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fangirlovestuff · 3 years ago

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Never Too Late - Chris Evans x reader

a/n- hey lovely people!! i hope you’re all doing well:) i’ve been working on this one for a while, and i’m super excited to finally share it! because it’s Chris’ birthday, i wanted to have some fun with this, so in the story, chris says 3 things that are quotes / paraphrases of some of his characters’ quotes (like 3 things his characters said in movies lol). see if you can find all 3 of them;) enjoy<3

Summary: Romance is an illusion. Unattainable. Absolutely unrealistic. No one can have a fairytale love story. But maybe, you don't need a fairytale. You just need each other. (In which you and Chris have each given up on romance, but then you meet, and… sparks fly.)

Word Count: 9.6k (hello longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!)

Warnings: some curse words, (responsible) alcohol consumption, slight angst?? honestly it’s just obliviousness, slow burn!!!

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

This was a waste of time.

I'm sorry, the text read, something came up. Raincheck? ;)

Douche. He was the one that asked if you could do this today instead of tomorrow, so you moved your meeting. But apparently, that didn't matter, since he wasn't planning to show up anyway.

You blocked his number, leaving your place at the bar and heading towards the exit. You were in the middle of typing out a furious message to your friend who set you up on this blind date, when you collided with someone in your path quite harshly. You rubbed your arm where you bumped into the person and gazed upwards to meet his eyes.

"Sorry," you both said in unison.

The man let out a chuckle. "Sorry," he repeated, his amused eyes gazing into yours.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," you said, "I wasn't looking where I was going," you lifted up your phone, gesturing to the reason.

"I'm sure it was important," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "don't worry about it."

"It really wasn't. Again, sorry," you grimaced.

"It's fine," he reassured you, "I was actually on my way to get another drink so it's not like I spilled anything, no harm done," he smiled.

"Well, I'm really glad. Have a good rest of your night," you smiled back. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned to continue your walk towards the exit, opening your texts to write that message to your friend, but as you were turning around the man reached out and grabbed onto your wrist, not harshly but enough to make you turn around to face him once more.

He immediately let go of your hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just… you seemed kind of upset when I bumped into you, are you alright?"

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "I'm fine," you looked up at him, "just got ditched by this blind date. Guy didn't show, so I was writing a furious message to my friend who set me up," you chuckled, "that's why I wasn't paying attention."

"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic grimace. "So why were you writing to your friend and not to the guy? I mean, he's the one who bailed."

"No offense, but I learned not to expect as much from the male species," you smirked, and he chuckled in return. "Got bailed on one too many times to have high expectations. Honestly, I was only willing to go on this date cause my friend said this was a great guy and, according to her, I was 'on the sure road to becoming a spinster'. So, I appeased her," you shrugged. Your confession left your lips with such ease, you were almost taken aback by how easy it was to talk to this complete stranger this openly. Maybe, it was easier because you were strangers.

"Ah, I know what that's like. I mean, not the spinster part, the part about appeasing your friends," he chuckled. "They're over there," he gestured to a table a little to the back, "to 'cheer me up'. Said I needed to leave my house more. Although I don't know if they're still sober enough to remember that's why they're here," he smiled affectionately as he looked at his table. Sure enough, the guys looked pretty drunk, but the man didn't seem to resent them for it, he was just amused.

"What did you need cheering up for?" you asked once his gaze went back to meet yours.

"Well, I got dumped. We were together for a few years. I even had a ring," he raised his eyebrows, "but she said it wasn't working out anymore. At least she didn't know about the ring yet," he smiled bitterly.

"Small victories," you nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "anyway, she just finished taking the last of her stuff from ou- my place. She was really lingering with it, we broke up like a month ago. Didn't have the heart to rush her."

"I'm sorry," you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. He seemed to appreciate it anyway. "Your sob story's way worse than mine," you joked, getting a small huff of laughter out of him.

"I guess," he said. "But that means I get where you're coming from on the whole no dating thing. It just seems pointless," he shrugged.

"I'm sure this is the part where anyone else would've told you that it'll be okay and you'll find 'your person', but since I'm shittier than that I'll be honest – romance is dead and we'll both probably die alone," you said flatly.

