school, for her excellent grades, and her parents were so incredibly proud of her. Jane had felt quite accomplished, and her mother had even took her out shopping for a new dress for the occasion (she would have to walk across a stage to accept her academic award). After she received her award, the girl that she had a crush on at the time came up to her to congratulate her on the award, and to compliment her on her looks. Jane's parents then took lots of pictures with their daughter, took her out for a nice dinner, and kept telling her how proud they were of her. This was shortly after she came out to them as a lesbian as well, and it made her feel all the more validated that her parents not only accepted her for who she was, but also still loved her just the same and were very proud of her for her achievements.

⏰ Clockwork, sadly, does not have very many happy memories. In fact, the only happy memory that she has that really sticks out to her is the one week she spent in foster care, before being returned to her birth parents to suffer more abuse. That week she spent out of that house of abuse, and in the caring hands of her foster parents, was the best time she had in her whole childhood and probably whole life at this point.

💄Nina's happiest memory comes from a daddy-daughter dance that she attended with her father once. She doesn't remember too much about it honestly, it's more of just a happy, nostalgic feeling for her. She remembers getting dressed up happily in her best dress, and having a great time with her father. She especially liked that she could fit in with the other girls too, despite not having a mother (she often felt left out of a lot of mother-daughter activities, but here was an activity made exclusively for her and her father!) She remembers feeling very grown-up, as her father had allowed her to put on a bit of makeup at the age of around nine or ten, and she was also allowed to wear her mother's prized pearl necklace for the night, which made her feel connected to her mother and also like a bit of a movie star.

🧵Happy memories are not in his vocabulary, I'm afraid.

🎨 Helen's happiest memory comes from every time he's ever spent "in the zone" while painting, drawing, or otherwise creating art. It's not a one-time thing, it's an accumulation of happiness for him.

🎭 Tim's happiest memory comes from a night that he and Brian got high off of some stolen weed. They snuck out onto the roof of the mansion, and talked late into the night. He forgot about all his responsibilities and burdens for a night, and he felt like he could just truly be.

❓ Brian's happiest memory was a nice afternoon that he spent with Masky & Toby. It was nothing special, just a simple day of fishing and having a picnic lunch. He felt very connected to his two proxy partners, and it filled him with joy to see Tim so relaxed and Toby having some fun.

🪓 Toby's happiest memory was one of the last days he spent with Lyra. He doesn't remember too much of it, a lot of his trauma surrounding Lyra and her death has made him block it out, so it's more of a happy feeling than anything else. It does bring him comfort during hard times, and from what he does remember of it, it was a great day that he spent with his sister and it's precious to him now.

🧸 Sally's happiest memory was the day that Slender asked her if she'd like to be adopted by him. The two had spent a wonderful day together, and it was the cherry on top for him to ask her gently if she'd like to become his officially adopted daughter through a ceremony.

🌲 Slender's happiest memory was the day he decided to 'officially' adopt Sally as his, meaning that they performed a little ceremony at the mansion that "crowned" Slender as "the King of the Mansion"/Sally's father and "crowned" Sally as "the Princess of the Mansion" and Slender's daughter

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

And A-Fu Makes 4--Ch. 3

[Happy belated birthday, Jingyi! 🥳]

[Ao3 Link]

Things got a little better in school. Not too much. What they were learning was so boring that paying attention didn’t really make it better even when he did use his new rocks so his ears woke up. His ears just didn’t like what they were hearing. When Yellow-Father visited the Cloud Recesses and gathered him up and asked him all smiley what his favorite thing from class today was, A-Fu scowled. “When I leaved. ”

Yellow-Father’s eyebrows went crinkly. “An education like this is a great privilege, Fufu. You’re very lucky.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t feel lucky. Not never.”

His father’s crinkles turned into a little frown and he said, all serious, “There are a great many people who never get to go to school, let alone have the life you’re going to have.”

“Then they’re the lucky ones.”

After that, Yellow-Father closed his eyes and took a deep breath before smiling and asking if he found any good bugs lately--which was such good timing because A-Fu had ! He got to show Yellow-Father the little house he had made for them in the back garden with mud and sticks and a couple rocks--unfortunately, only a couple had actually stayed inside. And maybe that was because they were too busy sleeping on their backs with their legs all curled up but that was okay, because he held them up all proud and Yellow-Father agreed that yes, they were a very nice find and now he could go and wash his hands.

What actually really started to make school lucky was that they began going outside to train and use their practice swords more. A-Yuan may have been good at everything else and just a little bigger than him, but A-Fu was starting to feel great when he got to swing his sword around all strong and fast like his fathers. Up until now, no one at Cloud Recesses had let him whack anything, practically--it was all ‘hold it like this’ and ‘bow like this’ and ‘etiquette etiquette etiquette’. Blah blah blegh. Just another thing to forget. But A-Fu was finding out that his body was pretty good at remembering things, even if his brain wasn’t, and one time, even the teacher passed by and nodded, saying, “Just like that, Lan Fu,” and the sun came up in his chest all sparkly and happy.

He grinned over at A-Yuan, who was concentrating really hard on swinging straight down and didn’t see him, but it was totally okay, because the teacher had told him that he was good! He was doing so good!

After class, he ran all the way home through the sun coming down through the trees to the Hanshi and told the whole entire thing to Blue-Father about 5 times as they walked to the secret bunny patch in the woods. He even stopped on the path to stand with his practice sword to show him his stance and everything. “I’m so proud of you,” Blue-Father had said with a wide, warm smile, waiting for him to catch back up. “You’ve been working very hard.”

“I have! Watch, watch--I can do it so fast! So much faster than A-Yuan! I’m gonna kill all the bad guys!”

Blue-Father shook his head, still smiling, turning to walk beside him with Shuoyue held behind his back. “We should use our swords to protect people.”

Right away, A-Fu copied him, holding his practice sword behind him with his shoulders all straight and his chest puffed out. Their footsteps crunched on the white rocks, every once in a while matching up on a step. A-Fu tried to make them match more, but Blue-Father’s legs were too long. “Yeah, from bad guys that I’m gonna kill! When is the next war?” he asked, looking up at his blue father, all calm and tall against the trees. “Are we gonna win it?”

“Wars are not scheduled, silly boy. Nor should we wish for them.” He held out his hand--A-Fu switched his sword hand and took it as they kept walking. “Your die’s have fought very hard to give you a world free of war.”

What? That was the worst news! “No more wars ? How is people supposed to be heroes, then? That’s not fair, all you got to be heroes! Die, you shouldn’t have ruined it for the rest of us.”

Blue-Father gave a small hum of laughter through his nose before looking down at him with a smaller smile, shaking his head again. “In truth, wars aren’t about glory or heroes. A good leader sees them as a last resort, not something to seek out. The ones who suffer the most are the people who cannot protect themselves and those left behind--and so we dedicate ourselves to the service of those who need us. That should be your goal if you want to be a hero, not the killing. It's what your Uncle Wangji does, when he can. He is known for being where the chaos is.” He looked out into the deep green of the forest shadows. “There is nothing wrong with a peaceful life.”

A-Fu rolled his eyes and leaned way over, hanging from Blue-Father’s hand. “Boooring. I wanna fight--kshh kshh ksshhew!” he added really loud as he reached out to beat up a rock right next to the path, whacking it so loud ‘tok’s echoed around them, scaring a squirrel up a branch.

Blue-Father’s hand squeezed and tugged him back carefully. “A-Fu, don’t treat your sword that way, use it with respect.”

Sulkily, A-Fu stuck it behind his back again.

“And you will have plenty of opportunities to fight, in the life we lead. What’s more important is to have empathy and kindness. Ah, Wangji.” He nodded to him as they finally stepped into the little meadow, bunnies hopping up eagerly to see if they had treats in their pockets. “A-Yuan!” He added with delight as A-Yuan raced up and grabbed onto his thigh with a big grin.

Excited, A-Fu pulled his hand away and wrapped around his other leg, linking his feet behind his heel. “Walk! Walk!” he hollered and so Blue-Father did, walking with careful straight leg steps all around the bunny patch while they both giggled into each others faces when they swung by and the little white puffballs of rabbits scattered in front of them.

A-Fu loved playing near the rabbit hutches with his family--it smelled like sweet hay the rabbits ate and the clean water smell of the stream nearby which made cheerful noises. Some sun came through the thick leaves, but not a ton, so it was green and shady, even on sticky hot days. The grass was thick and fun to jump around and dance and wrestle on.

After 3 times around the whole meadow, Blue-Father shooed them off so he could sit, and A-Fu shyly went with A-Yuan over to go say hi to Uncle Wangji where he sat watching them with a guqin on his knees and a bunny nestled in the corner of his thigh. A-Fu showed him that he still had his rocks from school, tucked in his inner pockets, snug and warm. Uncle Wangji nodded with a little smile and A-Fu felt all shiny and bubbly and thought that this was maybe one of the best days ever. He sat right next to him, leaning on his leg, and told him what songs he wanted them to play when Blue-Father took out his xiao. The grownups played lots of music while they were there; dancey ones and pretty ones and boring ones they played all slow and sad. It was nice because the music was kept close by all the huge trees, like a private recital. A-Fu danced with A-Yuan to the fast ones, pretended to be underwater for the slow ones, then chased the bunnies around when there were too many of those--until A-Yuan made him stop.

Eventually, though, fathers started talking in between the songs, and that got long enough that the instruments just stayed in their laps and A-Fu got bored. Then, he had the greatest idea. He grabbed A-Yuan’s hand and pulled him up so his special speckley rabbit hopped out of his lap. (A-Fu had named it Poop-Eater and A-Yuan had named it Turnip and they both would not use each other’s name--A-Fu because he thought it was lame and A-Yuan because he thought it was gross--even though it was true , because he did eat poop, A-Fu had seen it.) Dragging A-Yuan over to where the grass was long and soft and pretty un-nibbled, he said, “Let’s do a dueling!”

A-Yuan held out his arms wide, showing him in his sleeves. “But I don’t have my practice sword.”

“Hmph. Well, okay, I have mine...so the duel is who can swing the sword the best. You go first.”

A-Yuan scrunched his face up and looked back at where Blue-Father and Uncle Wangji were chatting quietly about something, both petting the sleeping bunnies in their laps. “Do I gotta? I’m playing in bunnies and I'm tired.”

“Yes, we gotta, for really real! We can play in bunnies after!”

After one more longing look at the rabbits, A-Yuan sighed. “Okay.”

They practiced, back and forth and back and forth, and since A-Fu was so good in class, he was able to tell his cousin that his hands weren’t holding it right. Then, that his feet weren’t right, and then that he wasn’t swinging it fast enough or straight enough. It felt great to be the one in charge, the one who knew all the right answers, for once. Eventually, he rolled his eyes and asked, all smug, “Did you even pay attention in class? It’s not that hard. Are you trying at all?”

Right away, he knew he messed up.

A-Yuan’s face got all wobbly and red and his eyes went shiny. He dropped the sword and ran to Uncle Wangji sobbing, saying that A-Fu was being mean to him. A-Fu’s tummy dropped into his feet like when he had jumped off the too high wall. He ran to go hide behind his father--but, of course, he didn’t let him. Blue-Father found his hand and tugged him to his feet and made him stand up straight and tell them what happened. Uncle Wangji sat on the grass and held A-Yuan under his chin and listened to A-Fu explain with a quiet face that didn’t show what he was thinking at all. “I wasn’t making fun of him! We were playing!” There was a long silence, and A-Fu squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. “I’m not lying!”

Blue-Father’s even voice said, “Then tell us, A-Fu.”

Desperately, A-Fu looked up at him where he stood, still covering his ears. He was looking down at him with a serious face, eyebrows raised. He wouldn’t let Uncle Wangji yell at him.

...Right?

“Diedie… ”

“We need to take responsibility for the hurt we have caused. There is no getting out of it.”

“You were making fun of me,” A-Yuan sniffed, all miserable, turning in Uncle Wangji’s lap to look at him.

Everyone else was looking at him, too, and A-Fu got all hot and squirmy and ashamed because now everyone was mad and hated him. “I was just...I was teaching him...he wasn’t doing it right…” he whispered, his eyes all blurry.

He just wanted to be good at something. Why was he in trouble for being better than A-Yuan at something when A-Yuan had so many other things he was better at? It wasn't fair.

Uncle Wangji looked at A-Yuan, whose lip trembled as he said in a voice like a wobbly guqin string, “But you said it so mean.”

“I didn’t! That’s how they teach me !” A-Fu cried, pulling his hand down from his ear to scrub at his tears.

“Do you know it is wrong?” Uncle Wangji’s voice was quiet--which definitely wasn't yelling but it sure felt like it.

A-Fu just covered his face and didn’t say anything.

“Should you do it, if you are aware?”

“...No.”

Blue-Father knelt down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You know that this is not how we treat people. You need to practice empathy--think of how he is feeling. If it hurts you, it will hurt him. What do we say to A-Yuan?”

When A-Fu looked back at A-Yuan, seeing him still crying made A-Fu start crying again, which made A-Yuan start crying again and they hugged and A-Fu said he was so so sorry and he would never ever say anything mean to him ever again. A-Yuan forgave him right away, like he always did and hugged him back super tight. A-Fu saw Blue-Father smile a little at Uncle Wangji--who gave a teeny smile back. (A-Fu was getting better at being able to see them. They were there! Just quieter.) Then they both curled up on Blue-Father’s lap and played with the bunnies while Uncle Wangji played more nice songs on the guqin and things just all got so much better.

‘Empathy’ was a Blue-Father word--A-Fu noticed it popping up, like Blue-Father kept it in his pocket. Whenever he yelled when he got too mad or did something without thinking or talked before his mind caught up, it was ‘empathy empathy empathy’. Maybe it was his favorite or something.

Some of his other grown ups had pocket words, too--Great-Uncle Qiren’s was ‘Prohibited’ or ‘Impertinent’ and Yellow-Father’s was ‘Careful’. When A-Fu started looking, he kept noticing it more and more--when he played with A-Qiang a little too rough or balanced on the edge of the koi pond, he got a 'careful'. When he ran around right after a bath, he got a “Fufu, careful! ”

One time, he got a ton of ‘carefuls’ in a row, when he was in Koi Tower and he snuck out behind the nanny’s backs again. He went around and around in the halls to lose them until he was almost dizzy and when he finally stopped, he realized he didn’t recognize anything--there were no windows and more doors than usual, dark and sturdy. The walls didn’t have as many fancy curlicues and dangly bits as the rest of Koi Tower, more plain blue with just some gold circles studding the pillars every once in a while. Well. A-Fu just had no idea where this was.

He wasn’t worried, though, because when he poked his head around a corner, he spotted Yellow-Father facing away, talking to a black and gold someone in a doorway, so he dashed down the hall and catapulted into his father’s legs and yelled a hello with a big grin. It wasn’t until he looked up at his father’s face that he noticed he wasn’t smiling back like he usually was. His expression was all tight and unhappy, his eyes darting between A-Fu and the man he was talking to.

The man was smiling down at him, though. But his eyes weren't friendly--they were dark and... waiting. They glittered like a snake and A-Fu even liked snakes--but he was pretty sure that people shouldn’t have the same sort of eyes.

Yellow-Father’s hand squeezed his shoulder as he tried to turn him around quick. “Fufu, you are not allowed down here, you need to--”

But A-Fu spotted something and he squirmed back around in his hands. “Why do you have that?” He pointed at the man’s hand where it sat on his hip with only the pinky covered by the black leather of his glove. “That’s weird.”

“Lan Fu-- ”

The fact that Yellow-Father just full-named him flew out of his head because A-Fu decided right then and there that he didn’t like this guy when he said, “Wow, you’re a rude little shit, aren’t you?” Then, the stranger man tilted his head, his wide, weird smile growing wider and weirder. “Ooooh, is this Er-ge’s spawn?”

A-Fu jutted his chin forward and folded his arms. “No, I’m--”

“That’s enough. I think you have somewhere to be,” Yellow-Father said. And A-Fu froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. Because Yellow-Father was never rude, no matter what--but his voice had been rough and cold like ice and he was staring at the snake eyed man. And he was finally smiling; all hard like a warning.

For some reason, that seemed funny to Snake Eye Guy and his teeth peeked through. “You’re not even going to introduce us?”

“No.” Yellow-Father took A-Fu by both shoulders and turned him, marching him right back down the hall.

“Rude. Do you like sweets, brat?” Snake Eye Guy called after them.

A-Fu scowled back over his shoulder as Yellow-Father kept steering him in front down the hallway, almost tripping him on his feet. “Yeah,” he said, super tough, just like Gray-Father would. “Why?”

“Come find me if you ever want any.” Then, he laughed, delighted when Yellow-Father’s fingers tightened on his shoulder like claws. “Oh, what, Lianfang-zun? What do you think I’m going to do to him? It’s just candy.” His mocking followed them around the corner A-Fu had to take at a jog.

Yellow-Father had hustled them down the strange corridors until they found the sun again. He was still squeezing until A-Fu yelped that he was squishing his bones out, and he let go right away. When he stopped to kneel down and rub them, he started scolding with a worried frown, “Fufu, you cannot keep doing this. You need to stay with your nannies and out of places that are not meant for you. You have to be more careful.”

A-Fu just wanted to know who that guy was and why his hand was like that and why he was so weird and why was Yellow-Father so mad at him and did he really have candy?

And Yellow-Father wouldn’t answer any of his questions at all. He just kept saying, so serious, that A-Fu could never be around him again or talk about him and that he needed to be careful. And usually A-Fu was annoyed at new rules, but this one seemed to make sense. It would also be pretty easy to follow, because he gave him the creeps and he didn't really want to have to talk to him again. But he still wanted to know-- “Why?”

“He’s not someone a child should be around. If he ever tries to talk to you again, you come and find me right away, Fufu. Do you promise me?”

“Who was he?”

“Do you promise ?”

A-Fu had to think. “Yeah. Why?”

“Just...don’t worry about him. You shouldn’t see him again, but if you do, leave at once.”

“Are you mad? Why can’t I talk about him?”

“...Because it would be gossip. Gossip is forbidden.”

A-Fu guessed that made sense. Maybe. He reached up and grabbed Yellow-Father’s hat dangly, asking, “Are you mad? Are you mad at me?”

Yellow-Father sighed and rubbed his face and then finally smiled at him, all squinchy and small and harassed. “No. No, I’m not mad. I’m sorry.” He pulled A-Fu in close and squeezed, kissing his forehead.

“Is he a bad guy?” A-Fu asked Yellow-Father’s neck. “I can beat him up for you, I’m getting really good at swords.”

Yellow-Father huffed out a breath and smoothed A-Fu’s hair down. “I’m sure you are. But no. Just...just be more careful. Don’t come here again. Stay with your nannies.”

“Why? Careful what?”

Yellow-Father pulled back and rubbed his temple. “It’s time to go back, now--and no more escaping! You can’t be so naughty, what are you going to do to my heart, making me worry? I’m going to have to have a talk with your nannies….”

If ‘Careful’ was Yellow-Father’s pocket word, maybe one of Gray-Father’s pocket words was the grownup word 'Conviction'. A-Fu first learned about it when he went to stay at the Unclean Realm for a whole entire month in the summer.

It was so much fun--he went into town with Uncle Huaisang a lot and hid in the sweet smelling fabric at the silk shops and got a little toy fan, just like Uncle Huaisang’s. Almost every day they went down and both got candied hawthorn sticks as they walked around and looked at things. A-Fu’s favorites were the toy stands--he got pinwheels for him and A-Yuan and A-Ling and A-Kui. He tried to get them in all the Clan Colors but they didn’t have red, so he got A-Kui yellow, too.

Sometimes, though, they would go into the forest and find a little stream where Uncle Huaisang would tie up their sleeves and they would try to catch fish with their hands. Uncle Huaisang was really bad at it and A-Fu told him so. He got so offended that he splashed him and got his robes all wet. And one day, they followed a little blue bird for-ev-er until A-Fu started complaining and scared it away. Uncle Huaisang had paid him in candy to not repeat any of the words he yelled at the sky as it flew off above the trees. Oh well. A-Fu liked hunting for things on the ground more anyway, like frogs or turtles. They couldn’t fly away and they were easy to stuff in his pockets or his sleeves. One time, he brought back, like, five toads and Gray-Father said the same bad words as Uncle Huaisang when they got on his important letters. From then on, toads were banned from the Unclean Realm, which made A-Fu grumpy. But at least he still had the 3 salamanders he found and he was learning new vocabulary words, like he did for school.

Other times, he would help weed and water the vegetable garden out behind Uncle Huaisang’s room. They had planted it together the last time that A-Fu had stayed a million years ago and things were still growing--but there were a couple beans and lettuce and carrots he got to munch on after they rinsed them off. It was kind of boring, but he got to look for worms and eat, so it wasn’t so bad.

Nie Zonghui, Gray-Father’s second in command, always had a nice smile and showed him how he could use his double sabers, which was the coolest thing next to Baxia. Now that he actually knew things about swords, A-Fu followed him around a lot when he was doing practice drills in the training yard with all the pink flower trees around it, copying his moves with sticks, since his practice sword was back in the Cloud Recesses. “I’m not certain I should be teaching you these,” Nie Zonghui said with a smile down at him as A-Fu hacked at a practice dummy’s butt. “Sabers and swords use different techniques and I don’t want to spoil your learning before you even start.”

“Well, if it’s my sword, I can use it how I want, right?”

“Mm. Not quite. You’ll be taught Lan skills.”

A-Fu frowned, wiping sweat off of his face with his sleeve, then shoving his headband up when it slipped. “Then I’ll get two--one sword, one saber and I’ll use them in two hands like you and it will be the coolest thing anyone has ever seened.”

Nie Zonghui grinned and looked over at the Nie shijie that was snickering nearby at the next dummy. “Uh, that will be a sight. I look forward to it.”

A-Fu nodded firmly at them. “Yeah, you do that.”

When Gray-Father stopped doing boring work talking to people and came out on the training grounds, A-Fu would challenge him to a duel and fight him with a Nie practice saber. It didn't always go so well because Gray-Father knew more moves, but when it got too complicated, A-Fu just whacked his shins and knees really hard and then tackled his tummy so they fell on the dirt and laughed. When Gray-Father wasn’t around, the cool Nie disciples sometimes let him whack them in the knees! He just had to promise to avoid the nards, which he thought was fair.

He would go walking and playing with Gray-Father on days where he was back from Night Hunting and meetings, riding on his back or one shoulder like he was Clan Leader--or even a King! When he sat up there, he was so tall, he could probably be in charge of anybody! Sometimes Gray-Father was grumpy and not in the mood for a lot of wrestling. Sometimes he told A-Fu to ‘calm down and cut it out’ when he got super bouncy or loud. But most times, he was happy to see A-Fu and threw him up into the air or pretended to eat him or asked him all about his day. And A-Fu was so super happy to see him too, because he missed him.

Sometimes, though, he got a little sad and missed Blue-Father and A-Yuan and his Cloud Recesses friends and the bunnies and Uncle Wangji and even Great-Uncle Qiren. Sometimes, he had nightmares where he woke up in a place he didn’t know and no one would look at or talk to him. Those times, Gray-Father would let him crawl into bed once he knocked on the door. He would hug him close to his chest and pat his back and say that he missed Blue-Father, too, and he wouldn’t ever leave A-Fu anywhere he didn’t know. The Unclean Realm was his home, just like Cloud Recesses and just like Koi Tower, but he just had a whole bunch more practice of Cloud Recesses. He was used to the night noises of the bugs and the shush of the tree outside his window when the wind blew. Well, he told his father, A-Fu just needed to stay here more often, that’s all! And he had smiled.

When Gray-Father heard about how good he was getting at swords in school, he was so totally proud of him. His father ruffled up his hair and smushed his cheeks and said, “Practicing a lot, are you? You’re going to be a fearsome warrior just like your die? Smite all the evil?”

A-Fu got that happy sparkly feeling bubbling up again. “Yeah!”

Uncle Huaisang grinned and fwipped his fan shut, patting A-Fu’s shoulder with it. “Ah, good job, good job! What about reading and writing, xiao-Fu? I bet your calligraphy is going to be impeccable!”

A-Fu wrinkled his nose--peckable? "We don't keep birds like that in the Cloud Recesses, shushu," he reminded him, all patient. Ugh, did he ever think about anything else besides birds?

His uncle and his father looked at each other. "Oh, of course! My mistake. But I bet with your shu-gong on your case, you're the top of the class!"

A-Fu shrugged, flapping his toy fan open and closed really fast, the way that made Uncle Huaisang wince (and he did). “I hate reading. It’s stupid and hard. I like doing swords way more, I’m better at stabbing. ” When he said it, he jabbed the fan forward with both hands toward Gray-Father’s chest.

Gray-Father did a complicated twisty thing with his hand and snatched it right from A-Fu’s fingers, bopping him on the head with it. “Good boy, practicing.”

A-Fu wrapped both arms around the sting and scowled. “Hey!”

Uncle Huaisang sighed. "Aiya, another one. Promise me you'll at least still paint with me?"

Before he could answer, Gray-Father asked, “How are you with a bow and arrow? Have you started yet? Maybe we could try hunting sometime soon.”

Uncle Huaisang made a scrunchy face, folding his arms. “Da-ge, don’t you think that’s too rough for him? And... would Er-ge approve?”

Some of the happy went away from Gray-Father’s face and he looked over at Uncle Huaisang. “I went out with die around his age. And Xichen has agreed that he should have a broad education.”

“But he’s just a baby!”

What!

Extremely offended, A-Fu puffed up and raised his fists. “I’m not a baby! I can hunt! Die, die, I can hunt, can’t I?”

“Of course you can. I can take you later today. How about it?”

When A-Fu cheered, Uncle Huaisang rolled his eyes and muttered something, fanning himself real fast.

When they went, it was still a nice day but the sun was so bright when it peeked through the leaves, A-Fu had to squint against it and sweat kept trickling down his neck, even though the air was cool up in the mountains. They were both clopping through the forest on Gray-Father’s big brown horse, Leiting, with A-Fu perched in front on the saddle. He felt very important and tall and he kept very quiet just like Gray-Father told him to be, looking around with his practice bow in his lap. When he snuggled back against him, he felt Gray-Father chuckle in his belly and he reached down to pat A-Fu’s chest. Then, his father sat up, straight and quick, and twisted to the side, shooting his bow with a twunnnnng before A-Fu even knew what was happening.

And it turned out that Uncle Huaisang was actually right.

Because when they got down and found the arrow butt poking up from the bushes, A-Fu’s tummy clenched up tight like a fist. The other end was stuck in a bunny. It was lying there all floppy with blood coming out of its mouth and nose. The one dark eye he could see was looking at the sky, reflecting the sun coming through the leaves. It wasn’t moving. It wasn’t ever gonna move again.

It was dead.

And all A-Fu could think was that this bunny wasn’t ever going to feel the hot sun again or eat a flower or anything.

He had heard about killing before, and he knew what dead was. Kind of. Sort of. He had just never thought about it for Really Real, actually happening. It was for stories and legends. It hadn’t meant anything before now.

Suddenly, the nice day was horrible and awful and he burst into tears, startling Gray-Father and Leiting, who swung his huge head around to stare at all the noise. Then, he puffed out a breath and shook his head with a jangle.

“Why did w-we gotta shoot it!? It’s j-just a bun-unny!”

Gray-Father frowned and knelt down next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “What did you think hunting was, child?”

“I do- hic- on't know! Why did you do that?!”

“We hunt animals and take them home for their fur and meat. For food.”

He stared down at the bunny’s big gray body, just laying there on the ground. “Food?!”

“That’s how we eat. What did you think was in rabbit stew?”

“I don’t k-know ! Bits! P-Parts!”

With a face screwed up, Gray-Father pinched his nose with his fingers, then looked at A-Fu again. “You thought we just cut parts of an animal off? That would be cruel, their legs and things don’t grow back. Chicken is chickens. Pork is pigs. We kill them and eat their meat, just like wolves and tigers do. It’s the natural order of things.”

This was the worst news in the world. All this time, he had been eating silly chickens and fluffy rabbits? They were dying? No wonder there were Lan rules about not eating meat or killing in the Cloud Recesses! He wrapped his arms around his tummy and yelled, “I hate it!! I’m-m never gonna kill an-nything ever!”

Sighing, Gray-Father picked him up. A-Fu put his arms around his neck and wiped his nose on his shoulder, smushing his face into his chest. He smelled like leather and the sun. With a thump, Gray-Father sat down on something, maybe a log, patting his back. “We are cultivators. One day, it will be your job to kill evil things--”

“Bunnies aren’t bad guys! They never hurt anyone! ”

Pat pat. “I never said that. Listen to me. You don’t have to like it, but it’s important to know what goes into your food. Everything in this world has its price.”

“I’m n- never gonna eat meat ag-gain!”

“Child--”

“No ! Never! It’s ho-horrible!”

A-Fu felt him heave another sigh as he kept pat-patting. “Alright, alright, deep breath. It’s your choice--you’ll be like your Blue-die and rest of the Lan. If this is what you decide, then we’ll make you vegetarian food when you come here...and I’m sure the cooks in Koi Tower will do the same. But you can’t be picky about what you eat, because you need to grow up strong. You’ll eat what’s put in front of you.” Gray-Father peeled him back and looked down at him with a serious face as A-Fu sniffled. “That means no more of Jin-shao-furen’s rib and lotus root soup or pork bao. No sneaking things with meat from the kitchen just because you get tired of it. If you have a conviction about something, you stick to it. It means nothing if it changes when you please--that’s not conviction, that’s convenience. Do you understand?”

This was obviously a way bigger decision than he had thought when he first said it. He scrubbed at his eyes and stared at the threads sparkling on his father’s robes in the sunlight as he thought. They were bright gold in the dark green, like the fish scales in Uncle Zixuan and Aunt Yanli’s koi pond. “...N-no more pork bao? Or bo-mu’s soup?”

Gray-Father raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Or chicken or fish or any sort of meat.”

He snuck another peek over at the arrow poking up out of the bushes, then stuck out his chin, crossed his arms and announced, “Yes. Never.”

With a big, rough thumb, Gray-Father wiped his tears away from his cheeks, then rested his hand on his shoulder. It was really warm. “Alright. Think more before you decide, because it’s a big change. And if you believe in something, I expect you to mean it.”

A-Fu wasn’t going to think more because he meant it, he really, really did. He didn’t even look at the body of the rabbit as Gray-Father brought it home and he hid behind his hands when they stopped by the kitchen to drop it off. When a golden Jin butterfly fluttered from the sky, Gray-Father scowled and lifted A-Fu down from Leiting’s big back and set him on the ground. “Go find Huaisang. I’ll be by later.”

Instead, A-Fu first wandered to his room and ate the rest of the sticky candied hawthorn that he had forgotten next to his bed and felt a little better. Then, he went and found Uncle Huaisang. He burst right into his room and announced how terrible hunting was. “Did you know they kill the animals!?” he demanded up at him. “Did you know that? I think everyone should!”

Uncle Huaisang pressed his lips together, looking at the door like it had said something rude. Then, he took A-Fu out into their garden and together, they threw seeds on the warm ground and watched the different birds come fluttering down, bright as little bits of colored cloth. He even showed A-Fu how to follow them from behind and reach down to catch it. He wouldn’t let A-Fu try on his own, cause he might grab too hard, but he let him hold one really, really gentle in his hands after he caught it.

It was tiny and smooth and he could feel its little heart beating super fast against his fingertips through its fluff as it looked around. It was so light and small that he all of a sudden got worried that he would squeeze too hard and kill it, so he let it go.

The rest of the day while he played and ate and ran around and snuggled with Gray-Father, the rabbit totally wasn’t even in his head.

But that night, after he was tucked into bed and the lantern got blown out, he laid there and thought about the bunny and death. What if they killed a baby bunny's mommy and now it was all alone in the dark? What if it was a Cloud Recesses bunny's cousin? What if they had just killed A-Yuan's bunnies’ A-Yuan? A-Yuan would cry and cry and cry all day if he had seen.

Rolling over onto his back, he watched the branches outside wave against his ceiling in the moonlight, rustling outside his window in the wind that blew in the sweet smell of flowers. Death seemed to be what big, strong things did to littler, weaker things. It made sense--people were bigger and stronger than the bunny, so they killed it. Tigers were bigger and stronger than regular people, so they killed them.

Were his birth parents small and weak? They had to be. Had someone shot them through the heart, just like Gray-Father did today? He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them, green and black speckled clouds of stars squishing around in the dark. Before today, they had just been a story Blue-Father told him. It hadn’t been real life. And he never really thought or wondered about them dying; they just were dead already. But he guessed that they didn’t just come that way because dead people couldn’t have babies. It was weird.

It was better that he had his real fathers, now. They wouldn’t ever leave him and Gray-Father could beat up every tiger.

When he got back to the Cloud Recesses at the end of the month, he made sure everyone knew what hunting really was. “And the bunny just died!”

Great-Uncle Qiren sipped from his tea cup, then set it back down in front of him. “Yes, that is the nature of hunting. If you’re worried, it does not sound like the creature suffered.”

“Uh…” No, he hadn’t thought about that. “That’s good. I guess.”

Blue-Father squeezed the base of his neck, comfortingly. “That must have been quite a shock if you weren’t expecting it.”

“Yeah….Did my birth parents get shot by an arrow?”

Blue-Father took in a quick breath, but it was Great-Uncle Qiren who said, in a quieter, kinder voice, “No, Lan Fu. They died in battle, protecting their Clan. You don’t need to know more than that.”

“Why?”

“There is no need to trouble your mind with such knowledge while you are young. Know they did what they could to protect you. As Xichen does now.”

“I won’t be troubled!”

Great-Uncle Qiren shook his head, mouth a tiny bit smiley under his moustache. “Enough.”

“Will you tell me later? When I’m older?”

He tilted his head a little. “Perhaps.”

“7?”

“No, it will be many years. Do not ask again, I will not answer.”

A-Fu looked up at Blue-Father, who was petting the ends of his hair where it laid over his shoulders, watching him with a soft smile. “I’m never gonna go hunting again,” he said, firmly. “I’m gonna eat like a Lan always.”

Blue-Father’s eyes curved up and Great-Uncle Qiren made a little bit of a pleased face and nodded. “It is wise of you to consider the sanctity of life and purity of your body. It is why we have this rule.”

Huh! There were good reasons for rules! A-Fu never knew.

When he told his class, some of them already knew about it, like the older kids and A-Yuan--which wasn’t surprising because A-Yuan knew everything. But a lot of them asked questions, which he did his best to answer while feeling very important. They asked him things like ‘did you see its ghost?’ and ‘was it scary?’ and he demonstrated being dead a couple times, then Gray-Father being the hunter. After a while, they all wanted to try and they ended up all taking turns pretending to die and kill each other in a big game around the practice yard, which was really fun! Until Teacher Lan Hai came back outside and had them practice tightrope again.

#my fic #my stuff #3zun raise jingyi au #3zun raise jingyi au content #3zun

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viastro · 4 years

Text

euphoria | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: in which you fail to greet your best friend happy birthday right at the stroke of midnight.

ミ★ genre: best friends to lovers!au, slice of life, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 3,324

ミ★ pairings: jeonghan x female reader

ミ★ notes: this is a bit late !! but i wrote this fluffy oneshot in honor of our angel’s birthday, yoon jeonghan! i hope you guys enjoy it <3

Jeonghan’s been your best friend from the moment the two of you entered high school and got paired up to introduce each other to your class. He was still losing the baby fat in his face, and you were both around the same height. It was just the two of you against the world at that time, you’re unsure of what you would do if Jeonghan wasn’t in your life. You blossomed earlier than Jeonghan, growing into your features and knowing what flatters you and what doesn’t.

Things changed once the two of you entered university. Jeonghan had a growth spurt, now a whole head taller than you. The baby fat in his cheeks now long gone, sharp cheekbones now replacing it. Sometimes you miss his bread cheeks, you used to just spend your time squishing his face to tease him. His fashion sense improved immensely as well, perhaps it’s because of the kdramas you forced him to watch with you. His long hair was also cut short and dyed a beautiful shade of lavender. It was blonde at first, but one night you told him that your favorite color was lavender.

He showed up at your house a week later with lavender hair.

That happened to be the week that you realized you were in love with him as well.

Jeonghan gained a lot of attention at your university, getting multiple confessions and handmade chocolates whenever it was Valentine’s day. You would walk across campus and see your lavender haired best friend surrounded by men and women attempting to get the pretty boy’s attention.

You learned to steer clear of Jeonghan on Valentine’s day for the sake of you not losing an arm. He understood though, as he would later come to your dorm and the two of you would eat the chocolates together. One time in your guys’ second year of uni he asked you why you never made him chocolates on Valentine’s day.

“When will you confess your love for me, mm?” Jeonghan asks you with a hint of a smirk on his face. You have come to realize that Jeonghan dying his hair black made him look more intimidating rather than soft. So the warmth rushing to your cheeks isn’t that surprising to you based on this discovery. However, you’re still silently cursing the Gods for making your best friend incredibly handsome. You decide to play along with Jeonghan, because two can play at this game. Leaning in closer to his face, his eyes widen slightly at the sudden close proximity, “Yn?”

You smile at the fact that you were able to make him flustered, popping one of the chocolates into your mouth before leaning back. The sweetness of the chocolate floods your taste buds, and you send a wink to a now flabbergasted Jeonghan.

“I can’t cook, Jeonghan.”

You and Jeonghan never thought that your duo would later become a group of fourteen people. However, you meet a lot of new people in college. So you and Jeonghan expanding your friend group in your second year of uni should not be this surprising, but it was. Considering the fact that you’re now surrounded by thirteen handsome men on campus.

It’s more of a pain on Valentine’s day now.

However, you strongly believe that Jeonghan’s birthday might be one of the worst days to spend on campus. With gift, after gift being thrown at him and almost everyone wanting his attention. It’s exhausting, which is why you typically avoid him on campus on his birthday as well.

Today is that cursed day.

“Happy birthday, Jeonghan!”

“Jeonghan I got you this sweater!”

“Jeonghan!”

You glance up from your journal to see your recently dyed blonde haired best friend getting crowded around by everyone, and you squint at the sight. Turning away from the view, you attempt to try and continue drawing a photo of the fruit your art class was assigned to draw. You’re not even an art major, but you wanted to take the class for the sake of having a calming course among your STEM classes.

However, as you continue to try and draw the apple, you realize that art class isn’t as calming as you originally thought it would be. You set down your pencil and tilt your head at the fact that your apple looks more like a grotesque raccoon. “How the fuck-”

Mingyu walks down the stairs and into the square in plans of going to visit Jeonghan. Only to pause and grimace at the sight of Jeonghan trying to move past the crowd with Joshua at his side, and soon decides that he’d much rather greet his friend a happy birthday! later.

Mingyu looks around until he finds you sitting at one of the tables in the square, and he lets out a chuckle at the disgusted look on your face. He walks up and settles down beside you, causing you to glance up and immediately let out a smile.

“Mingyu!”

“Yn! Have you greeted Jeonghan yet?” Mingyu asks, and you shake your head as you close your journal and place it back into your backpack. You turn your head and look over to see Jeonghan and Joshua finally escaping through the crowd and running out of the square, gifts in hand as they do so.

“Where do we go?!” Joshua asks hurriedly as they sprint, and Jeonghan gasps for air before responding with,

“Up your ass!”

“The FUCK!”

You chuckle at the duo once they’re now out of sight, “Ah, they finally escaped.”

“Can’t believe he gets that many gifts on his birthday from people he’s only spoken a word to.” Mingyu says with an amused smile on your face, and you lean back, squinting at the tall man. He turns and glances at you, eyes widening slightly at the expression on your face. “What?”

You reach out and bonk his head, and Mingyu lets out a whine, patting the area you hit him. He pouts at you, “Why did you hit me!?”

“Cause you also get that many gifts on your birthday! Must I remind you that the thirteen of you are literal heart throbs on campus?” You exclaim, and Mingyu lets out a giggle. “Ah, right.”

Rolling your eyes, you open your mouth to scold him some more, only to pause when your phone vibrates on the table. Turning your head you glance at the screen, seeing a text message from the man of the hour.

jeongjeongie: you didn’t greet me today D:<

shiT THEY’RE GONNA GET M

“Ooo~ someone’s in trouble. You always greet him at midnight, what happened?” Mingyu asks, and you roll your eyes at the message. You turn off your phone before letting out a sigh, looking up at the blue sky.

“I wanted to change it up this year. We’re going to hangout tonight anyways, he’s just being a big baby.” You mutter, a hint of a smile on your face when you turn back towards Mingyu. He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement with the last part of your sentence. He tilts his head at you after a moment, and you mimic the action. “Mm?”

Mingyu shrugs, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, “You finally gonna confess as a 22nd birthday present?”