Your blunt tone made him smile, which in turn made you smile, and you nodded as your words sank into the silence between you. You started giggling, and soon he followed, and you were both laughing softly for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning, "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's sad."

"Very sad," you agreed, a grin on your face as well. "to be fair, spinsterhood doesn't sound that bad. Except for the cats thing. I'll never be a crazy cat lady," you shook your head, "they hate me, every single one. I'd get dogs though," you mused, "have a little army of 'em."

"Sounds fun," he smiled.

"Right?" you smiled back, "I'm telling you, it's not as bad as people make it out to be."

Wrapped up in your conversation, you were both still standing next to the bar, and another man pushed past you to get to the bartender. The bubble around the two of you exploded, and you remembered that you were still in public, at the bar.

"You should go get that drink you were here for," you said, gesturing towards the bar.

"Alright," he chuckled. Just then, the man finished ordering, so he told the bartender what he'd like to have, then turned to you.

"Hey, romance might be dead, but chivalry isn't. Let me buy you a drink," he grinned.

"Be still my beating heart," you feigned emotion, before a smile crept back onto your face. "I'll have whatever you're having," you shrugged, and waited as he told the bartender to bring you two another drink.

"So, if you're buying me a drink, I feel like it's only fair I should know your name," you smiled.

"That does seem fair," he sent a small smile your way. "I'm Chris," he put out his hand and you shook it, telling him your name in return.

"So, you come here often?" he smirked, prompting the both of you into another fit of laughter.

"For real though," you said once you got your drinks, "I'm really not looking for anything romantic right now. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," he reassured, "I'm not either."

"Okay good cause this is like, really tasty, so I wouldn't mind having a couple more," you held up the drink he got you with a grin, making him laugh.

You did have a couple more, with Chris. You ended up sitting at the bar, his friends not really noticing he was gone, and talking about anything and everything. You were almost reluctant to end the night, but you really should get home, which is what you told Chris before getting up and getting your wallet.

"Hey, no," he said and gestured for you to put it away, "I was serious, I'll pay."

"Really? I mean, this wasn't a date so I just thought-"

He shook his head adamantly and you put your hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Thank you," you told him as you put your wallet away.

"You're very welcome. Although, there is something I still want to ask you. Can I get your number?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could he spoke up again.

"Nothing romantic, I swear," he chuckled, "but it was really fun hanging out tonight. We should do it again. Completely platonically." He smiled sincerely.

You narrowed your eyes in mock suspicion before laughing. "Alright. Sure, you can have my number," you said, and he grinned before giving you his phone. You put in your number and gave it back.

"See you around, Chris," you smiled before leaving the bar, the smile lingering on your face all the way back to your house.

And when your friends asked you how the date was, you told them he bailed and you went home, never mentioning meeting Chris. You knew how they'd see it, and it wasn't like that, so you just… kept it to yourself. For now.

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

On your way to Chris' house, you picked up the takeout from the place he told you about, before texting him you got it and you were almost there.

It's been a couple of weeks since you met him, and so far he was proving to be a great friend. You texted back and forth most days, but never found the time to meet up again, until today, that is.

You had texted him about your crappy day at work, and how happy you were this week was finally, finally over, so he invited you t his house, and suggested you watch a movie. And well, you accepted. A movie night with a friend was just what you needed to put this shitty week behind you.

"Hi," you greeted him once he opened the door.

"Hi!" he took the takeout bags from your hands and gestured for you to follow him inside, and into the kitchen. "So," he started, while taking out the food, "I realized forgot to tell you; I have a dog," he smiled apologetically, "I don't know if that's a problem, he's in my room upstairs, I won't-"

"Are you kidding?" you nearly squealed, "of course that's not a problem! I told you if I could I'd be a crazy dog lady," you giggled. "Can I meet him?"

"Great!" he chuckled at your enthusiasm, "sure, I'll go get him."

As he went upstairs, you stood there, looking around his kitchen. You weren't sure what to do, it seemed like he got all the food, and it wasn't your house, so… you just stood there.