You sputter and immediately bonk Mingyu’s head again, resulting in a lot of whines and you having to pat his head in apology for hitting him too hard. You shoot him a glare after making sure he’s okay, and Mingyu squints back at you.

“Based on your reaction, I think I was right.” Mingyu grumbles, and he watches as your eyes turn into slits. You pout and look away, muttering to yourself, “Was it that obvious?”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before Mingyu’s eyes widen and he gasps, turning back towards you. You glance at the latter, seeing him gaping at you.

“What?”

“DEADASS?!” Mingyu asks loudly, and you raise a finger to your mouth, shushing him for being so loud. You’re sure that you must’ve gained the attention of some of Jeonghan’s admirers based on Mingyu’s volume. “Shut up!”

“I was just joking! I knew that you loved him but I didn’t think you were ever going to confess!” Mingyu whisper-shouts and you cover your face with your hands. You peek at him through your fingers to see him still staring at you in shock, and before you know it, the blush takes over your features.

“Were my feelings that obvious?” You ask, and Mingyu nods his head as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Based on the fact that the two of you stare at each other as if you’re the only ones in the room, I’d say it’s obvious to us. Maybe not to you guys though.”

You purse your lips, letting out a tired sigh at the fact that maybe, just maybe, Mingyu is right. He lets out a laugh at your defeated expression, reaching out and patting the top of your head fondly.

“It’s cute, yn. Don’t worry. It’ll be better than any gift Jeonghan could’ve received from his admirers.”

“Can’t believe she didn’t greet me.” Jeonghan grumbles as he walks up to his apartment, putting in his password into the doorknob. It’s now 10 pm at night, and he’s just now getting back from his birthday dinner with his friends. His arms are tired from holding all the gifts he received, and he’s also petty at the fact that you haven’t greeted him.

Once the door unlocks, he steps in and turns on the lights, only to get blasted in the face with confetti.

“What the fu-”

“Happy birthday, Hannie!” You greet with a big smile on your face, and Jeonghan squints at you once all the confetti falls to the floor. You tilt your head to the side, and he reaches out, flicking your forehead before stepping past you. You let out a whine and follow after him, “Bitch! That hurt!”

“My heart hurts, ya know? Cause my best friend in the whole wide world didn’t greet me with a happy birthday at midnight!” Jeonghan exclaims as he sets the numerous gifts onto the floor. You giggle as you follow after him, finding satisfaction in his reaction. He glares when he hears your giggle, putting up his overcoat onto a hanger and shoving it into the coat closet. He turns back towards you, finding that endearing smile on your face again. “You think my pain is funny?”

“Let me show you what I prepared for your birthday.” You tell him, reaching your hand out towards the blonde. Jeonghan purses his lips, letting out a sigh in defeat when you pout at him. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and you grin excitedly, pulling him out towards his balcony. Jeonghan lets out a whine in protest, “Yn! It’s cold and I just took off my coat-”

You push the curtains away and open the sliding door, the rest of Jeonghan’s complaint dying in his throat once he sees what you’ve prepared. You’ve essentially created a pillow fort on his balcony, with a lantern underneath the blanket and numerous pillows and snacks. You smile, gesturing towards your creation, “Tada!”

Jeonghan glances down at his feet, feeling a bit emotional at the fact that you prepared this for his birthday. He didn’t think that you remembered the time he sleepily told you that he misses when the two of you made pillow forts, but he should’ve known that you would.

“Look! I even brought my laptop so that we can watch movies like before too. Am I great, or am I great?” You ask excitedly, and Jeonghan finally smiles softly at you. You open your mouth to explain all the snacks you bought as well, only to get cut off when Jeonghan pulls you to him in a warm embrace, nuzzling his head into your hair. You close your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist with a smile gracing your features.

“Thank you, it almost makes up for you not greeting me first this year.” Jeonghan mutters after a moment, and you laugh, pushing him away as he giggles. You point towards the pillow fort, “Are we gonna go in and watch movies or what?”

Jeonghan smiles, nodding his head and stepping out of his apartment and onto the balcony. He crawls into the makeshift fort, looking around at the materials you used to make the comforter stay in position. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of the fairy lights above him that are not turned on, and you grin.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be magical.” You tell Jeonghan, and he glances down at you right as you press the switch that turns on the lights. His breath gets caught in his throat when you turn and smile at him, the fairy lights casting a glow over your features that make you look absolutely ethereal.

You begin to explain how much of a pain it was for you to set up the fort as you open up the snacks and turn on your laptop. However, Jeonghan is hardly listening due to the numerous thoughts running through his head. You take note of his silence after you ask what movie he wants to watch, and turn your head to see Jeonghan just staring at you as if he saw a ghost.

You raise an eyebrow at the blonde, reaching out and waving your hand across his face. He finally blinks and you let out a laugh at the expression on your face, “Are you okay? You froze for a second, it was as if I was in a zoom call.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. I just spaced out for a sec.” Jeonghan says as an excuse, and you nod your head, not questioning it. However, the hint of a smile graces your features at the fact that you caught him staring at you. You point to your laptop screen to change the subject, “What movie do you wanna watch, birthday boy?”

Jeonghan purses his lips as he scrolls through the numerous options, before finally deciding on The Greatest Showman. You clap your hands, obviously pleased with the choice as you turn it on. Settling back into the pillows, you pull one of the blankets over both you and Jeonghan’s legs. You hand him the chips you bought, and the two of you eat quietly and make some commentary as you watch the movie.

It’s halfway through when you begin to feel tired, having stayed up the night before unable to sleep due to the thought that Jeonghan could possibly reject your kiss. Jeonghan notices as you’ve become more quiet, and he turns his head to see you struggling to keep your eyes open. He smiles at this, reaching out and patting your head.

“Yn.” Jeonghan begins causing you to wake up a bit. You turn your head to see the blonde staring at you, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks at how pretty he looks. With his blonde hair soft and curly, framing his face nicely.

You’ve decided that blonde makes Jeonghan look like an angel, even though he’s anything but.

“Why did you not greet me at midnight?” Jeonghan asks, and you smile sleepily at him. You reach out and pat his cheek, closing your eyes, “I just wanted to be the last one to greet you this year. Best for last, am I right?”

Jeonghan stares at you in silence for a moment, before letting out a laugh. He shakes his head, realizing just how you that is. You let out a yawn, gesturing for him to lean over towards you. Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at the action, seeing that your eyes are still closed. “Mm?”

You mutter quietly, “Come closer, I need to give you your gift before I fall asleep.”

Jeonghan chuckles fondly when you open your eyes. He finds your sleepy expression to be incredibly endearing. He leans close towards you, ignoring the way heat is rushing to his cheeks at the close proximity between your faces. “Why did I need to come close to get my gift-”

You press your lips to his quickly before pulling away, blush prominent on your cheeks as you try and avoid looking at Jeonghan’s face. You turn away and close your eyes, cuddling the pillow close to your chest.

Jeonghan gawks at you, and he slowly raises a hand to his lips. He watches your shoulders rise and fall, and he internally screams at the fact that you just kissed him. You, his best friend, his person. The one who he dreamt of marrying. After a moment of going feral, he reaches out and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Yn, how long have you had feelings for me?”

You turn back over and see Jeonghan staring at you with a furious blush to his cheeks. He turns his head when he realizes the movie is still playing and presses the spacebar, promptly pausing the movie. He turns back towards you, noticing the bright blush to your cheeks that match his.

“Since you dyed your hair lavender after I told you it was my favorite color.” You mutter, and Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheek. He attempts to fight back the smile, but it fails. Your heart slowly calms down when you realize that Jeonghan is smiling, and you take it as a good sign.

“Do you like me?” You ask quietly, and Jeonghan shakes his head. He leans his face closer to yours, and your eyes widen significantly at the close proximity. “I love you. I thought you would’ve noticed when I dyed my hair lavender just for you.”

You find yourself smiling back at Jeonghan, and he giggles happily. He shakes his head at you, heart warm at the events of his birthday. He opens his arms towards you, and you reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, sending the two of you backwards onto the snacks. You immediately scream when you hear the crunch of the chips and candies the two of you probably crushed, releasing your hold on Jeonghan and shoving him off the food.

“God damn it.” You mumble in disappointment as you lift up a few snacks, noticing how depleted the bag seems now that they’re smushed. While Jeonghan just stares at you, obviously flabbergasted at how quickly you shoved him in order to protect the food. You pout, placing the crushed up food onto the blanket before turning to glance at the blonde, who is now squinting at you.

“... what?”

“So basically,” Jeonghan begins as he sits back up, running a hand through his hair. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he lets out a breath before continuing. “You don’t greet me first, you avoid me on campus, and then after kissing me, you shove me off of you in order to protect the snacks.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before you nod your head, reaching out to take a crushed up potato chip and place it into your mouth. You flash Jeonghan a cheeky smile, “Of course.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and cracks his knuckles. You raise an eyebrow at him and he takes in a deep breath, “I guess I gotta do this then.”

“Do wha-”

You don’t get the chance to finish your question before you’re tackled backwards onto the comforter. Jeonghan attacks your waist with his hands, causing you to laugh loudly underneath the makeshift pillow fort you spent an hour making.

“I’m SORRY!”

“Tell it to the JUDGE!” Jeonghan replies with a loud laugh, no malice in his words as the two of you giggle together.

The sound of your guys’ laughs echoes out into the night, a faint reminder of the euphoria in the air on your angel, Yoon Jeonghan’s birthday.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen crack #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan crack #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan crack #yoon jeonghan #seventeen oneshot #seventeen oneshots

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

National Honor Society (Happy Birthday Brandy)

Original Post Date: 5/19/21 at 3:25PM EST

Happy Birthday @bbrandy2002 I hope you are having a wonderful birthday today. I will be honest and say I had no clue it was your birthday until late yesterday evening. I hope you like this. I met you when I was baby new to the fandom.

I started reading your series My Love . To this day that is probably one of my favorite series I’ve read. If you haven’t read it, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND!!!!

I had started reading it, then I had lost track of it. I finally saw a reblog for it again, and so I messaged you. You had told me then you were so grateful for my comments, as you had thought about scrapping that whole story. I almost lost my mind, because I thought that story was amazing. And proceeded to with each chapter give an emotional play by play via your inbox while I was reading. Thank you for thinking I wasn’t insane for that. Ha ha ha ha!!!! You are an amazing writer and friend. I really appreciate your friendship.

This is a complete one shot. It technically does not fall into any series that I am currently writing right now or have written.

The Book: TRR

The Pairings: None

Word Count: 825

Warnings: Profanity.

Summary: Liam, Drake, and Hana have to do the National Honor Society’s daily birthday announcements.

A/N: This is actually something I used to have to do in high school being part of the honor society. I ironically came up with this idea while I was watching this crazy show on netflix called Who Killed Sara. I really hope you like this cute little dumpster fire. If you don’t, then blame Netflix and my nerdy high school years. Sorry wasn’t more of a Taylor. You’ll see.

A/N2: Update 5/21/21

Because the Birthday girl requests a followup and I have cultivated some ideas for this, I am going continue this little accidental AU I created here. The mini series will be called School Dayz.

It may even cross into Pop’s Place too. I’m still figuring out some logistics in that, since I plan to still have Jaiden as an older brother to Riley and Taylor.

Liam didn’t think of himself as a nerd. His glasses, braces, and lack of style kind of said otherwise.

“There’s nothing wrong with being intelligent Liam. The right person will find that to be your most attractive trait one day. I promise.”

His mother had always told him. He never forgot her words. His mother had always understood him.

His dad….not at all. After his mother passed away, Liam was left with his father and Leo. At least Leo tried to understand him.

Liam’s older brother was a senior. Everyone knew Leo. Liam’s freshman year of high school he was referred to as Leo’s brother.

Leo wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree, but he made decent grades, enough to stay on whatever sports team he tried out for. That first season was football.

Liam… was a klutz. He was not sports team material. Liam was on the debate team and in glee club. He wasn’t in the popular crowd but had his small tribe of friends. Hana and Drake were his best friends in the whole wide world.

“Who did you get?”

“Nico KH.” Hana responded, she had a light flush on her cheeks.

“What about you?”

“Riley Brooks? I’ve never heard of her? Him?” Liam looked at the paper confused.

“Her, she’s new. She just moved here from New York. She’s in my AP Spanish class.”

“I got Taylor Brooks. Guess that’s her brother? A little direction on this would be nice.”

The secretary ushered them up to the intercom.

Hana began speaking, her voice as clear as a bell.

“The National Honor Society would like to wish the following people a happy birthday.”

She paused, for a moment to compose herself.

“Nico KH, have a happy birthday.”

“Riley Brooks, have a happy birthday.”

“Taylor Brooks, have a happy birthday.”

They all said in union. “Please come to the office to pick up your present courtesy of the National Honor Society.”

Nico showed up to the office first.

Hana walked up to him with their candy bag assortment, and a card to hand to him.

“Have a happy birthday Nico.”

“Thanks Anna.” Nico took the bag and the card and walked back out of the office.

“You’re welcome,” Hana breathed softly.

“Anna? When the hell did you change your name HANA?” Drake burst out laughing.

“Drake Walker, language, and detention!”

Liam laughed with Drake.

“I don’t even care. He was close.”

“Hana close only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades.”

Liam laughed so hard he snorted.

“What’s so funny?”

Liam turned around face to face with a girl wearing glasses similar to his own.

“Nothing, my friends are ridiculous..”

“Oh.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I was called to the office. I’m Riley Brooks.”

Liam straightened his glasses, picking up his gift and card, giving it to her.

Liam cleared his throat. “Have a happy birthday Riley.”

“Thanks. You’re the first person to wish me a happy birthday by myself. Usually….”

Another girl stormed into the office like a hurricane. “Where’s my gift at bitches?!?!?!?”

Standing next to Riley you could see they were twins. However Riley was soft spoken and Taylor was a firecracker.

“Who are you?”

Drake felt a wave of boldness as he walked up to the girl. “You must be Taylor Brooks. I personally wish you a happy birthday.”

“Taylor Brooks? Language, and Detention.”

“On our birthday?!?”

Riley looked uncomfortable next to Taylor. You could see the physically identical features of Riley and Taylor. But that’s where the similarities ended.

Riley was clearly the soft spoken twin. She was dressed what Liam thought was nice, in a pink button down shirt, and a not quite knee length black skirt. Her curly hair pulled up in a ponytail.

Her sister was dressed to easily fit into the popular crowd at school.

But Liam focused his attention on Riley.

“We typically get our birthdays tied together with each other. Six minutes separates our birthday technically.” Riley grumbled.

“Oh it makes sense.”

“It does?” Riley looked irritated.

“No I mean, if your birthday was on Christmas, I would get you two gifts. Not just one. Because it would be two holidays.”

Riley smiled.

“So my birthday is a holiday?” she inquired.

A light pink hue crossed Liam’s face.

“No I meant… I don’t know what I meant…”

“Thank you….”

“Liam. My name is Liam.”

“Thank you Liam.”

Taylor grabbed Riley’s hand. “Let’s get back to class.”

Riley glanced back at Liam and smiled before her sister pulled her through the office door.

“Could twins be any more different?”

“They are technically two different people.” Liam was intrigued by Riley already.

“And I’ve got detention with the cute one this afternoon.”

Liam went by his locker after announcements to get his AP Biology book.

He sat at the table in the front of class.

Just as the bell rang she ran into the door.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, I’m still trying to figure out my way around.”

“Take a seat.”

She glanced around the room seeing the only familiar face she knew, so she walked over to him.

“Hi Liam.”

“Hi Riley.”

#bebepac writes #happy birthday brandy #birthday fic #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr au #when liam met riley #another meet cute #liam and riley

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adorehs · 4 years

Text

changing your tune

Hi I just wanted to mention that a lot of this might be inaccurate. This is based off of my time in my city's youth orchestra so while I’m sure some things transfer, but not everything. Kinda bad at the end per usual <3

Summary: Classical Musician!Y/N has created a simple life for herself consisting of herself, her music, and the boy she loves. Friends to lovers. (15.6k words)

Warnings: mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut, minor character death.

“I just think I need to have a fuller tone to really get the dark undertone of the music. Like, it’s so clearly meant to be this dark, horrible travesty but if I can’t get the tone right then it’s just this light and airy travesty. But I can’t bend the note just right, my air is, like, gone,” you vent out.

Harry watches you intently from where he sat in your study with a hand holding his chin up and an elbow on his knee, “I think it sounds great.”

You look at him unimpressed, “It’s all chalumeau. Of course it sounds good, it just doesn't sound right.”

“Right, so it’s in the lower register,” he mentally reminds himself, “What’s it supposed to sound like?”

You let out a sigh and pick up your clarinet from the stand it rested on, “It sounds kind of different without my custom, but the r13 will work for now,” you mumble, adjusting the reed and ligature on your mouthpiece, a nervous tick you picked up in school.

Your eyes flicker up to Harry, waiting for his glance of approval before you start. Your cheeks expertly swell and decompress in size as you circular breathe through the measures, your mind concentrated on the smooth transitions between rhythms and the registers, cutting the triplets short as you’ve written them.

The soothing noise of your clarinet fills the large room immediately, your forte becoming all too loud to process any thoughts. The victorian-styled room had low hanging lights that streamed a warm orange tone over the patterned chairs and built-in bookcase that held hundreds of music books with etudes you’ve mastered since your youth.

Though the warm tones made the room feel homely, the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened ajar allowing a short breeze to flow in every two minutes. You knew better then to turn on a fan around your hand-crafted instrument. You understood the fluctuation it would cause if the temperature changed drastically day by day. This is why you were careful to turn the air conditioning off before you opened the window, keeping the temperature relatively steady through the day.

Harry watched you in pure concentration- he was truly enamoured by the way you lost yourself in music. He wanted to understand what you were saying but it was hard- he enjoyed music but was completely deaf when it came to describing the mood of a piece.

He worked with numbers, and loved it. A born accountant in your presence, watching you play your clarinet with what seems to be ease. But you seemed so distant from him. A whole world away. And how was he going to sweep you off your feet when he can hardly understand your career?

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as the technique became more difficult, effectively making you let off your clarinet and huff a breath of disapproval. Your heart was clearly pounding after the page you played at full tempo for effect, but you tried not to show the effect the music had on your body.

You reached for your pencil before erasing a note you had written and writing another one in, a higher register G#. The graphite smeared on the yellow-tinted manuscript book that sat on the music stand before you, everything shaking lightly as vigorously colored in the line and drew in a staccato articulation above the sixteenth note.

Forgetting Harry’s presence, you picked up your clarinet once again and played the same measure in sets of five, increasing the tempo by four beats each time, before deciding it is satisfactory for now.

Your face only showed a slight upturn, as you wrote in a new measure, testing how the chord would resolve with some soft air and incomplete vibrations through the wooden block. Minor chord or major? you asked yourself.

Harry’s eyes watched yours as they darted across the room from your clarinet, to your manuscript, to your metronome, which was silently flashing a red light at a tempo of 180 and a subdivision of eighth notes.

He wondered who taught you so harshly- he’d never seen someone so critical of their own work. You liked to make everything very perfect in a meticulous way- you knew just when to linger on the seventh of a chord to leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of one;s stomach and you were stellar when it came to expressing a story and emotion through your music. At least that’s what Harry thought.

“So where does your tone need to get fuller?” he asks again.

You looked up at him, slightly shocked. You had forgotten he was there, “When I get higher, like, near the F#. It has no depth to the note and it sounds like a playground piece,” you explain softly, watching as his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“So you want it to sound darker when the octave goes up?” he confirms one more time.

You nod, “Yeah. Want it to sound more emotional and thoughtful. It also makes me sound like a stylistically competent player,” your eyes flicker back to the page in an instant.

“I think your style is good. You have a good variety in the symphony, too. They’ll like this one. Get the solo down and then ask some people to come and play with you,” Harry comments, rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants as he sits back further in the chair. The heavy fabric makes a dissatisfying pulling noise as Harry moves around in the chair, resting his hands on the dark wooden arms with ornate carvings on the ends.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “They haven’t taken my last three. If I can just make one good one, I can take some more risks and possibly compose a whole symphony,” you pause, making eye contact with Harry again, “But that’ll take years. Probably only when I retire from the orchestra.”

“They are good,” Harry argues weakly. He doesn’t know how to convince you because all he knows is that he likes it.

“Well clearly they’re not as good as you and I think,” you counter with a huff, picking up your clarinet once more before playing the same piece from the beginning.

After an overextended work week, Harry was excited to go out and have some fun with his friends. He was still a ripe twenty-six year old, working long and hard hours as a starting budget analyst, hoping to be promoted higher within the job and lighten his workload- at least that's what everyone promised will happen. Nevertheless, he still enjoyed the simple pleasures of going out and celebrating his friends.

It was an all too familiar setting- a sticky, trashed bar with little to no care given to the seats that were falling apart at the seams. He found himself thinking of the frat parties you had described to him when he asked what Greek Life was.

But, he was there to celebrate one of his colleagues' birthdays. It was her twenty-fifth, so he found himself understanding the want for a big party. The bar might have been trashed but it was large and suitable for the hundreds of people she seemed to invite.

And among the hundreds, he only viewed one. You.

You wore a dress that you pulled from the back of your closet and hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in college. You wore it to special events and networking parties, but you found it all too nice to wear to most other situations you found yourself in.

Harry had definitely forgotten your connection to his colleague, or better known as your sister. He watched as you greeted her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, an awkward side hug was exchanged as everyone around you both cheered in excitement. You were pretty loved.

“Happy birthday Mon,” you repeat for the second time that day, “Hope the year treats you well.”

Your sister smiled in response, “Off to a great start,” she eyes the party reviving behind you, “I’m glad you could make it. Thought you’d have a performance tonight.”

You shook your head, “Nope. Requested this day off a year ago. Couldn’t miss my favorite day of the year!”

Your sister glances at you with a look of amusement, “Happy Monica day is your favorite of the year?”

“Yup, love happy Monica day,” you reiterate.

Monica opened her mouth to reply but was swiftly cut off by a deep British accent, “Happy birthday Mon!” you hear from behind you.

You turn around quickly, side stepping to allow Harry into your conversation. He leans into your sister before granting her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “How are you?” he asks, replacing your spot in front of her.

You smile at Monica and halfheartedly wave a goodbye as you slowly make your way over to the bar to order some food. You decided a year ago that you were going to stop drinking. At first, it was a hard choice to make. You were used to having a drink in most social situations, especially being a young adult working with people of all ages. It was a common scene to find you in- an after party with hundreds of musicians having a glass of champagne or white wine in celebration.

You sat yourself on a deep crimson stool, swirling slightly as you waited for your sliders to be given to you. Watching as people met and reconnected was isolating for you. You knew very few people Monica worked with and found yourself just shy of saying hi to someone who looked friendly every time you were at a gathering such as this one.

Nodding a silent thank you as your sliders were placed in front of you, your attention shifts. It was the loud talking and blaring music that made your brain want to go into overdrive, never quite getting used to noises you couldn’t control.

“Hi, Y/N,” you feel a body slide into the seat beside you. You couldn’t exactly pin whose voice it was at first listen so you shift your body towards them and slide the plate between you two as a peace offering.

“Hey,” you reply, making eye contact with one of Monica’s friends you met when she first started working at the firm.

“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’m alright, Louis. And yourself?”

“I’m quite alright. Been working a lot. Itching to get promoted,” he lets out a small laugh, “But who isn’t.”

You shoot him a grin, “Not sure, I love my job.”

“When’re you playing next? Love to come see you play. Haven't been to the new show yet,” he leans in towards you and takes a slider before leaning back again.

“Play Thursday to Sunday every week until November. Then we switch to Christmas ballets,” you tell him with a grin, “I recommend Thursday or Sunday, though. Best prices and best crowd.”

He nods in confirmation, “I’ll have to take Harry with me, know he’s been bugging me to go with him for a while.”

“Yeah, bring him! It’ll be fun, we can all go out after too!” you counter, dismissing Louis' comment about Harry’s insistent nature. That was just him, you thought.

“Definitely,” he agrees, “Plus it’s a nice way to unwind. I’ll definitely see if I can come soon.”

“Oh, please! I love seeing a familiar face. Feel like I play better,” you laugh, “Still get nervous, but Harry always tells me I’ll do amazing.”

“Harry’s good at that,” Louis agrees, “Always makes sure you don’t undersell yourself. And he’s right! You’re amazing.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, “Thank you! He’s definitely everyone's biggest cheerleader,” you joke. Turning around entirely in your stool, your eyes sift quickly through the crowd in search of Harry. “See, there he is,” you chortle, “Hyping up Niall as he chugs a,” you squint.

“A beer, probably,” Louis completes for you.

You both laugh and watch as Niall shoots up from his spot on the ground in victory before immediately falling back onto the ground with great dramatics. The room roars as Harry helps his friend stand back up and walks him over to the bathroom before swinging the door back open, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pauses for effect, “The boy lives!”

The room once again falls into a unison form of laughter as Niall appears behind Harry moments later, “Where’s the beer?” he shouts over the laughs, which quickly turn into cheers at his sportsmanship.

While Louis lets out a loud laugh at his friend's antics and moves towards the crowd to see more clearly, you looked up towards Harry. He dressed himself impressively well considering his lack of knowledge in the arts. Though he wore a simple outfit consisting of a red button up and black jeans, his confidence soared higher than anyone else’s you’d seen in a while.

His smile was infectious and seemed to fill his whole face and as his eyes raised to meet yours it grew to a tenfold. Speaking with his body language, you somehow sensed that he wanted you to get up and join him.

You shook your head with a smile and mouthed ��I’m fine here!’ only to receive a ‘What!?’ in response. You shook your head in defeat and stood up, mouthing the same phrase only slower.

Harry replied with a look of realization and instantaneously, a pout replaced his smile. You frowned at your effect on him, not wanting him to feel upset because of you of all people.

You stood up and slowly started making your way over to him, allowing the smile to rediscover its place on his lips. He was watching you near him, when his head suddenly snapped towards a high pitched scream coming from your sister, “It’s midnight!” she shouts.

Harry chuckles at her dramatics and smiles when he feels your body press up against his side. He didn’t have to look to know it was you, he could smell your distinct perfume as you neared him and he was happy knowing you found comfort around him- though that should’ve been clear from the nights upon nights you spend together, him listening to your music and you listening to his rants.

Monica was handed a bottle of champagne and she stepped into the middle of the corner you all occupied, people filing in suit around her and forming a circular crowd.

“Hey everyone! Uh- thank you so much for coming- I mean it. It means a lot to me to be surrounded by a bunch of people I love on my favorite day of the year!” She jokes, earning some light laughs and a few words of endearment thrown back at her. “No, seriously, thanks a lot, and,” she trails off, her thoughts too blurry for her planned speech, “Here’s to twenty five!” she cheers, shaking the champagne bottle, allowing it to pop and spray all over. She quickly spins in an attempt to spray everyone, but the champagne bubbles over and only gets half the group.

You and Harry both laugh, shaking your hands to get the sticky substance off your bodies. “She tries every year and never succeeds,” you tell him.

He chuckles in response, “She gets too drunk to remember.”

“Or she just thinks that she’s sober enough to get it this year,” you laugh back.

Harry laughs and nods, “Definitely. She thinks she’s perfectly fine,” he points at Monica who is going around the circle and hugging everyone in thanks. “To be fair she looks okay,” he adds.

“She always does,” you agree with Harry.

The two of you fall silent and you stand back watching your sister make rounds. Harry’s hand creeps onto your back as he steps closer to you, bringing you in front of him. He hums along to the song you couldn’t remember the name of that was blaring on the speakers and he basks in the glory of being in your presence.

Soon enough, your sister had made her way over to the two of you, hugging you both and exchanging her thanks for coming and just as quick as she came, she left you two alone.

“So, uh,” Harry starts.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna leave. Got an early start tomorrow,” you tell Harry, pointing at the door.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. Yeah, you should go,” he stammers.

You smile at him, “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later?” you asked, stepping towards Monica to say a final happy birthday and goodnight.

“Yeah, definitely,” he nods in confirmation.

You wave before finding your sister and saying goodnight, then driving yourself back home.

Harry was sitting in bed with his laptop on his lap and a blanket covering his legs. He was doing some research in an attempt to find books that could teach him about music theory.

He told himself he wanted to be more involved in his friends' lives and further his education in one of his weakest subjects- music. But in reality, it was clear to those around him that he wanted to impress you and be more involved in your life and yours only. They had never seen him pick up a book on physical therapy or take a quick online course on python- he was doing it all purely for you.

He was contemplating if he should invest in a book or just take a free online course, both seemed like viable options but he wanted to optimize his time. He wanted to make it click faster.

He decided he’d try the online course and take his chances and if he still didn’t understand he would invest in a book.

So there he was on a Tuesday evening sitting in bed with his headphones in learning how basic chords were made. He wrote notes as if he was still in school and studied them after each lesson. He wasn’t fully immersed in the world like you were, but he felt as though he could carry a bit more of a conversation with you about music, especially when compared to before.

Harry was learning slowly but surely and in about a week he could, in theory, explain how to develop a minor chord from it’s major among various other basics (that you would probably think were common knowledge) but he had no recollection of learning.

As per usual, he spent every Monday and Wednesday evening with you. On Mondays, you would have movie night and on Wednesdays, he would get some work done in your office while you played. It never truly distracted him, either. Honestly, it made him feel very peaceful and he found that the routine was more about being in the presence of each other rather than making memories.

One Wednesday, he had completed his work early and as usual, he would sit and see what you had composed to help give his limited input on your compositions.

Typically, he would sit and listen silently with a slight tilt to his head while he thought up a thoughtful comment about your playing. You would always sit there anxiously, with your posture beginning to slouch since you were not playing anymore, waiting for a comment that you both knew would be neither helpful or negative.

Harry was good at that. He was good at making you feel like you were doing good with absolute sincerity and not a single waiver of his voice. His face would stay straight and he would find the good in it all. It was probably your favorite part of the man who sat with you on the particular day.

This time, unlike the last, your window was shut tight and you were trying your hardest to keep your hands steady. You couldn’t make the piece sound right. It sounded okay but that would not get you signed. It needed to be calculated and perfect in a theoretical standpoint. It also needed to be simple enough to split into parts for larger groups but difficult enough to have solo excerpts from each instrument- in case a full orchestra didn’t work.

And that was difficult to accomplish.

Harry knew that and he agreed- how could one person who hadn’t ever been signed make such an elaborate piece? He thought it was absolutely absurd that to maximize your chances you had to make the piece a combination of just about everything.

You sat with the same face as you usually did, one pleading for some sort of advice or criticism. What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to deliver.

“Think if you made it a minor chord instead of a major and ended on the seventh it could bring some edge,” Harry eventually says.

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion, “Yeah, uh, let me try that,” you stammered.

You covered what you had written with a sticky note, drawing on the new scale. You showed Harry the note and asked him if that was what he was thinking, to which he replied yes. You nod lightly and play the piece once again from the beginning, swaying slightly as you approached lyrical bits and narrowed your air stream to control your volume.

Harry nods along with your playing, pausing slightly in places he could tell you didn’t like much. Eventually, he watches as you play what he had suggested, anxiety rising up his throat in fear of not being accepted.

“Think I like it. But I need to fix some of the other stuff too,” you told him once you finished. “It would definitely feel right that way.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He rounded the long desk and joined you where you sat by the window in an uncomfortable chair made to help keep your posture near perfect. He crouched down so he could be eye level with your music and furrowed his brows.

You watched as he read the notes carefully, taking his time as he took in each technically challenging measure and the lyrically soft measures in contrast. You grew anxious for his approval so you busied yourself by taking the sticky note off of the manuscript and erasing and redrawing the notes for the new scale Harry advised you to add.

You took your time, slowly coloring each eighth note, the graphite crumbling down the page, leaving a light smear as you wiped it away with the side of your hand.

Harry looked up at you, “I think you should change this,” he points, “Make it flat and get rid of this note entirely,” he spoke slowly. You watch as his finger indicates each note and you nod along softly.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you agree.

He nods in response and rests his hand on your thigh, you hardly notice the action that felt natural in the moment.

You temporarily wrote in each suggestion and played the piece again from the beginning, a process the two of you were becoming increasingly annoyed with. As you approached the measure he had pointed out, your mind wondered: how did he know all this and why didn’t he mention any of it before?

Your air slowed down as your mind wandered and your fingers followed closely after, a ritardando, Harry noted. He hadn’t mentioned tempo but he found that bringing the piece down to cut time brought a new feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Abruptly, you stopped, and Harry knew you didn’t realize. You both sat in silence for a moment before Harry stood up and moved back over to where he was sitting previously. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head out. Good luck Y/N,” he rushed out.

You shook your head in disbelief. You truly didn’t understand what just happened. But, you shook it off and tried again, keeping the ritardando.

Harry on the other hand, was in a state of panic. He had realized what he had done and he thought she did too, resulting in her abrupt stopping point.

Harry had begun to understand that he was in love with you. And he didn’t know until just then. But he had done everything just for you.

The following Sunday Harry finally managed to drag Louis out of his city apartment and downtown to the Meyerson Symphony Center where you were to perform Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Neither Harry or Louis have seen you perform this particular show so they were late to learn that you had auditioned for and successfully got the clarinet solo in a particular piece from the Symphony named Scherzo.

You had explained to Harry your appeal to this particular symphony- you found it to be unique of all the others that accompanied Shakespeare's work. Instead of relaying a difficult emotion or putting a satirical spin on a human issue like his other works did, you found Midsummer to be a pure romp into romance and the abnormalities of love.

And though you hadn’t been in love for a while, you found yourself feeling the emotion wholly through both the piece and music in it of itself.

Harry had read midsummer before- in fact he had seen it live with his mum and sister when he was younger, but he never understood the effect the music had on the play. He never looked into the contextualization of the play, let alone the deeper aspirations of it.

He understood music theory but he still had trouble analyzing music itself. He couldn’t pinpoint moods by just listening- he needed to see it written out which he believed hindered his ability to enjoy music to its fullest extent.

Needless to say, Harry entered the theater with Louis with a thought of determination. All he wanted was to find a way to understand the music and appreciate it as you did. They were both clad in matching suits, a simple black and white for the symphony, and made their way to the middle where their tickets directed them. Harry sat in the aisle and Louis sat right next to him, whispering in excitement of the show.

“I fucking love this story,” Louis says.

Harry lets out a quiet laugh, “I hardly remember it.”

Louis joins Harry in laughter and shrugs, “Oh well, it’ll still be good.”

Harry nods in agreement and turns away from Louis as the curtains open and the lights dim.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen you on this stage, but he found himself mesmerized as he found you with his eyes. He watched as you scanned the crowd quickly, your eyes jumping past him and Louis a few times before you recognized your friends. You shot them each a relieved smile and sat up straighter in your chair.

The conductor cast a smile at everyone before beginning the first piece, the Overture making its debut in the room. Just as Harry was used to, the melodic sounds filled the room to the brim, every last corner feeling the pure emotion that was put into the piece.

Harry couldn’t describe the feeling but he knew he was proud. He understood that watching you in your element is probably the worst thing he could do for himself, but he had to. It was pure torture to watch you fall in love with something that wasn’t him, but he loved the way it happened.

You lost yourself so easily and he felt as though you were the loudest in the room. He could hear your sound over everyone else's, your instrument being isolated from all the others in his mind. Harry could swear he had never been so proud in his life to see someone do what they love.

As the overture came to a close, his hands met in applause and he felt the need to stand up just so you would know how much he loved it. But as quickly as he started, he stopped his applause and the next piece was beginning.

No. 1 Scherzo. It was the second piece on the track and your personal favorite for reasons you would not disclose to Harry. He had heard you practice it a few times before, nodding along as he recognized fragments of the piece.

It was around three minutes into the piece when Harry learned why it was your favorite. Because it was just you. You were the only one playing- your solo bringing tears to his eyes. It was just that moment when you looked up and made eye contact with Harry, him nodding with a large grin on his face with reassurance, you’re doing amazing, it read.

When you looked back up at your music, your eyes narrowing in concentration, you failed to notice the look on Harry’s face. His phone had buzzed and he found himself confused- he was sure he put it on silent. The feeling that was elicited was nothing but good, so he decided to go check just for some peace of mind.

He stood up, pointing at his phone when Louis questioned him silently, gaining a nod of approval as Harry exited the theater in a rush.

The second he exited the room that was beginning to become overly stuffy and constricting, he took a deep breath and told himself you’re probably just overreacting.

Harry was anywhere from overreacting. It was that exact moment that he had received a text that was pushed through do not disturb. The text was from his mum and read nothing but horrible news. The five words that found themselves on his screen that illuminated his face as he stood right next to the door called him a coward. They read: This contact has dialed 999.

Harry understood the severity of the situation but he didn’t know what to do. All he knew is that she called- he didn’t know why or where she was. He didn’t know if he had to book a flight back home or not.

Just as Harry was getting up and leaving for his own agenda, you had finished your solo. You looked up once again, hearing the applause and searching for Harry once more. But this time, you found Louis sat alone with a large grin creeping across his face and his applause filling the space next to him.

You had never felt as hurt as you did in that moment. He had left you. Harry, the man you now realized you love, found something more important than you and your aspirations, and there was no physical way that it wouldn’t sting. What you didn’t know was that as your heart was breaking, Harry’s mum’s was.

It had taken two hours for someone to answer the phone. Two hours for Harry to spend most of his savings on a red eye to the London airport. Ten hours for him to touch down in London. Three to make his way to the hospital next to his childhood home.

He was distraught to say the least.

He had left without mention of what was happening, his phone exploding with texts from Louis and Monica making sure he was okay, but not a word from you. He felt betrayed, but he understood. You had things going on too and he wasn’t the center of your universe.

The hospital looked sterile, not a single thing out of place. The walls were coated in a pristine white color that nearly blinded Harry’s bloodshot eyes, and he spent a few minutes catching his breath before he asked where his dad was.

He walked sluggishly onto the elevator, the weight of reality crushing him as he waited for what seemed like ages but really was hardly forty seconds for the elevator to jolt to a stop. When it stepped off, he saw what he imagined to be organized chaos.

People were walking quickly up and down the lengths of the corridor and he found himself passing by far too many crying people to think anything good could ever happen in a hospital- not revival nor birth.

He walked the length of the corridor in silence, taking in his surroundings. He was in shock- he could hardly even process that he was in England, let alone why he was there. It was only when he stopped shortly at the sight of his mum and sister sleeping, their heads resting on each other's, that he realized the severity of what was happening.

And so, with a deep breath, he sat down on the floor before them, resting his back lightly against the leg chairs and he rested his forehead on his knees. It didn’t seem like his life that he was living- he felt like this was all a vivid dream, but it wasn’t. It was less than twenty four hours ago that he was with Louis watching your performance and now he sat with his family outside of his father's hospital room praying he would be okay.

Harry was one of hopeful thinking and that was made apparent when a doctor exited his father's room with a stack of papers.

Harry was the first to stand, followed by his mother and sister, who were unsure of when he had arrived. He shook hands with the doctor, who he learned was named doctor Wilson. He was clad in the same scrubs as every other doctor but Harry found his to be a special type of unattractive- or maybe that was his subconscious distracting himself from the situation at hand.

Doctor Wilson cleared his throat as Anne made her way next to Harry, Gemma shielding herself from the news from behind him, “So,” he cleared his throat “Mr. Styles came in about a year ago to have his lungs screened, as you may know, and he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer,” he nodded.

“Well, Mr. Styles seems to have,” he left a pregnant pause in his sentence, “He seems to have the cancer cells spreading rapidly. We would like to put him on a self contained respirator and monitor him closely to give you some more accurate information about his cancer and give you some answers within a few hours,” he says slowly.

Harry shook his head in disbelief- his father had never mentioned cancer let alone a screening.

“Thank you doctor,” he heard Anne speak from behind him. He sent a last glance at the broken family and moved back into the room.

It was the first you had heard from him in about half a week. He had called you on Wednesday after not answering your messages asking if he will make his way over on Monday for your movie night.

“Hi,” you answer softly.

“Hey- uh,” you heard some shuffling, “Hey.”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion, “Are you coming over?”

There was a long pause on Harry’s end and you just about opened your mouth to confirm that he could hear you when he replied, “No,” he said shortly. “I- uh- I’m at home.”

“Do you want me to come over?” you asked in confusion.

“No, like, I’m in the UK,” he quickly corrected you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, leaving a pregnant pause on your end, “Oh,” you replied.

“Yeah, I-” you could hear a few other voices in the background and you imagined they were his mum and sister, “My dad- he’s not doing so good. He has stage four lung cancer.”

“Oh,” you let out again. “I- uh- sorry, I really just don’t know what to say right now.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle, which you could tell had bitter undertones, “That’s alright… don’t exactly know what to say myself.”

“I- uh- I’m really sorry,” you tell him sincerely, “God I feel like such an ass,” you expressed.