Fortunately, you soon heard the patter of footsteps, and just as you were about to call out to Chris to ask him if there was anything you could do to help, you heard him yell out.

"Dodger!"

And just then, a big whirl of movement came towards you, and before you knew it a large dog was resting his paws on you, nearly knocking you back. You regained your footing before you crouched down to your knees with a beam.

"Hey," you cooed at the excited dog, who was wagging his tail and still trying to climb onto you, apparently. "Hey," you repeated yourself, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. "It's so nice to meet you," you kept cooing and stroking his fur. He propped himself up and licked your cheek, making you giggle. "Thank you, you're so cute," you scratched his neck affectionately.

"Sorry about him, he gets excited around new people," Chris came into the kitchen apologizing.

"No worries," you grinned as the large dog laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to you in a silent request for belly rubs which you willingly provided. "He's adorable," you looked up at Chris, who was grinning back at you.

"He really is," he agreed, going to finish putting the food in plates before lifting them.

"Can I help with anything?" you asked, still crouched down and petting Dodger.

"Nope, all set," he smiled, "let's go."

He led the way to his living room, where he set the plates down on the coffee table and picked up the remote. "So, what do you wanna watch?"

"Oh, I don't know," you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, "you can pick."

"Well, I would, but we're here because you've had a shitty week, so you should pick whatever you want."

"Ugh, don't remind me. See, Dodger would never do this to me," you turned your gaze to the dog, who has settled at your feet, and started petting him again. "Right? Of course you won't, you're the cutest dog," you cooed.

Chris burst out into a short laugh. "Are you going to steal my dog?"

"It's a very real possibility," you said dryly, shrugging. You turned your gaze to him, your hand still petting Dodger, and smirked.

"Okay, so are you gonna pick a movie now that we've settled that?" he asked, smiling.

"I don't know what to pick," you admitted, "I don't wanna put on anything you don't like, I guess," you mumbled.

"Awwwww, it's fine," he assured with an easy smile, "pick whatever."

You caved and put on a movie you really liked – The Princess Bride. As he realized what movie you were putting on, Chris chuckled.

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"See? I told you I'd put on something you wouldn't like. Forget it, we can just-"

"No, no!" he cut you off, "I really like this movie," he grinned, "I just wouldn't expect that from someone who claims romance is dead, that's all," he chuckled.

"Well, movies have… dragons in them. Do you think dragons are real just cause they're in movies?" you reasoned.

"Okay, I see your point," he raised his hands in mock surrender.

A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you from that point, the only thing filling it was the sound of the movie playing and the occasional shuffling sound when either of you, or Dodger, shifted on the couch.

A bit later, Chris spoke up. "Hey, want a beer?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't have any. Driving myself home and all," you shrugged.

"Yeah, that's smart," he chuckled. You were both lowering your voices, as if not to disrupt the movie which was still playing. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all," you answered truthfully, "It's your house."

He let out another short chuckle, nodding before getting up. When he heard Chris getting up, Dodger lifted his head from where he was laying, and swiftly followed him into the kitchen.

When they returned, Chris brought you a glass of water, and gave it to you before sitting down. Dodger jumped back up onto the sofa, curling up beside Chris, laying his head on his stretched-out legs.

"Awwww," you softly smiled, "that's adorable. He really loves you."

"Not nearly as much as I love him," Chris replied, smiling and fondly rubbing Dodger's head.

"See, that's good love. Love that lasts," you remarked. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned your head back to the movie.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Huh?" you turned your head back to Chris.

"What did you mean by that?" he repeated.

"Oh, nothing," you shook your head. "Just, you know. I know I seem very opposed to romance, but I'm not against love. I love my family," you shrugged, "because they made me the person I am today. They're a part of me. I just don't think that a love between two people who aren't family can last in the same way."

"Yeah. You're probably right. What about dogs though? They're certainly not blood related to us," he joked.

"Certainly," you laughed, "But dogs aren’t as fucked up as humans, so it's not really comparable. Dogs don’t stay up thinking about something embarrassing they did five years ago. Dogs probably don't even get embarrassed, really. They don't have as many doubts and… restrictions. Barriers. They don't have to make everything complicated."