Harry’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked up at his mum to ensure she wasn’t listening, “No need, I promise it’s fine you don’t have to say anything.”

“I just- I was so mad at you for leaving and not saying anything and ignoring me. Thought I did something wrong or you were mad at me,” you explain. “Didn’t know what was going on and I was scared that I lost you.”

“Couldn’t lose me if you tried,” Harry laughed softly, you joining his laughter momentarily.

“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you I was going?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

“No- not at all. Was mainly just worried,” you reassure him, “I totally understand,” but you didn’t. How could he not tell you? Did he not think you deserved to know why he left when you were playing for him?

“I’m really sorry. Kinda just fell off the face of the Earth for a few days. Was anticipating the news and trying to stay strong for my mum and Gemma,” he explains.

Before you could reply, Harry starts again, “Hey, uh, we’re going back to the hospital so I’ll talk to you later, alright?” he says quickly before hanging up and leaving you alone in your study, clarinet in front of you.

You truly didn’t know how to cope with what just happened- it felt like heartbreak on two spectrums- family and lover. But he was neither, which hurt even more.

You picked up the piece of handcrafted wood that sat in front of you and tried your hardest to pour your heartbreak into the piece- adding pain, edge, and suffering to the nearly- done piece in an attempt to exert your feelings into something productive.

It worked like a charm, which was something you felt bad mentioning. You found yourself falling in love with the piece, fractures of your heart making up every line and the composition falling right into place as your muse fell right apart across the world.

It was the next morning when you received the message from Harry: He’s gone. In his sleep. I’ll be home in a week. Gotta sort some things out. -H

Harry arrived home that following Tuesday and he was exhausted but grateful to be back to his tiny townhouse in the middle of a city with his friends surrounding him.

He felt as though coping wasn’t an option anymore- he had taken up a whole week for that and in this moment in time he felt as though he had already done enough coping.

There was a memorial service the weekend after his father died and to say Harry’s family were crushed would be an understatement.

Anne, Gemma, and Harry each had prepared a speech for the service and none of them felt as though they could do the senior Styles any justice. He was a good man and they couldn’t even begin to explain that to everyone there. Nobody could understand the pain in the same way as they did, so they did their best to remember him in the best light.

Harry was mainly happy for one thing- the following day was Wednesday. He had taken off the rest of the week so he could recover from any jet lag and start the new week back with a fresh start, so he knew that tomorrow would be a great day to catch up. With work and with you.

He hadn’t seen a single person since he was back but upholding the tradition was important to him. He favored you over most all his friends anyway, so when he parked his old car in the driveway of the large house you inherited from your grandparents, he was excited.

He knocked twice and rang your doorbell once,queuing you to open the door in shock less than a minute after. “What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling Harry into a long hug. You had missed him on his ten days of abstinence from you.

“Got back yesterday, can’t skip out on tradition,” he shoots you a smile, letting go of your warm embrace. You took a moment to look at him before deciding he wanted a distraction from everything going on in his life.

You open the door further, beckoning him to come in, “Well come on, I need your opinion on my piece,” you gesture towards your office dramatically.

Harry chuckles and bows in thanks, “After you,” he says with a posh accent.

You both laugh, heading inside to where your things were set up and ready to go. He sat down in the same chair as he always does and you round the desk to sit where your clarinet was standing and your manuscript laid.

“Okay, so I added, kind of a lot, while you were gone,” you warm him.

He nodded and gestured for you to play, “Well go on then. Show me what you added,” he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.

You glanced at Harry and your music a few times each in an attempt to correlate the two in your mind- this was your Harry and he would never hurt you. You began to play the piece that you had become sickly familiar with but Harry found himself utterly perplexed at the sound of a new beginning. You had nearly changed the entire beginning and Harry loved it.

He found it to be oddly comforting to listen to you for what felt like the first time ever but in reality it was just another sense of stability in the world you two had created- the world that was exclusively Harry and Y/N.

The moment you reached the end, a bit he had helped you with, you found yourself stumbling over your composition, making Harry's brow furrow together. You were a perfectionist when it came to music- you loved the control that came with being able to play flawlessly and change how it all came together and he found it odd that you of all people were messing up something you had written in for weeks.

“Sorry,” you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair, “I’m really stressed and it’s really making this all worse.”

Harry nodded in understanding, “You should take a break,” he tells you with full seriousness.

You look at him with a blank face for a moment before bursting out into laughter, “You can’t be serious.”

Harry looked at you confused, “I’m serious.”

“Harry this is my job. This is equivalent to me getting a promotion. I can’t stop!” you explain harshly.

Harry nodded, “I understand. Just-” he paused, “Just come with me, okay?”

“No, Harry, I can't, I have to do this,” you stood your ground.

“Y/N,” he spoke firmly, “If you hate this and want to kick me out for a week and let you compose on your own after this, you can. Just come.”

You let out a sigh and deliberated your options, “Fine. But there is a high chance you’re not showing up at my door for a week,” you point an accusatory finger at Harry.

He raises his hands in defense, “Okay, noted. Let’s go slowpoke,” he teased.

You flashed him your middle finger and a toothy grin before packing up your clarinet and setting it on your desk. You follow Harry out to his car and get in the passenger seat as he starts the car and makes his way out of your neighborhood.

“Can I ask where we are going?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Harry replied, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

“You’re so annoying,” you reply.

“You love me,” he states smugly, making your eyes grow the size of saucers.

“Not right now I don’t” you tease once you recover from your previous state of shock.

Harry shakes his head and says, “Home Depot. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

You wondered why he could be taking you to Home Depot of all places- not getting food or going shopping to find another piece of clothing you don’t need.

Harry parked easily before exiting the car, you follow after him in a haste. You have to job to catch up with Harry who seems to be walking a mile a minute to get into the building, “What the fuck are we doing here?” you ask again.

“We,” Harry says, pointing at the two of you, “Are going to paint that white wall in your office,” he says with a smile.

Your face mirrors his, a grin of your own making its way across your face. You had mentioned to Harry months ago that you were itching to paint the room but you never made the time for yourself to do that.

This time, it was you who took the lead, teasing Harry for taking too long to make his way into the store. You find your way to the back of the store where you see a few employees mixing paint for customers and you find your way to the pantone swatches, Harry immediately picking up a brown one, “I think it’ll match the wood, no?”

You laugh and shake your head, “No I want it to be your hair color.”

Harry’s mouth opens in realization before grabbing another strip. He squints, reading the name aloud, “Werge,” he says confused.

You fall into a fit of laughter before moving down the wall to look at the blues, the color you were actually hoping to get.

With Harry’s unwillingness to be serious and your contagious laughs, it took you forty five minutes to find the color you had seen online a few months ago and had screenshotted on your phone.

You make your way over to an employee and ask for a gallon of the deep navy color, paying and making your way back into Harry’s car within a few minutes.

Your knee was bouncing in anticipation on your way home and you didn’t realize until Harry rested his palm on it, asking you, “What’s got you so nervous?” to which you reply:

“Not nervous, just excited.”

Harry chuckled and kept his hand there for the rest of the ride to your house, which you found to be far too close then you wanted it to be.

You both found yourselves in your garage loading your arms with painters tape and tarp to ensure your room is painted to perfection and not too messy afterwards.

You spilled some paint into the tray and used a roller to begin putting the fresh paint on the middle of the wall. Harry gasps when he sees the color in contrast with the wood that covered every other wall in the room, “It matches so well,” he comments, using a smaller brush to begin on the bottom strip of the wall where the painters tape stuck.

He sat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him, and you stood a few feet to his left, the paint sitting between the two of you.

You nod, “I know, it compliments the wood really well.”

Harry shakes his head, “Not the wood. I meant it matches my eyes,” he draws out.

You roll your eyes and let out a shut up before looking at him.

“Seriously,” he persists, setting his head next to the gallon that sat on the floor.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, dipping your roller back onto the tray, allowing the residue to fall off before you rolled a bit on his face and shirt.

“What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up immediately.

“I had to check!” you exclaim innocently. “You know, now that I look, I think you’re right. It does match, we should use more,” you conclude.

“Now that I look,” Harry starts, with an evil glint in his eye, “I think this is the color your shirt is missing,” he concludes, flinging his brush in your direction allowing the paint to fall on your face and shirt.

“Oh my god!” you shout as Harry doubles over in laughter.

You bring your brush into the paint once more, taking a threatening step towards Harry. He flinches, making you chuckle and redirect the paint onto the wall again, making him breathe a sigh of relief.

He begins again on the bottom edge and before you could think you're safe, Harry gets paint on your ankle from where he sat on the floor.

You let out a loud gasp, “This is war!” you exclaim.

“Or you can just admit that you needed a break,” Harry shrugs, “It’s quite simple.”

You narrow your eyes and look at him, “I am going to cover you in paint. It’s quite simple,” you mock him childishly.

He shakes his head with a laugh before painting the rest of your ankle, making a ring around your foot.

It had taken two hours to complete painting the wall and to complete your paint war. You and Harry found yourselves in your backyard while your sprinklers were spraying the grass.

“Best way to clean,” Harry breathed out.

“You say you’re one with nature but what are you going to say when my grass is blue?” you ask him as you scrub at your legs to get off the paint.

“I’ll say part of me is really with nature this time,” he says shaking the water out of his hair as he walks towards the hose that was attached to the side of your house.

You shake your head in disbelief, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say, looking at Harry as he walks towards you with the hose gushing water out.

You step towards him and let him spray you down and you watch as the paint falls off your skin and into the grass, your shirt clinging to your body.

Harry tries to keep his attention on your face and not on the black bra that begins to show from your wet shirt that stuck to your body like a second skin.

You fiddled with the fit of your shirt, trying to make sure you were comfortable, before scrubbing your arms and legs clean.

Harry and you had decided after the first hit that you would do your best to avoid each other's faces just to make everything easier when it came to cleaning.

You rinse your hair fully before deciding you're as clean as you’d get without using a proper shower (which you didn’t want to turn blue from the paint), so you stepped towards Harry with your arm extended towards him.

“My turn,” Harry says softly, handing you the hose before spreading his arms out and letting the water hit his entire body, “This feels nice,” he comments.

“You’re crazy,” you reply. Harry shakes his head and takes his shirt off in an attempt to get everything off and you almost look away instinctively- you weren’t supposed to see your friend like this.

He allows the pressure of the hose to get most of the paint off his body but he seems a bit carefree about the cleanliness of his body at this point- you’re assuming this is the distraction you both needed from your mundane lives.

Harry finishes off with the hose and you run inside to grab the two of you towels, opting to stay outside for the rest of the night.

You both sit outside on the back porch swing that sat in your yard, wrapped in towels so you don’t get too cold in the autumn air. “You were right,” you mutter, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“About?” Harry edges you on and you can practically hear him smiling through his words.

“I needed a break.”

What felt like a year was only two months and in those two months you had accomplished what you had been attempting since eighteen. You finished what seemed to be the perfect piece from a technical standpoint.

It told a story of betrayal and heartbreak and it included a plethora of twists in tone and changes in tempo and unresolved keys to add edge and lead the listener on. The piece, in theory, was among the most perfect ones written.

At least that's what Harry told you and that's what you tried to tell yourself.

You had just finished the process of getting it all recorded, recruiting some of your friends from the orchestra to take home your manuscript that you wrote in harmonies and new melodies to.

You spent a week editing the music together, sending recordings back, asking for retakes, and adjusting volumes, tempos, and tone before you were satisfied with the music.

All in all, it was a musically complex and fundamentally difficult piece that could be extended into a show or turned into a series of simpler solos- whatever would get your music sold to a publisher, you were willing to do.

You had contacts from your previous attempts at selling your compositions, contacts that rejected you but told you to come back if you had something new. You did not take the suggestion lightly.

You had mastered an email with your pitch- stating your name and your credentials, attaching a file of the piece, along with the score which separated individual parts and showed their dynamic together. It was your life's work and a story you were excited to sell, and that is why you were particularly excited when you received an email back the following week.

The email, in short, explained that a publisher would like to meet with you and is interested in helping you publish the music and help you get on the radar of a symphonic orchestra.

You were a giddy mess leading up to your meeting, your leg shaking in anticipation and your heart beating so loud you swear you could feel it in your throat. So, when it arrived it felt surreal.

You stepped into the tall building in a haze, your hands clutching onto your score and your body clad in your favorite orchestral dress that you find to be the one you wear to the majority of your auditions. You call it your good luck charm.

The receptionist was short and directed you to the fifth floor and gave you strict instructions to wait to be called in by Flynn Bradford’s assistant. You sat in the waiting room with a warm overcoat covering your body in the meantime.

When you got called up your hands began to sweat. You find your way into Bradford’s office and with a nervous step forward, you take your jacket off and sit down on the small chair before his desk.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself with a handshake, Bradford immediately recognizing your name.

“Flynn Bradford, a pleasure,” he returns with a friendly smile.

He was a middle aged man with a few silver hairs peeking through, but he wore a friendly smile and seemed very composed nonetheless. He took your score and opened it immediately. He looked over it in silence for a few moments, you sitting on the edge of your seat.

“I do have to say, Ms. Y/L/N, I was waiting to meet you so I could go over this with you. I think you’re a brilliant composer,” he speaks slowly.

You swallow harshly, “Thank you so much,” you gush, “I’ve been at it since I was a kid so I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods again, sifting through the pages, “And I have to say I’m impressed by the tone in the demo and the overall markup of the piece. I think there are a few minor changes that we’d like to see done but all in all I think it’s good.”

You nod your head quickly, “Of course and I was expecting to do so. I- uh- how many changes are we thinking about here?”

“Well it’s still your piece, so quite minor ones just to increase your chances of having it sold to a school or a symphony. Or, you could keep it how it is but that might not be the easiest to sell.”

“Right, so hypothetically, if I get all the changes done and we’re satisfied within a few weeks, it can go off to you?” you ask in shock.

“It seems to be that way, yes. I’ll send you a contract and some markups once I get to talk with my team about this. It would be best to get your own lawyer to look over this for copyright purposes and to make sure you’re alright with all the fine print,” he advises.

“Yes, I will definitely do that, yeah. Thank you so much,” you reiterate.

He hums a reply and hands you back your score with a tight lipped smile, “So this meeting was a bit quicker and the other might be too depending on what you like and want. Remember all the corrections we send are suggestions so you do what you want and we’ll be alright with whatever you choose to do,” he reminds you.

You nod and shake his hand once more, leaving the building with bright eyes and a winning score in your hands.

The first instinct you had as you sat back into your car was to call Harry but you were so overwhelmed with excitement you decided that going to see him at his house would be a better idea.

After all, he deserved to be the first person to know because he helped you so much when it came to the composition of this piece.

You were smiling incredibly wide as you made your way over to his townhouse in the city. His complex was very modern, a clear juxtaposition to your victorian styled home, but you welcomed it warmly. You enjoyed the prospect of having a place to go that is more minimal in comparison to your cluttered property.

It was hardly fifteen minutes before you parked outside of his home, your car finding its normal spot in the driveway of his garage.

Your legs carried you faster than you could have imagined, rushing you to the front of his house and your hand pounded against his door with a sense of urgency.

Harry took his time making his way downstairs, a towel around his waist and an impatient girl he had hardly met waited in his bed upstairs.

He opened his door slightly, allowing his head to peek out of the small crack he created, “Hey!” he exclaimed when he realized it was you.

“Hi! Can I come in?” you ask excitedly.

“I’m not exactly decent,” his hand scratches the back of his neck, “Can you wait down here as I get some clothes on?”

“Sure, take your time,” you nod in understanding, allowing Harry to make his way back upstairs.

“Who’s at the door?” the girl asks from her spot on his bed as Harry changes quickly into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

“Just a friend, she should be gone soon,” he replies.

“You sure? She seemed really excited to see you.”

Harry lets out a sigh, “Logan, I promise she's just a friend. And what does it matter anyway?”

“Well I don't want to be the other woman,” she pouts, “But if you say she’s just a friend then I believe you.”

“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder briefly as he made his way back downstairs to where you were waiting on his sofa.

“So whats up?” he asks, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m alright. I have some news, though,” you say, enthusiasm raising once again.

“Okay, lay it on me,” Harry joins you on the sofa.

“So I met with Flynn Bradford today,” you lead on, hoping Harry could understand what the news was.

“No way,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “He picked you up? That’s amazing holy shit! Congrats!”

“Thanks! You helped so much, I thought you had to be the first to know. And on Wednesday you can help me decide what corrections to add, too. This is all so exciting! It’s happening so fast!” you ramble quickly, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug.

“No you did that all on your own! I knew they’d pick you up, too. So fucking talented,” he mumbles, returning your embrace.

“Thank you oh my goodness! Okay, I just wanted to come over quick to tell you that. I have to work on some audition music so I’ll head out in a few,” you say.

Harry opens his mouth to reply when you both hear his bedroom door open. Harry’s eyes widened in realization and your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Harry?” you hear an unrecognizable voice, “You done?”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes as you start to realize what was happening. He was with someone. He found someone and it wasn’t you.

She walks down the stairs and your head immediately turns in the direction of the girl. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your tears in the ducts of your eyes as you see her in a t-shirt you know Harry absolutely loves.

“Hey, uh Logan. This is Y/N,” he trails off lightly, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

“Hi,” you smile falsely and extend your hand for her to shake.

“Hey, I’m Logan. You’re Harry’s friend?” she presumes, looking at the two of you.

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” you pause, “Sorry, I didn’t know H was seeing anyone. This was kind of unexpected.”

“Oh that’s alright, I was going to leave soon anyway. Have to meet some friends for dinner,” she shrugged carelessly.

“No, no, you can stay. I feel bad. I can be out in a few minutes,” you tell her with a soft smile.

She looked at you and Harry intervened before she could get a word out, “That’s alright, you can both stay if you want?” he suggested.

“I really do have to go,” Logan trailed off.

Harry quickly jumped at this, “Oh! Sorry, love. Yeah, go ahead, don’t mean to keep you here if you need to be somewhere.”

“I’ll just grab my stuff,” she smiles at the two of you and heads back upstairs to where you assume she was staying in Harry’s bedroom.

You and Harry stand in silence for a moment, “Sorry I should’ve asked to come over. I’ll go, you can spend some time with her before she leaves,” you finally stammer with a slightly wavering voice.

“No!” Harry exclaims a bit too loudly, making you flinch at his tone. “You can stay,” he whispers.

“That’s alright, I have to practice anyway,” you say in a rush, leaving his house at once without looking back at him.

It was two days later when Logan showed up at Harry’s house with a soft smile on her face and her eyes filled with lust.

Not only two minutes after Harry opened the door, his lips were on hers and they were making their ways upstairs to his bedroom. Logan had come to Harry’s for a quick fuck and Harry was there to provide.

It had taken them a few weeks to get into a flow and get a general idea of each others bodys and needs and now that they were getting good sex, they didn’t take many moments to stop and catch their breath.

There were a few moments, though where Logan knew she fell short of your company. She could tell with a quick glance at Harry that he was a lovesick puppy when it came to you and it became more and more apparent the more time they spent together.

When they weren’t fucking, he spent most of his free time talking about you. The girl of his dreams and the funniest, prettiest, nicest, person he’s ever met.

She had her hands in his hair and he had his hands tugging on her waist when his phone began buzzing from his bedside table.

Logan sat up from where she laid, straddling Harry’s lap. He let out a soft groan and ran and hand through his hair as he checked who had called him.

His lips fell into an effortless smile as he answered your call, leaving Logan breathless and unfulfilled. She resulted in getting up from his bed and walking out of his house once she realized it was you he was talking to.

That following Monday, you watched as Harry made his way into your home, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the two of you as you sat on your sofa.

“How was your date with Logan?” you ask eventually.

“Oh, it was- it wasn’t a date,” Harry tried to describe, leaving you confused. Harry wasn’t one for casual hookups.

“Then what was it?” you ask timidly, hoping for an answer you can understand.

“Just meeting an old friend from college,” he coughs.

“A friend?” you ask confused.

“Yeah, uh, a friend,” he emphasized.

“Oh,” you let out softly, “Why’d you get back with her?” you ask.

“I don’t think the girl I like likes me back, so I wanted a distraction” he replies vaguely, turning on your TV in search of a new film to watch on Netflix.

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Harry looks at you for the first time that day, “Well she doesn’t act like it at all, so I think I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you shrug, “What is there to lose?”

“A person who I value a lot in my life,” he replies almost instantly.

You didn’t reply after that, allowing the film Harry chose in a haze to begin and you sink further into the sofa.

It had been an eventful week. You had sent back your manuscript twice between today and your original week and yesterday you had auditioned for the live orchestra for the annual Nutcracker production.

This had been your fifth year playing in it- you were very confident in your ability to get a spot in the orchestra- but it was the solo that brought you grief. Every year, each section had a competitive fight between musicians for the solos that are littered through the production.

You found that the busy week that had followed you around became the main reason you were able to get your mind off Harry. No matter what you did he meandered his way into your thoughts and you were beginning to feel pathetic that your mood relied on him.

It was when you came home from auditions on Tuesday evening when you got a phone call from Harry. You hesitantly picked up the phone and allowed him to speak first.

“Y/N? You there? Can you talk for a second?” he asked.

“Yeah, what’s up,” you reply.

“I need your advice. I think Logan wants to start seeing someone but she won’t admit it to me so I don’t know what I should do because I don’t want her to hold back on it just because of me,” he pushes quickly.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well why wouldn’t she admit she wants to see someone? She probably likes you, H, don’t worry. She’ll talk to you if she likes someone else.”

You heard a heavy sigh come from Harry’s end of the line as you picked up all your belongings from your car, your phone sitting between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I just- I don’t think she wants to tell me for some reason.”

What you didn’t know was that Harry was trying to prolong this call in an attempt to see if you would tell him to cut it off with Logan. It had only been a few weeks, and to be fair he hadn’t hooked up with her more then three times.

He knew he loved you but he needed confirmation that you liked him back. Logan insisted that you did but he didn’t trust her judgement as much as he trusted his own.

As you learned through numerous conversations with Harry, he is a charming man, but he is also a confusing one. He isn’t direct and he seems to beat around the bush when it comes to serious things in his life.

“Okay,” you say, confused, “Well just tell her that if she can’t be honest then she’s never going to be able to break it off with you. And if she says the same thing and you still don’t believe her just cut it off,” you advise selfishly.

You wanted to help Harry, you truly did, but you were also a human. You were selfish and needy and you wanted Harry to yourself. So, you did what a selfish, and jealous, girl would do and you hinted at breaking it off.

“Thanks,” he let out a huff of air, “Sorry, I have to sort some stuff out and I’m really stressed so I wanted your opinion about this,” he apologizes.

“It’s alright. Let me know how it goes, yeah? I gotta run some errands but I’ll see you tomorrow?” you confirm.

Harry hums in agreement and you hang up first, leaving him with the dial tone on his phone.

The first thing you do when you get in your office is check your email. You were waiting on a reply from Bradford- you had just sent in another round of corrections and asked him for minor technical critiques to finish off the piece. You were proud of where it was and you were thoroughly in love with it.

Just as you opened your laptop, you saw the taunting icon saying you have an unread email. You attempted to calm your nerves before opening it, preparing yourself for almost all senders.

But calming your nerves turned into a loud scream. Bradford had replied and informed you that he loved the piece and accepts it as your final draft. He also mentioned that he will fax over the legal documents to look over before meeting with him officially and signing all the necessary contracts.

Just as he said, later that night you received a thick stack of papers to sift off to your parents to help you look over and make sure everything was alright for you to sign.

You bind all the pages together with a few paperclips and make a quick drive into the suburbs to give your parents the good news and ask them to help you find someone to look over all the papers for you.

Your parents weren’t the most enjoyable people to live with but they were great to see in moderation. It was a large showcase of love every time you or Monica came home- they cooked, cleaned, and helped with just about everything you asked.

So, when you arrived home, you got the full treatment. Your mom had cooked a nice dinner for you all and your dad helped you look over the contracts in their entirety as you waited for dinner to be served. You deemed the papers safe and the three of you decided you could sign on them as soon as possible and get all the proper licensing.

You were overjoyed on your drive home and the moment you arrived back, you sent Bradford a quick email from your phone saying you can meet anytime to sign and that you had looked over the contracts.

The following morning, you had gotten back a response stating he was free later that afternoon and you took him up on his offer to sign on the fine Wednesday.

You met him back at his office, similar to the first time, and you had brought all the papers he had sent you, giving him a solid rundown of what you were expecting and negotiating royalties.

You had taken half an hour to settle on a final deal and Bradford had gotten the contracts readjusted for you to sign.

It was nerve wracking but exciting to be holding the pen in your hand and you signed page after page, ensuring your music could be sold and would be given proper care and proper copyright laws.

“Last one right here, Y/N,” Bradford encouraged you. Your wrist grew tired but you refused to complain considering how much you wanted this and how long you waited.

“Okay,” you grunted, signing your name sloppily and allowing Bradford to pull all the papers out from under your hold.

“So, what this all ensures from our relationship standpoint is that we are the primary distributor and we will be helping with copyright and making sure you get your money's worth,” he briefs with a chuckle. He straightens out the stack and stands up with a smile on his face.

You follow in suit and stand up at the desk, straightening out your pants, “Thank you so much,” you gush.

“Thank you for thinking to work with us,” Bradford countered, making you shake your head.

“Of course,” you say kindly, “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few weeks. Been a huge help.”

“Oh it was our pleasure, Y/N. You're a wonderful artist. I think we all enjoyed working with your piece.”

You shake Bradfords hand and exchange pleasantries as you exit his office with a smile on your face.

It was the rush of relief that went through your body that helped you realize the gravity of what just happened. Your music has been sold and now has the opportunity to be in music shops, orchestras, and played all across the globe. And that was a great feeling.

It was indescribable, to say the least. It had taken over a year to compose the piece and you had multiple failed attempts prior to this one. The piece you named Domicile was quite literally a love letter to your life.

The piece went through the ups and downs of love. Domestic love, platonic love, romantic love. It was all encompassed in the piece you titled home.

Written from the back of your mind, you had no idea how to articulate how proud of yourself you were. It was self expression and it was beautiful.

Later that evening, Harry arrived at your home as he usually did. He held a small calculator and his laptop in his arm as he abandoned his car in your driveway and made his way up to your door.

He knocked before opening it, knowing you always forget to lock it when you came home from work, and he followed the noise of soft jazz down the hall and into your office.

The paint smell had finally vanished the room and he found you sitting comfortably on the floor with your legs folded beneath you. “Hey, how was your day?” He asks, walking in and sitting across from you on the floor.

“Really fucking good,” you grin, making eye contact with him.

“Care to explain?” he asks with wide eyes and an encouraging smile.

“Yes,” you say dramatically, “I, Y/N Y/L/N, am officially,” you pause for effect.

“Oh come on,” Harry groans in anticipation.

“I am officially a signed artist,” you squeal in excitement.

“No fucking way,” he says softly, “No fucking way!” he yells. “I knew you would oh my goodness! This is amazing! We have to celebrate-” he rambles on.

“Harry!” you exclaim with a giggle, “No need to celebrate this is enough!” you assure.

“No, no, no,” Harry says, “We gotta do something. Even if it’s just a dinner with Mon and I. We gotta.”

“No,” you reiterate firmly.

“Fine,” Harry says, “But you’re coming with me,” he says standing up. He extends his hand out and helps you stand before leading you to your living room.

He gently tugs your arm towards him and he presses his chest up against yours. “Play it on the speaker, love,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling back and using your phone to play the symphony over your speaker system per Harry’s request.

Harry smiled at you and gently put his hand up to yours, interlocking your fingers and holding you tightly. “Dance with me?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“Of course, sir,” you tease, stepping into his hold, his arms wrapping around your waist and your hands draped over his shoulders lightly.

“I’m really proud of you,” he whispers, swaying back and forth.

“Thank you so much,” you hum, “Seriously, you helped with so much of it. I really appreciate it.”

Harry ducked his head in a bashful manner, unsure of how to reply to your high praise, “I’d do it again if I had to.”

You shake your head, looking out the window next to you two. The sun was setting and the sky was a painting of oranges and pinks, “God, Harry.”

“What,” he chuckles, following your gaze.

“I cannot believe you’re real,” you whisper, you hand moving to meet his jaw. You graze your thumb over his skin in utter disbelief.

“Harry?” you call out softly. He was zoned out, staring at your profile.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“Can I kiss you?” you breathe out timidly. You don’t know where exactly you got all the courage that consumed your body at that current moment, but you were thankful for it.

Harry swallowed thickly before his eyes met yours, “Yes please,” he whispers back at you.

Your hand that rested on his jaw caressed the skin for a moment before you leaned into his warmth. Your lips met his lightly, you pulling away too quickly for his liking. Harry looked at you once more before leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet yours heavily.

You smile into his mouth, absolute joy coursing through your veins as he kissed you so carefully but so harshly. Your bodies stilled into the kiss, your mouths moving in sync slowly, absorbing every inch of each other.

Harry lets out a small groan as you grind slowly against him, his head threatening to roll back if it weren’t for your hand holding his head still.

His hands moved along your back comfortingly making your body melt into his expertly. You pull away again, Harry looking at you with dimmed eyes, you completely out of breath, “Songs over,” you whisper.

“So restart it,” he replies with a small grin.

Harry ended up seeing the full performance of Midsummer the last night it was performed at the theater. He apologized profusely and insisted he’d see the last of the show if it was the last thing he did, so you let him come and sit right in the front as he wished.

Just as the first time, he sent you smiles of luck before your solo and a few more afterwards to show he was proud of you. Just as you anticipated, he is the best person to cheer you on during a performance.

You knew Harry would be waiting for you in the lobby, so you held off on putting your overcoat on and allowed yourself to step out of the backstage area with your black dress and short heels, your clarinet and jacket in hand.

He held his arm out for you once you became close enough for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and you walked into his hold, “I got something for you,” he tells you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask with a smile creeping its way onto your lips.

Harry smiles at you before handing you the flowers that sat in his other hand. It was an assortment of long stem red roses, what he read to be the traditional rose to give after a performance.

“Thank you,” you whisper in awe, your eyes meeting his as he looks at you.

Harry hums in response and tugs you closer to his body before leaving a quick peck on your lips and pulling away just as fast as he approached you.

You and Harry were confused to say the least. You had both confirmed you liked each other the night you got signed but you found it difficult for the two of you to label what was going on. Harry wanted it to be exclusive and you wanted to give it a trial run to see how it would work. And though you did give it a trial run, the two of you were yet to discuss what was going on.

You assumed this would be like any other relationship you had been in- after a few months and a handful of dates, you’d consider yourselves partners- but this was vastly different. You have known Harry for a few years now and he has always been a part of your life. So what counted as a date and what was as normal?

Well, tonight constituted a date. Harry had told you before he arrived that he would be taking you out for a nice dinner after your show and to be ready for the best night of your life. You rolled your eyes at his antics and humored him by showing him the outfit you had picked out- the dress you found yourself wearing every Sunday- and a different jacket then you usually wore- this one more flattering for the body.

Harry nodded in approval at this and made his way to the theater, you asking one of your friends to give you a ride so you could go home with Harry later that night.

Now you sat in Harry’s car with his hand resting on your knee, your hand covering his as he drives you both to dinner. He was clad in the same suit he wore the first time he saw you and it subtly matched the black dress and white coat with pleats that you wore next to him.

Harry informed you when you got in the car that he would be taking you to his favorite (fancy) steakhouse in the next city over. Before you could protest her told you it was in celebration of your final performance and being signed, therefore your protests would only further encourage him.

“Will these flowers be alright sitting in the car during dinner?” you ask him.

“Not sure,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “I’ll get you new ones if they aren’t.”

“No!” you’re quick to stop him, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well what if I want to? You gonna stop me from fulfilling my inner desires?” he asks you teasingly.

You roll your eyes at him and look out the window. The soft sounds of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac fill the silence as Harry exits the highway and turns into the parking lot of Del Friscos, the steakhouse.

Harry exits the car first, rushing to your door so he can open the door for you. You smile at him as you step out of the car and walk in the building hand in hand.

The restaurant was dimly lit and had high, round booths around the perimeter of the room, tables with pristine white tablecloths among the center. Harry met the host with a small smile and a, “Styles, party of two,” before being led to a corner booth with you in toe.

You smile at Harry as you slide into the booth, your hands making their way to the hem of your dress and tugging on it, “This place is really nice,” you comment your voice laced with insecurity.

“Yup, that’s why we look really nice,” Harry reminds you.

“I feel like this is normal,” you chuckle, “I wear this every Sunday.”

“My girl looks this nice every Sunday and I never knew? Might have to make a pit stop Sunday nights too,” Harry compliments.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “I’d be alright with that.”

Harry smiles at you as a waitress comes over and asks what drinks you’d like.

The dinner was filling and well-made, you found yourself laughing harder than you ever had and eating the best food you’ve had in awhile.

Harry held your hand as you left the steakhouse and he opened the passenger seat door for you, rushing to the other side to turn the heater on for you, “One more stop before I bring ya home,” Harry tells you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Alright, where?”

“Oh, Y/N, you should know by now that if I don’t tell you it’s a secret!”

“Well it was worth a try,” you shoot him a smile, your hand finding its place in his.

Harry hums in agreement, “Just know if I want you to know, you’ll know.”

You let out a laugh at his stubbornness, “Alright sir,” you say in a posh accent.

Harry lets out an exaggerated hey before saying, “That’s what I sound like when I talk to my boss.

You burst out in laughter and Harry goes on to tell you an embarrassing story from the first time he met his boss.

When Harry’s car reverses into a spot, your eyes shoot up in surprise at your arrival at the hardly-built riverwalk in your town. It was a new location and half the restaurants were still in the process of being built but it was still a nice place to go.

You catch the door before Harry can, you send him a smug smile and take his hand as he tugs you gently towards the ice cream shop he seemed to be eyeing.

The location was dimly lit with blue tinted lights and a few wall sconces that gave a warm orange glow.

“How did you know I wanted to come here?” you asked him finally, coming to a stop and stepping inside the building.

“It’s just about the only thing you’ve talked about for about two months,” Harry teased you with an accusatory finger.

Your lips curve upwards as you exhale a laugh, “Okay, you got me there.”

Harry smirks at you as you look at the menu before you, stepping up to the teen worker who looked far too tired to be awake, “Can I get a scoop of chocolate? And he’ll have,” you point at Harry.

“Uh- I’ll have a scoop of vanilla with graham crumbs please,” Harry gives the worker a cheeky grin and wraps his arm around your waist as you wait for your cones.

You smile in thanks as Harry pays, heading out of the building almost immediately to be met with a gust of wind and a lit up river beside you.

Harry stays by your side as you both walk in silence taking in the scenery, eating your ice cream peacefully. It was a really nice way to spend your evening and you found yourselves enjoying each other's presence more than each other's conversation.

“Okay,” you swallow the last bit of your ice cream, “What’s your dream travel destination?” you ask.

Harry's eyebrows raise in amusement, “What, did you look up first date questions?”

You stifle out a laugh, “Maybe, I didn’t know if it would be awkward.”

Harry lets out an exaggerated, “Ha!” before redirecting you back in the direction of his car, “That’s cute that you care so much.”

“What and you don’t care?” you tease.

“I care just not enough to google first day questions,” he pokes your side playfully.

You laugh out a “Fine!” and redirect the conversation to your performance from earlier that night.

It was a full week apart from Harry and you were excited to reunite with him. Your week had been full with auditions for different parts in the Nutcracker every day so you found yourself unavailable to spend your Monday and Wednesday with Harry, having little to no time to yourself.

Now, the following Sunday, the only thing between Harry and yourself was your front door.

Harry was officially invited to your orchestra’s gala in celebration of completing Midsummer. You both had decided that Harry would arrive promptly two hours before you needed leave and you two would get ready together.

He was lying down on your bed as you leaned over your bathroom counter in an attempt to perfect your eyeliner, “Don’t know why you bother with that,” you hear him grumble.

You let out a chuckle and stood back to decide if it was even enough, “Me neither it’s too fucking hard.”

Harry lets out a snort, “That's what she said.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him through your mirror, “You sure you’re not fifteen?”

Harry smiles, “You sure The Office is only for fifteen year olds?” he shoots back.

Your face matches his and you lean into the mirror once more to perfect your eyeliner before moving to your closet to change into your dress for the night, prompting Harry to begin getting into his suit as well.

Today, for the nicer event, you wore a nude dress with navy accents towards the bottom and a leg slit Harry thought made you look absolutely ravishing. And, in perfect coordination, Harry wore a navy suit with a white half-buttoned shirt underneath and his favorite red boots that reminded him of an old western movie you’d watched a few months back.

He held your hand as you stepped out of your closet and let out a dramatic “Oh damn!” at first sight before spinning you around so he can get a full idea of your outfit.

You fall into a fit of giggles and collapse into his hold and he sways back and forth, “I really like you,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you reply with a grin, “I like you a lot back.”

“Well how lucky am I?”

“So damn lucky,” you tell him as you let out a silent giggle, “Come on, let's head out.”

The drive to the theater seemed all too short for the both of you. You were sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company on the way there, stealing a few kisses at a red light or a longing glance while Harry was concentrating on changing lanes during rush hour.

When you arrived at the hotel the gala was held at, you both found your way inside and to the tables that were set up with your names on small place cards. You both sat there in soft chatter as you awaited the arrival of your friends who were to sit at the same table.

Eventually, you were met with a crowd of people around your table and your voices raised in volume and excitement. It was merely 8:00 when your ears were greeted by the sound of a disconnected microphone.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Jordan Pennington, the conductor of the Midsummer Night’s Dream orchestra performance and I’m here to recognize each performer for their outstanding work over the course of these past months,” his voice cut through the room like glass.

Jordan then went on to state each performer and his favorite memory with them through the course of the orchestral production.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Jordan introduced, an image of you as a baby and you now making their way onto the screen behind him, “Y/N is a strong clarinetist we are blessed to have in our group. She works very hard in the theater and outside and has recently been signed as a composer so I’m hoping I’ll be conducting her work soon,” he paused as people congratulated you. You didn’t publicize your signing, so a lot of people were in shock and impressed.

“She’s been with us for a while so we have a few good memories with her at this theater but I think everybody's favorite is just about any time Y/N brings lunch,” he pauses as everyone starts laughing. You bury your face in your hands as Harry looks at you with a confused smile.

“When Y/N brings lunch she without fail trips on one of the steps and spills something,” Jordan informs. You let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughter and Harry covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Can we move on?” you call out.

Jordan lets out a laugh and obliges, moving onto the next person on his list.

You glance at Harry who is taking a sip of wine and you raise your eyebrows at him, making him nearly spit out his drink, “Sorry, love,” he coughs out, bringing you in for a hug, “Just sounds so much like you it’s impossible,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes at him and continue to listen as Jordan goes through the rest of your orchestra.

When he finishes, your food is devoured and the middle of the room is opened to allow people to dance. You glance at Harry and take his hand, reminding him of the night you first kissed, “Come on,” you mutter.

He allows you to take him to the center of the room where some of your colleagues have begun to conglomerate and dance slowly to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, you two joining in the mass.

Unlike last time, you knew exactly how to act, your arms immediately finding a home around his shoulders and pulling him close so your flesh is against his.

Harry smiled at this and squeezed you at the waist as a silent way of saying I love you, his head leaning in towards yours and your foreheads resting against each other.

“How is it that we always end up dancing?” he asks you.

“Not sure, I was never good at it either but here I am,” you chuckle a reply.

Harry’s eyes shoot up in disbelief, “There is no way you weren’t a good dancer.”

“Swear on it,” you say, your lips tugging upwards to make a smile.

“No. I refuse to believe that, you’re so good,” he says, his eyes shooting down to your feet and then back up to your eyes making you giggle.

“Nope,” you say confidently, “Just found you and you were good. By association I’m good.”

“So what you’re saying is you found the right partner?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You fall into a full belly laugh at his antics before agreeing, “I found the right partner.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shots #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic

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myelocin · 3 years

Text

tomato sauce for hello, and mornings for i love you

synopsis: “you are the who, love is the what, and this is the why.”

genre: fluff | wc: 2,300+

characters: konoha akinori

this is why i need you | jesse ruben

a/n: HALLOW??? HALLOWWW?????? @gg9183 MY ANGEL MY LOVE HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO U we will ignore the fact that i am late i meant to post this yst but my laptop updated and i didnt save a fat chunk of this LOL. (speech aside) i love you. konoha loves u. i’m in this corner of the world blowing a candle for u and cheering u on always. happy birthday my best girl <3

It’s a good day to love you today.

Konoha’s up by seven, then at the grocery store by seven forty-five. A quick breakfast in the car: just a bottle of orange juice and a bag of chips that he just knows you’ll scold him for.