"But humans do."

"Bingo," you chuckled dryly.

"We really do, don't we?" he sighed. "No one really knows what they're doing or who they are. How can you know someone else enough to truly love them when you don't even know yourself?"

"Exactly. You get it," you toasted your glass of water against his beer bottle. "it's too much effort for something that lasts so little."

"Not necessarily little," he suggested, "but never enough. You know, in movies, love is this big force of nature that draws two people towards each other so strongly… it's undeniable, unavoidable. Meant to be," he chuckled. "That feels so far away from anything I've ever experienced."

"Me too, if that's any comfort," you grimaced sympathetically. "Maybe we're just meant to be alone."

"Maybe. Anyway, that's grim," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," you smiled. "Every time I talk about it with my friends, I get told I just haven't found the right person yet, and to keep on hoping and everything will magically be sunshine and rainbows," you fluttered your eyelashes cynically. "It's fun to know there's at least one more realistic person out there," you sent him a small smile, which he returned.

You both turned back to watch the movie, which was heading towards the end at this point. The handsome prince saves the brave princess. He's not really a prince, but, you know. Same difference; it's a fairytale, a legend.

Something no one can ever truly have.

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

Chris and you had developed a habit of calling each other on Mondays, since they were the worst, and you both needed to vent. You were in the middle of one of those calls when something he said made you abruptly stop making your dinner.

"How come I didn't know it was your birthday?" you asked, surprised, at his admission that his birthday was yesterday.

"It never came up," he said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The party's on Friday anyways, if you wanna come. You can bring some friends too, if you want. There's plenty of space."

"Yeah, okay," you smiled to yourself, "sure. Happy belated birthday, Chris."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "So you'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, I guess," you sighed dramatically, prompting him to laugh.

"Great! See ya Friday," he said.

"See you."

After you hung up the call, you returned to your dinner, but not before texting your friends to invite them along. If you were getting on so nicely with Chris, you assumed the rest of his friends were nice people, so would in turn get along with your friends. Who were also nice people, obviously.

Or maybe, not so obviously.

There was an immediate flood of messages asking about who Chris is and how you met and if he's cute.

You ignored them in favor of finishing making your dinner, and only then sat down with your food and answered their questions, except for that last one.

He's a friend of mine I met not long ago, nice guy, you replied to the group chat.

And?? one of your friends texted.

And he invited me to this party he's throwing for his birthday, and told me I could bring friends, so now I'm inviting you guys. Hopefully, I won't regret that.

But is he cute???

I don't know, and I don't care. You know I'm not looking for anything right now!!

You're no fun. Fine, we'll come and see for ourselves ;P

You scoffed to yourself and continued to eat your dinner, unbothered. Maybe they should come, you mused, just to see that it's possible to make friends without dating them, like a sane adult.

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

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed as Chris ushered you and your friends into his house. "I brought you a wine," you extended the bottle and he took it.

"Thank you!" he said loudly, to overpower the music that was playing. "Is it good?"

"How should I know? I didn't drink from it, it's your gift!" you joked. He laughed before giving you a one-armed hug and waving at your friends. "I'm gonna put this away," he pointed towards the kitchen, "But you should go to the living room, everyone's there."

You gave him a thumbs up and led your friends towards the living room.

"He even laughs at your bad jokes," your friend cooed in your ear, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.

"We're not a couple!" you reminded her.

"Maybe not yet, but I'm just saying you'd make a good one," she shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

You ignored her, and continued walking. On your way to the living room, you did see a whole bunch of other people, but still, the party wasn't huge, especially compared to Chris' large house. There were no more than probably about 80 people there, not including yourself and your friends.

Pouring yourself a drink, you sat down next to your friends, who were already making small talk with another group, and joined the conversation.

Some time went by before the conversation turned to romance, and everyone started sharing funny stories about their significant others.

"What about you?" asked a woman from the other group. She seemed friendly, an easygoing smile on her face. "Everyone has a story to tell."

Before you could answer, one of your friends chimed in. "Oh, she doesn't do romance," she teased.

"Sounds mysterious," the woman laughed.