Pick up the balloons after heading to the bakery, then finding a way to somehow sneak all of what he has prepared in the house before you wake up. He smiles, delighting in the thought of another year with you.

Three birthdays together, a little apartment situated close to the city, and a multitude of inside jokes that would piss off Bokuto on the days he feels excluded. You snicker with him when he whispers his commentary towards you in the theaters, and he’ll do the same when you critique how the popcorn tastes that day.

There’s a lot of unknowns that balance what keeps the joy afloat, he thinks. He doesn’t know what to say when calling the doctor for his yearly checkup, and he doesn’t know how to counter the what-if scenarios the two of you usually talk about.

Sitting in his car, he chuckles. The rush hour of the morning borders unforgivable today, and while he could have sat still in his car, grumbling about the inconvenience, he settles for huffing towards it instead—defining factors like that as one of the inevitables in life.

So he thinks of you.

He left the house a little before sunrise, with you still asleep in bed. On the left side, wrapped in 75% of the blankets, with the plush cradled in between your arms. Some days he regrets winning that for you. While you said the expression on the hamster’s face mirrors his when he’s coming home from a rough day at work, it’s also the same plush that’s usually sandwiched in-between the two of you every time he tries to hold you at night.

Some days it’s like that, but today, he’s thankful it’s there to keep you company while he’s out here.

He’s always heard about the things people do for love, and while in the beginning he was never one to believe in its influence, as he catches a glimpse of himself on the rearview mirror, he laughs. There’s at least ten paper bags from the grocery store—all of which are meant just for breakfast, and a box with the god-awful hot pink wrapping paper he couldn’t have changed at the very last minute.

It’ll have to make do, he supposes. Slip ups happen sometimes, and in love, perfection is only a far-fetched dream.

In youth, love is make believe. Love is the ice cream truck that passed by his street every afternoon, and the coins his mother would leave out on the kitchen table for him just enough to treat himself. Love is the stories and the idea that he’d find a hand to hold and squeeze tight, even if all the boys in class would roll their eyes and stay away from the cooties.

Love is good.

Then as it stays good, love becomes great.

He learns of that the second he turned twenty and met you on aisle three of the grocery store at 2 in the morning. Pyjama bottoms, hair in a bun, and you’re squinting at the labels—trying to decide whether to get chocolate or vanilla for the frosting.

He said his hello then, because love at that time was also the three second push that came into his life as a show of brevity.

Konoha eases off the brakes, letting the car roll for a good couple of meters before slowly coming into a stop again—the traffic still present.

With a sigh, he resorts to tapping on the steering wheel and reliving through the memories again. He had no game then, he realizes. He approached you with half of the pickup line he plucked from reddit jumbled up as he said it, and he had a tomato sauce stain on his shirt.

Now that he thinks about it, he looked a little sleazy.

But the world has its ways of redefining what it means to be perfect, he supposes. What happened after was you turned your head, two tubs of frosting on either of your hands, and a smile already cracking its way through the prior confusion on your face.

And shit, he remembers, that’s all it took for him to realize that perhaps this is what they mean about the great that comes with the redefinition of love.

From then, you became a fixture of his every day. Three years since tomato sauce stains and your icing dilemma, he still learns more and more about you, finding home and falling in love as the days go by.

So today is a good day to love you.

Your third birthday you’re celebrating with him, and he’s in his car crawling his way through the traffic with a jar of tomato sauce and two kinds of canned icing in the paperbags in the back seat just to commemorate the first hello.

Tapping his finger against the steering wheel, he smiles. There’s a comfort in knowing that you’re headed home. Back to you, back to love.

He hopes that god awful plush is keeping you warm, Konoha thinks with a smile. Then with a laugh, he steps his foot off the brakes again, the world letting what’s there flow as motion comes once more and eases him into the road that brings him closer to you.

An hour later, he’s trudging up the stairs.

To be fair, in the parking lot he did try to think of at least a speech to present to you. Perhaps the classic ‘I love you, babe. Happy birthday,’ followed by a suave look, a bouquet of flowers, and breakfast in bed. He smirks, knowing even though blunt sentimentality has never been you nor his’ style when it comes to communication, you always had a soft spot for the moments where he did remind you that his love will always have the intention to stay.

Staring infront of the door, all it takes to put himself together is a deep breath, an honest smile, and just like that, he’s good to go.

Cake in hand and the strings to the balloon pinched in between his fingers, he nudges the door open, trying to be quiet as he cranes his neck and listens for noise inside the house. Delighting in the silence, he makes his way in, careful so he doesn’t disturb the peace.

Mornings have always been easy with you.

You wake up around the same time as he does, and breakfast is always shared at a table for two. Easy conversation, sleepy smiles, and little chuckles sprinkled before the beginning of the day is kickstarted.

Konoha smiles. There’s a cake with a smiley face iced in the center and a bouquet with all your favorite blooms in tow. A whole lot of love is the product of the bits built one on top of the other from the everyday that remains his—though it’s as much as yours too.

There’s love found in home, three years shown within, and the subtle promise of a lifetime in the presence that stays.

“You know,” a voice jolts him. Konoha, wide eyed, turns towards the kitchen, quickly spotting you.

You’re sat in your usual spot by the window, a bowl of cereal in front of you, and his hoodie wrapped around your frame. You smirk at him, spoon in hand, eyes to him. “If you’re going to surprise me, you could have probably pulled it off if you didn’t have a whole concert in the shower.”

His tongue pokes his cheek, the red on his face displayed in full colors because of how bright the morning is. “Last night you said you were sleeping in, so I figured you’d be knocked the fuck out till 10 or something.”

“That was the plan,” you laugh, shifting your eyes back down to your breakfast and scooping up a bite.

You hear a huff, then when you turn to him, you smile again. Konoha’s standing a little awkwardly in the middle of the living room now. His Donald Duck house slippers on, and his socks aren’t even matching. On top of the paper bags on the table, he’s still trying his hand at balancing the cake, bouquet, and strings from the balloon in his hand.

He’s looking at anywhere but towards you.

Laughing softly under your breath, you throw him a lifeline. “Want me to turn around and have you clean up your entrance so that I can pretend to be surprised when you say happy birthday?”

When you look back up, he’s already made it halfway across the living room, just now stepping into the kitchen to plop down on the seat in front of you. Puffing his cheeks, he sets the boxes down on the clear end of the table and leans forward. Meeting him halfway, you smile as he presses a quick kiss on your temple.

In laughter, he eases into love. “Happy birthday,” he smiles.

Smiling along with him, you hold out the spoonful you meant to give to yourself in offering towards him. “Morning.”

Even though he’s a little disappointed he couldn’t pull off the surprise, the smile on his face is still cheeky when he faces you. Mornings are easy, he thinks again, because love is.

“I can still cook for you,” he offers, taking the fork from your hand and reaching in the bowl to pick at the bits of fruit instead of the actual cereal.

You quirk a brow in his direction. “By that do you mean you’ll just plate the takeout you got and hide the boxes so you can tell me you cooked for me?”

“Will that impress you?” Konoha laughs, the smile on his face easy.

“Depends,” you shrug. “What kinda takeout did you get?” Peering into the boxes he tries to shield with his body, he eventually moves away with a laugh when you swat him on the shoulder and poke him to the side. “Was anything even open this early?”

He points the fork with the slice of strawberry in your direction, his face smug. “I ordered in advance.”

Narrowing your eyes, you lean forward and take a bite, laughing when he gives you a look for biting the piece you don’t doubt he’s been eyeing for a while now.

You snort, recalling the memory of him hunched over the desk the other night, shooing you away everytime you’d enter the room. “Tell me you didn’t bother that poor auntie at 11 in the evening just for this?”

He looks away, eyes closed. “I’m a resourceful man.”

“She’s in her sixties and 11 is probably three hours past her bedtime!” you laugh.

Konoha looks at you anyway, smiling. “But are you happy I got you your pastries?”

Eyeing the box, it doesn’t take much for love to resettle into peace again, your joy quickly mirroring his. “You drove all the way there for me?”

“Always for you,” he responds, like it’s the most obvious thing.

You reach forward and pinch his cheek, finding love in the silly bits of him too. “But you always complain about how annoying it is to drive this early in the morning. I know rush hour’s a bitch,” you try to reason.

He shakes his head. “I know. But it’s your day.”

“You drove there last week too when I was craving,” you mutter. Konoha crosses his arms one over the other, and leans his head against it down on the table. Looking through his lashes and up at you, he beams. “That’s because I love you.”

Poking through a bigger piece of fruit from your bowl, you bring the fork towards him, until it’s just barely poking at his lips. “You know, you’re really sweet when you’re decided.”

Accepting the strawberry, Konoha suppresses a chuckle. “I’m always decided when it comes to you, what do you mean?”

Shrugging, you sift through the contents of your bowl, looking for more slices of fruit. You’ll add more next time, you note in the back of your mind. He smiled more when he ate the strawberries instead of the initial blueberry.

“I also got tomato sauce and icing,” he admits, tilting his head to the paper bags still on the coffee table in the living room. “To commemorate hello.”

“So you’re a poet now, I see,” you tease.

“I can be a lot of things in this life.”

You tilt your head. “Like?”

“I’ll tell you once I think about more things that impress you the most.”

You smile. “Just be Akinori.”

He smiles again, love written along the peace in his expression. “Deal.”

“It’s nice to be loved,” you tell him, eyeing the bouquet with the blooms and the cake with the smiley face peeking through the window of the box.

“Because I love you, that’s why,” he replies.

Morning is easy.

A table for two, light conversation, and a history lived and loved even though silence tends to resettle in the room from time to time. Memory relished through love and the flow of the day nurturing enough for him to delight in the moment and feel at ease because this is the kind of love that’s meant to stay kind for a lifetime.

“Happy birthday,” he smiles, and when you look at him, he thanks his lucky stars for that three second rush of brevity that pushed him to begin love with a hello.

ily always <3

#gray <33

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pedritobalmando · 3 years

Text

Running away - chapter I

Summary : Being Javier Peña’s on and off girlfriend has never been easy, but things becomes even more complicated when he leaves Texas to work in Colombia.

Pairing : Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings : maybe some cussing, and a lot of bad writing

Word count : 1,744

A/N : this is my first Pedro related story and english is not my first language, so sorry for the many mistakes I made ! Feel free to tell me if you spot any, I’d appreciate !

Next chapter {masterlist} {taglist}

Everything was perfect. You were wearing your fanciest dress, the one with an open back and your most extravagant low-cut neckline, a prohibitively expensive red lipstick your lover had bought you for your birthday of which the color matched your outfit, and heels you knew you could not spend the entire night in. As pretty as they looked, they clearly were the opposite of comfy. Still it was your favorite pair. You had taken a few hours to get prepared, from plucking your brows to shaving your legs, from stylizing your hair to putting on some perfume. Everything was perfect except for one little detail that changed everything. Javier was late. Again. So, no, everything wasn’t perfect. You were perfect, and he, he was ruining everything. Again. Yet, you were still waiting for him, embarrassed and frustrated.

You hated how he made every situation about himself though it originally wasn’t. You hated how he cared so little about your needs, desires and obligations that he didn’t even make the effort to arrive on time. Not even to please you, just to be a good boyfriend, a decent lover and life partner. But this wasn’t even about you either. It was about your family, your parents that were waiting for you both, not only to grab a simple lovely dinner, but to celebrate their pearl anniversary. 30. 30 years of marriage, and you, you couldn’t even get a linear relationship with the boy you loved the most.

Fuck, how many times had you asked him to pay attention to you, and he swore he’d listened but kept doing the mistakes again and again ? How many times had you broken up, only for him to plead you to get him back ? And how many times had it been the same with switched roles ? How many times had you tried without ever succeeding ? One more time, it seemed.

But this wasn’t just the preparation of a coming storm. Your exasperated sighs breaking the silence of the room, your fingertips rhythmically hitting the wooden table with impatience, it was more. At least you wanted it to be more. You wanted it to be the final act, the last time you’d be waiting for him, for his head to become conscious of all the harm he’d done to you these past couple of years. You wanted it to be more, because you wanted more from him.

You got up the chair you were sitting in, going to the phone and immediately dialed his office number. But he never picked up, you were left with incessant dial-tone. You hung up with rage starting to boil inside your veins, and after 3 deep breathing, you composed your dad’s number to ask if he could come pick you up.

You had almost forgotten about Javier when he finally ringed at your parent’s doorbell. “Uncle Javi !” Screamed your niece when she saw him entering the room, stopping the dance show she was giving you all only to run to his arms.

Javier chuckled, lifting the little girl up in the air and spinning around to amuse her before putting her back on the ground. His smile was wide when he greeted your family with a wave. “M’sorry to be late, got caught up at work.” Of course he did.

He kissed your mom’s cheek and shook your dad’s hand, wishing them both a happy anniversary before sitting beside you. “Hey.” He unconsciously put his hand on your thigh, stroking your clothed skin with his thumb. “You look stunning.” You didn’t care. Not one bit.

“You promised.” Javier’s brows furrowed at the words. “You told me you wouldn’t be late.” Your words sounded cold but you in fact felt really hot. You took your glass of champagne to take a sip, not even minding glancing at him just once. You’d had preferred him to stay home, you didn’t want to have another fight, especially not here, not now, but you didn’t want either to act as if everything was fine. Because it was not, and it hadn’t been for the last couple of years.

“I had work to do.” He repeated himself, to which you just hummed. Same melody, same lyrics. You grew more and more tired of it. “I promise I will make it up to you.” You would have seen how genuine his eyes looked if you had turned to him, but the intention was far from you. You knew the second your eyes would land on him you’d weaken, and you wanted to that to happen the latest possible.

You almost chocked on your drink, a sour laugh falling from your mouth. “Yet again an unkept promise.”

He sighed. “I think we should talk.”

He thought you should talk ? Wow, what a genius.

You immediately stood up and he followed you to the backyard. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t give silence any time to shine. “We caught a big one today, I couldn’t just leave.” You stopped by a tree, your bare back hitting its bark. “I can’t do what I want, plus it was a big opportunity !” The excitement in his voice only broke you even more. You were happy for him, you really were, but you couldn’t handle being alone anymore, and realizing you had nothing to do together. You simply weren’t made for each other, and it hurt deep. “Remember the guy who got arrested at the airport ? He’s a big one, he works for some Colombian cartel, it’s not just US anymore, we got our hands on-”

“Kiss me.” You cut him off out of nowhere. There he finally was, the silence. Javier frowned, not used to this. Usually you would have had said that it didn’t matter, screamed that you were as important as his work, yelled that you hated him. But you kept calm, and that scared him more than all the fights you both had entered into during your 2 years on and off relationship.

“What ?”

“Kiss me.” You repeated, grabbing his collar to pull him closer.

Javier couldn’t perceive any emotion in your tone, but still as frighten as it made him, he did so.

When he woke up the next morning, you were not in bed, not even in the house, and all the stuff you had left there even for months had disappeared. The only thing to be yours he found out was your spare key on the dining table.

He had tried to call you, had knocked at your door for days, but you never answered. So he just gave up, and a month past without any word from you. Javier felt miserable to say the least. You had never remained silent for so long, and leaving himself with his own thoughts finally made him understand. You deserved better. You deserved a man that would put you first, someone that could satisfy your smallest and stupidest desires, who could leave for 2 whole days without making you panic over the fact of if he will make it alive or not. You deserved someone who could love you and prove it. And he could never be that man.

“She misses you, you know.” Javier frowned at his dad.

“What ? How-”

“She came to see me, helped me planting some flowers.” Javier sighed. He knew just how much you loved gardening with his father, always happy to give him a hand. “She cried.” And right there, Javi’s heart twitched in his ribcage. He felt sick knowing he did this to you and it was far from the first time. “You should call her.”

The agent pinched his lips. “No, she needs to learn to live without me. It’s for her best. We both know that.”

His dad shrugged. “Ya know what they say. The heart wants what it wants.”

But Javier couldn’t keep torturing her. That’s why he chose the more pragmatic solution.

After a month and a half of radio silence, Javi knocked at your door one last time, and he was glad you finally answered him. But the smile you were wearing only made him feel even more guilty. Maybe he shouldn’t have minded coming.

“I’m leaving.” He wasted no time saying. He didn’t want to beat around the bush, not anymore.

“What ?” Your lips had fallen to a pout.

“I’m going to Colombia. For the DEA. I-”

“How long ?” He could see just how broken you were, because there was no light in your eyes, and they felt as cold as his heart.

“Months, years. Dunno.”

You felt sick, as if you were going to puke right on his shoes. “You’re kidding, right ?”

When he saw just how wet your eyes had become, Javier took a step forward and put his hands on your hips. It worsened it, and the tears started falling on your cheeks. A feeling of disgust fulfilled Javi’s soul knowing he was the monster of the story. He had always been. Your worst lover and best nemesis. Impossible scheme.

“My love, listen.”

“No !” You almost screamed, but your voice was muffled as you didn’t want to totally break in a cry. “You were supposed to come back to tell me you loved me, that you’re only happy when we’re together. That’s how we work, that is how we do it !”

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded even more broken than your heart. His whole world had shattered into pieces when he had accepted the job, knowing exactly what it would imply for the both of you, and he was desolated to make you go through the same pain. But it would be the last one, and it was all that mattered.

“I hate you.” You loved him. Though you loved him so much it hurt and you confused both feelings. Or was it just combined in one ?

“I know.” And with those last words, Javi slipped an arm behind your back and put his head on your shoulder so you would not see his own tears hurtling down his skin. Despair. That was what had pushed him taking the job, that was what was supposed to save your life from misery.

“I hope you never come back.” You muttered.

Javier froze. Still he understood your statement, but the way you said it was full of disdain, bitterness and disgust. It comforted him, in some way. He had made the right choice.

#javier peña #javier peña imagine #javier peña fanfic #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena #javier pena imagine #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #jp

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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

Text

Woof! goes the demon

— pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader (Female) — genre: Fluff — word count: 1.3k — Rating: G — warnings: none — collab with: @biaswreckme my partner in crime <3

— summary:

Hoseok nodded at you, taking the paper from your hands. “Y/N, don’t worry, I got this! I love dogs!,” he said cheerfully as he made his way to your living room. You failed to notice how he cautiously looked around the room before entering, or how he avoided sitting on the sofa that Odin was perched on, looking at Hoseok like he was a whole meal.

— A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY RARACUBE @heejinnien!! I hope you like the fic, its our first attempt at crack (we’re not good at that) HAVE AN AMAZING BIRTHDAY, MAKE LOTS OF MEMORIES, ENJOY YOUR CAKE. YOUR BOOMERS LOVE YOU <333333 — birthday party: @hoebii, @jinings, @voiceswithoutlips, @biaswreckme, @xiaokoo @tae-cup @taegularities @moccahobi

“Hobi!!” you said as you opened the door to your apartment. You had to leave for an emergency meeting at the office but unfortunately you couldn’t find a dog sitter for your precious puppy so your friend Hoseok had agreed to look after your dog, Odin, for the day. He was standing in the doorway, looking like a runway model with his red hair combed back carefully to show his glorious forehead. He was wearing a grey sweater with washed blue jeans. The sweater had an actual stuffed bear attached to it, it was adorable, you almost reached out to pet the cute plushie. Maybe not the best choice to be a pet sitter, but it was completely and unashamedly Hoseok.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a cute smile and stepped inside to remove his sneakers.

“Okay, so here’s Odin’s schedule, all you have to do is feed him and play with him a bit, he’s still young so he has a lot of energy,” you instructed as you handed Hoseok a piece of paper. You had written down your dog’s meal times and what he liked to eat to make it easier for Hobi. “You don’t really have to take him for a walk since I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Thank you so much Hobi, I don't know what I’d have done without you!” you quickly pecked his cheeks and left the apartment, missing how his whole face turned red, like a cute tomato.

When your boss said the words “emergency meeting” you thought something had gone wrong, turns out he just wanted to go over the project details, again. You had already heard all the arguments and details so you just sat back in your chair and toyed with your phone, bored out of your mind. Your thoughts far away on your favorite boy, Odin, the cutest Shih Tzu you’d ever seen.

You discreetly moved your phone under the table as your boss rambled on and turned on the application that was linked to your nanny-cam. You had bought one out of concern, since you always left Odin with a dog sitter.

Your jaw almost dropped as soon as you saw what was happening in your living room. Hoseok was standing on the sofa, his blue shark socks in stark contrast to the brown leather, he was holding a chicken breast in his hand. Odin was trying to jump up on the sofa but his tiny legs barely reached the top of the seat, he was yapping at Hoseok, tail wagging at the speed of light. Hoseok bent down on his knees and brought the chicken closer to Odin but instead of going for the chicken, the little Shih Tzu mustered all his strength, leaped high into the air in a graceful display and effectively tore off the left leg of the stuffed bear that adorned Hoseok’s grey sweater.

You almost jumped in your seat guiltily and quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed it, but apparently you had been discreet enough. You could see Hoseok was as shocked as you were; he was frozen in place, his eyes and mouth wide open staring at Odin, who was happily running around with the bear’s leg on his mouth, unfazed and unaware of the rip on the human’s sweater with stuffing coming out of it. You had no idea what to do now. Would Hobi be angry with you?

You looked at the clock and even the seconds seemed to slow, the meeting dragging over and seemingly never-ending, until it finally did. You stopped looking at the feed when you saw what happened, a little apprehensive on how Hoseok would react when you talked to him in person, but there was no more stalling. the meeting was finally over and you needed to get home to deal with the situation. You were dreading going home to the chaos and Hobi’s expensive sweater ruined, so you stopped by the bakery to get his favorite treats to try and appease the situation.

You almost considered taking the stairs going up your apartment, but that would be too much of stalling and you didn’t really want to walk up several flights while carrying a big jar of Nutella. You stopped at your front door, pausing and carefully and quietly pressing your ear against the door, trying to listen to what was happening inside. You heard a loud sneeze with some sniffling noises and a soft, “Odin, no!” You take a deep breath and press the password to enter, gathering the courage, and you step into the place.

You were certainly not anticipating the scene you found. Hoseok is a tall man, so to see him like that was unexpected, to say the least. You found him perched on the sofa’s armrest, crouching, a panicked expression that was visible not only in his face but his whole body, and Odin was just sitting there, innocently looking at him with his head tilted to the left, that ripped leg still in his mouth. If you didn’t know your dog was a very good boy, by the way Hobi was looking at him, scared like that, it would’ve seemed like Odin was evil incarnate.

You could not believe your own eyes. There was a turned glass on the coffee table, water spilled all over it, the books you usually kept on it ruined for now; there were little pieces of fluff scattered on the floor that you were certain they were from Hobi’s sweater; Odin’s food bowl was turned over and there was kibble all around it. Had World War III happened at your place and no one let you know?

You gasped when you saw the true state of your friend’s sweater, the second leg of the bear was gone too, stuffing dripping everywhere. It was a massacre. As soon as they heard you, Odin dropped the bear’s leg and ran to you, putting his paws on your legs and stretching his back, tail wagging happily, telling you what a good job he did, while Hoseok stared at you with a look of guilt mixed with shock that you were back earlier than you said you would be. You leaned down to pet Odin’s head, but you maintained Hobi’s gaze and raised your eyebrows.

“What… What happened?” your voice could not hide your state of shock at the scene.

“Oh, its uh….” Hoseok trailed off looking around the room, trying to form an explanation in his head. “Y/N, I have to be honest with you, I think your dog is possessed…” he said in a low voice, almost a whisper. His eyes trained on Odin who was comfortably sitting on the floor, between your legs.

You looked down at the small Shih Tzu, the puppy looked like an angel, innocent eyes stared back at you with love. You tried to keep it in, but you burst out laughing at the ridiculous thought. You saw Hoseok grinning, he was still sitting on the armrest with half a bear hanging off of him.

“By the way Hobi, I’m so sorry that he did that to your sweater...” you start feeling a little guilty, that sweater was really cute and now it was ruined. But deep down you thought it wasn’t entirely the dog’s fault, after all, there was a cute bear dangling off Hoseok the entire time, of course it would strike a dog’s attention. “It must be pretty expensive, and I don’t know if I can afford to buy you a new one or even if it’s mendable at this point…” you rambled, nervously clenching your hands.

Hoseok looked at you with amusement in his eyes, clearly not mad about what your dog had done to him and his clothes.

“Well… you have to repay me for that expensive sweater, don’t you think?” he smirked, “So ...how about a date?"

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inscribeddiatribes · 4 years

Text

Peter Parker Fluff Alphabet

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Aged up Peter (18+)

Warnings: Mention of danger.

A/N: This is my fourth work for my first follower milestone/ birthday celebration! The template is by @wonderwxlls (I think they deactivated though). Hope you enjoy!

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A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Peter is the sappy type, so he’d definitely find your personality, laugh, and smile attractive. To him, seeing you happy just hits different.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

It’s kind of 50/50 with him. Peter loves children and is amazing with him, but he realizes that there’s a lot of danger associated with his lifestyle after seeing what happened with Tony and Morgan. At the beginning of his superhero career, he was adamant about keeping his title, but as the years pass by he starts to realize that he shouldn’t have to sacrifice his personal dreams for a risky (and thankless at times) job.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Peter can be very clingy. He’ll curl over you and hold you close. Cuddling with you under a blanket or two is one of Peter’s favorite ways to spend the day.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

He’s usually a man of routine when it comes to dates because he doesn’t have a lot of faith in his date planning skills. The options are usually a restaurant that him and May frequent, an ice cream shop, Delmar’s, or the park. However, he’s extremely charming and really tries to woo you.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are my glue. Peter’s the one with the webs, but to him it feels like you’re the glue that’s holding him to together.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

He knew he was in love with you when he revealed to you that he was Spider-Man after a mission and you cared about whether or not he was safe, rather than just behaving like a fan.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Peter’s extremely gentle most of the time because he realizes that he has super strength. However, he can sometimes get really excited and hug you a bit too hard. He’s always apologetic and sad after though.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He’ll gently grip your hand and will occasionally smile at you to show his appreciation.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He thought you were attractive, and after talking to you he realized that you had a good personality to match. Instant crush basically.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Peter doesn’t really get jealous, but he does get insecure. He believes that you can do a lot better than him, so you may need to occasionally reassure him that you want him, not the others.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You initiated it. Peter was dazed by it, but ended up kissing you back. Peter loves giving you kisses, but they’re usually little pecks because he’s too shy to ask for anything more.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Peter said it first. He’s very in tune with his emotions and is quick to express them, so he’d immediately want to let you know how he felt because he may not get another chance to.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

It was your second date and Peter decided to take you to buy ice cream. He was so nervous that he ended up almost stumbling into a tree. It had made you laugh so hard that you snorted. It’s somewhat embarrassing to both of you, but he loves it anyway because it involves making you happy.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Even after graduation and getting a job, Peter is kind of broke. So, he may save up to buy you something nice, but he tends to spoil you with affection and attention.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Blue. Peter finds your personality very refreshing and relaxing. He instantly thinks of you whenever the sky is clear.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Baby and Angel. Peter’s far too shy to call you any or them in public, but he almost never uses your real name when in private.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

A vintage train set that May had gifted him. While Peter isn’t necessarily interested in trains, it reminds him of his Uncle Ben’s train collections.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Peter will either watch movies, cuddle with you, or show you his current LEGO projects.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Going out to eat with you and May never fails to cheer him up. With you by his side and May cracking cringy jokes, it’s hard for him not to feel better.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Anything. Peter is extremely talkative and can nervously ramble at times. He can jump from talking about cartoons to the meaning of life in 0.5 seconds. Your conversations with him will always be interesting.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Movie nights with you. Peter loves watching “classic” movies, so he gets really excited when he gets to show you some of his favorites.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Peter tends to show off his intelligence. At times he may fear that you’ll think he’s too nerdy, but he believes that his intelligence is one of his best qualities.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Peter would definitely not propose until you were done with college. He knew that marriage would be extremely difficult to balance along with school. After you’ve both started to settle down, he’d seriously consider proposing.

Peter would probably take you to a private place to propose because he’d get nervous doing it in public. A heartfelt speech with plenty of tears before kneeling down to present you with his Aunt May’s ring (Like she gave him in Spider-Man 3).

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye

“Listen baby, ain't no mountain high. Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough baby. If you need me call me no matter where you are. No matter how far don't worry baby. Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry. You don't have to worry”

No matter what, Peter will always be there for you. His faithfulness and loyalty knows no bounds.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Peter has fantasized about a life with you since he first realized that he had a crush on you. He’d never bring it up in the beginning because he didn’t want to mess things up and the whole Spider-Man secret.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Peter would want a pet that would be able to keep up with him and play, so probably a dog.

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Masterlist

Check out my masterlist, you might find something you like! Reblogs are welcome! Follow for more :)

I don’t own these characters, songs, or lyrics, nor did I create any of them. This work is strictly for fair use/ entertainment purposes. No money has been received from this work.

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differenzeartistiche · 3 years

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It’s Gavin Creel’s birthday, so let’s bring back this ranking of all his performances that I’ve seen.

I’m adding A Tale of Two Cities since I last posted this two years ago.

Gavin Creel, 14 performances, ranked!

14. Nick Piazza in Fame

This show has some merits, although it’s definitely not one of my favorites. It’s Gavin’s professional debut and I can forgive him some naiveté in an otherwise competent, beautifully sung performance. His rendition of “I wanna make magic” is lovely.

13. Charles Darnay in A Tale of Two Cities

Ok, so this was a concert performance, so it’s not really fair to compare it to the others, but I’ll just throw it in here. Mainly because it’s such an unusual show for Gavin. It’s something that tries very hard to be on the level of Les Miserables, without much success, and Gavin is not a huge fan of that kind of show. That said, it’s a nicely sung performance of a classic romantic hero role. Nice, nothing more.

12. Jean-Michel in La Cage Aux Folles

Great show, poor but still competent production. The role’s literally the most boring in the whole play, but he gets to sing the cute “With Anne on my arm” and he nails it.

11. Hollis Bessemer in Bounce

Sadly a lesser show by Sondheim, I still love some aspects of it, and Gavin’s wide-eyed artistically-inclined dreamer is one of them. His big solo “Talent” is the best song of the show and touches me on a very personal level.

10. Matthews in Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Gavin voicing a Disney villain! A Disney villain with a secret! A Disney villain with a French accent! Talk about playing against type. There’s something of Kodaly here, and of Lumiere and of Pepé Le Pew. You can tell he had a blast recording this role, and the design is exquisite.

9. Bill in Eloise at the Plaza / Eloise at Christmastime

Effortlessly hilarious on screen as he is on stage, he goes full-on old-time Hollywood star in the Christmas-themed sequel and I love it. A mix of Dick Powell and Fred Astaire.

8. Dr. Pomatter in Waitress

Sara Bareilles’ little gem of a musical often finds its strength in the absolute realness of its characters, flawed human beings looking for a little sparkle of happiness. Drew Gehling’s Dr. Pomatter was awkward and fun and sad-eyed, but I think Gavin wins infusing the character with tenderness and truly lived-in melancholy. A few weeks in a well-worn musical could be seen as a footnote in a great career, but it’s such a lovely performance, enhanced by the incredible chemistry he has with Bareilles.

7. Bert in Mary Poppins

My introduction to Gavin and since then I’ve come to appreciate him as heir to impossibly gangly male leads like Dick Van Dyke, so this feels like such a natural fit. I find the show a little bloated, but watch him defying gravity in that one “walking on air” scene: it’s irresistible.

6. Ugly in Honk!

Having him play the ugly duckling ALSO feels like a natural fit. Gavin’s at his best when he plays lost and confused dreamers, and the fairytale touch with the surreal setting makes for a wonderful variation on that theme.

5. Steven Kodaly in She Loves Me

Easily the odd man out of the list. The evil, scheming, suave and self-centered Kodaly is a delightful departure from all the romantic leads and clueless buffoons of Gavin’s career. The showstopper “Ilona” brings out all the manipulative nature of the character, a snake that always finds a way out and always gets what he wants. A remarkable performance that makes me want to see him branch out into even more strange territories.

4. Jimmy Smith in Thoroughly Modern Millie

Again with the old-time charm and humor. Millie is a show dominated by women, and Gavin’s male romantic lead manages not to be swallowed whole by them by being so wonderfully easy-going, hilariously aloof and occasionally sassy. It does also help that in “What do I need with love” he has one of the catchiest numbers of the show.

3. Cornelius Hackl in Hello, Dolly!

PUDDING. That alone deserved the Tony. It’s an overwhelmingly funny turn that makes the best of the original, almost vaudevillian nature of the show. So full of tricks and ticks and winks to the audience, deliciously aware of its own absurdity, it’s the kind of scene-stealing performance that not every actor can pull off. And oh my god, has anyone ever sung Jerry Herman’s beautiful tunes so gorgeously? You almost wish he could have sung “Put on your Sunday clothes” in its entirety.

2. Elder Price in The Book of Mormon

Somewhere between the rubber-faced humor of Jim Carrey, the earnest straight man hilarity of Jack Lemmon and the physicality of Dick Van Dyke. A perfect combination that captures the sarcastic, yet disarmingly sweet nature of the show, with its hints of meanness and self-devouring doubt.

1. Claude Hooper Bukowski in Hair

Unquestionably the masterpiece of Gavin’s career. A towering performance that starts with the iconicity of the role and the visuals associated with it and finds the core of Claude’s humanity: a scared, earnest, sometimes self-centered, mostly clueless young man that has to face something so much bigger than himself, something that is so far from the made-up world of fake accents and films in space that he has created for himself and that will eventually consume him. Moments like “Where do I go” and “The Flesh Failures” are moving and brutally honest.

#gavin creel #Broadway #the book of mormon #hair #rapunzles tangled adventure

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taleofharrison · 4 years

Text

Stuck | Michael Clifford

Summary: The boys try to do something special for the reader’s birthday while on tour but it might take a quick turn into something more.

Warnings: No just the friends to lovers prompt and rusher!reader because I love BTR (me? including Big Time Rush in yet another one of my works? I bet no one saw it coming).

Requested: No

Word Count: Around 1500

A/N: IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY! so this kind of a request I did for myself, the original idea for this was to write 5sos x platonic!reader but it became friends to lovers with Michael. The BTR songs I mention can be found here, here, here, here and here

MASTERLIST HERE

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY” four voices exclaimed waking you up in a quite abruptly way making you forget you were in a bunk in a tour bus hitting yourself with the bunk above yours.

“Ouch sorry” Ashton said “anyways happy birthday to the best tour mom ever”

“Yeah and don’t tell my mom Ash said that” Luke chirped in making you smile.

Even though every time your four best friends had to go on tour begged you to come with them sometimes it just wasn’t possible for you but this time you managed to make time for this tour and whenever it was possible for you to join them you looked after them, stopping them from getting too drunk after a show in case they had to do interviews or something important the next morning or making sure their show outfits were ready before or during soundcheck. You loved and cared for them and they loved and cared for you it was the most beautiful friendship you could ever have.

“Thanks guys” you smiled again with a sleepy voice “how come you woke up before I did?”

“Well we wanted to do something special and surprise you” Michael explained “we can stop near a bakery and buy you a proper cake but for now you’ll have to settle for the last package of Oreo we have”

Calum handed you the package it had a piece of paper pasted to the envelope it said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” with markers of different colors and their signatures it was the sweetest thing they could’ve done for you.

“You don’t have to buy me anything seriously this is enough” you replied opening the package.

“But we want to” Michael spoke again “You do so much for us”

For a second you lost yourself in his eyes, you had fallen for one of your best friends and after months of denial, thinking it was a stupid crush and it would fade, two weeks ago you finally admitted that you had fallen for him and how could you not? He was sweet and dorky and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Uh you know what I’m going to get ready for today” you put your Oreos on your bunk “you can eat some if you want”

You left them and went to the back of the bus you closed the door the sound of Big Time Rush began to come from where you were now. Michael smiled of course you were listening to BTR when getting ready he thought it was sweet.

“I think the best birthday present you could give to her is telling her how you feel” Ashton suggested taking a cookie and putting it in his mouth.

“I-what?” Michael gasped “how do you guys know?”

“Mate you’re not very good at hiding your feelings we all noticed” Calum chuckled “don’t worry she’s just as oblivious as you are”

“Can you guys speak lower?” Michael whispered “I can’t have her hearing this”

“She has Big Time Rush sounding as loud as possible from the bluetooth speakers” Ashton laughed “she must be too busy enjoying herself dancing like crazy right now. She’s not going to listen to any of this”

Michael nodded he had a point the song playing was If I Ruled The World and it was your favorite BTR song and by now they had it memorized too “Do you really think I should do something about it?”

“Yep” Luke quickly answered “I can’t stand another conversation with her and about you”

“She told you?” Michael questioned again eyes wide open.

“Dude you know we are close” Luke shrugged “remember that I introduce you guys to her. Of course, she told me!”

Luke was the only one who knew about your crush on him you begged him not to tell the other boys but of course they found out by themselves and nobody had to tell them everybody around you knew but Michael. Maybe they were right it was time to do something about it.

“I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while now” Michael said “maybe we could add a song to the setlist tonight just for her birthday”

They didn’t allow you in the soundcheck which was weird they always wanted you there to be their number one during every rehearsal you immediately brushed it off “Maybe they are planning something silly for my birthday” you thought and kept playing with your phone and listening to music in the tour bus.

By the time of the concert the boys surprised with a cake singing happy birthday to you as funny and as out of tune as they possibly could making you laugh and smile.

“We told you we’d get you a proper cake” Michael smiled “now blow your candles and make a wish”

“Thank you, guys, so much” you said before blowing the candles.

“What did you wish for?” Michael asked.

“Not telling” you smirked “not going to come true if I tell”

“Well let’s eat some cake we have to get to the stage in around half an hour” Luke said.

After your small, improvised party the guys rushed to the stage you of course stood by the side of the stage watching your best friends having the time of their life.

“Cause I’m really not fine at all” they finished amnesia it was followed by the deafening sound of the fans screaming.

“Hey guys” Michael spoke “so tonight it’s a pretty special night because Y/N’s here and it’s her birthday today” and the fans screamed even more. They loved you and even considered you the fifth member of the band because of how pretty your friendship with the boys was.

“She’s a big fan of a band called Big Time Rush and she’s been begging us to do a BTR cover for a long time now” you rolled your eyes at Mike’s comment you weren’t begging you just told them it’d be pretty cool if they did just one song “and since today’s her birthday we are going to surprise her by finally singing one of their songs”

That’s why you weren’t allowed in the soundcheck “Put your lights in the air and please sing this if you know it this is Stuck”

“But I just keep getting…” Mike sang looking at you.

“Stuck, stuck” the boys joined him with harmonies his eyes never leaving yours.

“But I’m never giving…” Michael face went back to the crowd this was the first time in the whole song that he took his eyes off you.

“Up, up” the boys joined him again for the last part of the song “Thank you guys!”

Again, the fans were screaming a lot of them may not know the song, but the song was basically a Michael solo with beautiful harmonies, and it was something they couldn’t experience live every day.

“The next song it’s from our new album CALM” Luke said to the microphone as Michael changed guitars and the iconic sound of Easier filled up the place.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked Michael he was sitting on one of the sofas at the back of the tour bus.

“What are you doing up?” he questioned.

“I can’t sleep either” you sat next to him “great show tonight by the way I really enjoyed the cover section today…thank you”

“Well the four of us wanted to do something special for you…”

“I knew it was your idea” you interrupted him “I could tell it was your idea. It just screamed Michael to me”

“Yes, it was my idea” he said smiling at you “it was nothing I know how much you love those guys I just had to do it and I know someday they’ll get back together and we will collab with them and you can finally meet them then”

“What choice of song” you changed the subject “when I ‘begged’ you to cover a song I told you guys would do a great version of Shot In The Dark or Til’ I Forget About You not Stuck”

“I know that Stuck is one of your favorite songs and I know that you think it’s underrated because a big part of the fandom only recognize Boyfriend as a love song” he explained finally looking at you, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes shine in the darkness “I know because I listen to you complain about it and this song had a message I really wanted to give to you that’s why I chose it”

“Michael, do you really feel that way about me?” you asked looking down.

“Yeah I do for quite a while now” he answered with a breathless laugh “and I-I think you feel the same?”

“Did Luke tell you?”

“No, he didn’t” he said “actually Ashton told me to do something about it”

“Ashton knows!?” you screamed whispered.

“Apparently everyone knows” he chuckled “but us”

You thought you had been careful and not too obvious about it and of course Luke hadn’t told, you could trust him with your life.

“Can I kiss you?” Michael questioned after a moment of silence.

You just nodded and when his lips touched yours it felt like a thousands fireworks in your stomach it was magical, it was perfect and even though you birthday ended about 3 hours ago it was the best present ever.

“Sorry it took so long” Michael breathlessly said once you pulled apart.

“It was worth it” you smiled leaning to kiss him again.

Guess your wish came true