"Yep," you smiled, amused, "that's me. Dark, brooding, and mysterious."

As you were all laughing, Chris came down to sit next to you. "Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile, a model host.

"Yeah," one of your friends answered, "we were just talking about how this one never dates anymore," she pointed at you, and you caught Chris' look, amused. "What do you think about that?" your friends asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.

"I think she should do whatever she wants to," he answered with a smile.

"Oh, don’t be diplomatic," she said, "don't you think she should find someone?" she pressed.

"I think she should do whatever she feels like," he persisted.

"Whatever," your friend rolled her eyes with a smile. "Every pot has a lid. Sooner or later, you'll find yours," she said, your words pointed at you now.

You were quiet for a brief moment before speaking up. "Oh, you're done talking about me like I'm not here. Sorry, you were saying?"

The entire group burst into laughter, and you caught Chris' gaze again.

Sorry, you mouthed, shrugging.

It's fine, he mouthed back with a small smile.

The urge to kill your friend subsided when you saw Chris didn't take her pestering too seriously.

For the rest of the night, you proceeded to have a good time, making conversation with a few other people and only running into Chris one more time.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, toasting his cup to yours.

"Yeah. You throw a great party," you smiled.

"I'm glad you think that," he returned your smile.

After that you returned to your friends, and a little while later you all decided to head home. You searched for Chris, thanked him for hosting the party and wished him a happy birthday, and went home.

"You're telling me there's nothing there?" your friend asked you on the ride home.

"There's nothing there," you sighed. "I don't know why you all want there to be."

"We just know what it's like being in love. And we want that for you. It's fun," she smiled.

"Parkour also sounds fun, that doesn't mean I can or am going to do it," you retorted. "You know what I think about being in love. Different people have different paths and abilities. I can be happy without a sweeping romance."

"I know, you're a strong independent woman and you don’t need no man," she rolled her eyes. "Just… don't close yourself off to the opportunity. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay," you shrugged.

Shortly after, she dropped you off, and you went to sleep, thinking nothing of the whole ordeal.

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

She came by today.

When you got the text from Chris on Wednesday, you were puzzled for a few moments before you realized. His former fiancée. I mean, almost fiancée.

Shit

Is everything okay?

It only took him a couple of seconds to reply.

Yeah, I guess.

On an obviously unrelated note, wanna come drink?

You chuckled before texting him your ETA, quickly changing from the already rumpled clothes you had worn all day, and driving to his place.

You texted him when you were outside, and when you walked up to his door it was already opened, and he was waiting for you, a bottle of beer in hand.

"Aw, you drove yourself here?" he asked, before ushering you in, "I told you we should drink."

"Yeah," you chuckled, "but it's not like there's anyone I can ask to drive me on a random Wednesday. It's fine, you drink."

"But I don't wanna drink alone," he whined. "Can't you just spend the night then? I have a guest bedroom."

You opened your mouth to refuse, but then assessed it again. You were in pretty comfortable clothes, you were starting work a little later than usual tomorrow, and well… he needed a friend, and he asked you.

"Okay, fine," you chuckled, "gimmie one of those," you gestured at his beer.

He made a little celebratory motion with his hand before going and getting you another beer.

"So," you started as you took a swig of your beer, "how was your day?"

He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Great. Yeah, just… just great," he took a large gulp of his beer. You waited, giving him the space he needed to speak again. "She wanted to get back together, actually," he scoffed. You frowned, but still refrained from speaking.

"You know, I… I still have the ring," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I still have the ring because I wanted her to come back. But when she finally did I… I couldn't say yes to her. Because it's forever or nothing. And I don't think I'm meant to have a forever. Certainly not with someone who broke up with me anyways," he took another sip of his beer.

"If it's any comfort, I don't think there's such a thing as forever," you shrugged, and he looked at you quizzically. "I told you," you said, "all romance is momentary."

"Maybe that's true," he sighed again. "At any rate, I am now stuck with this ring, which is just… fantastic. Really awesome."

"Can't you bring it back to the shop?"

"Tried to. They won't take it back, say it's been too long for their return policy. That money's lost," he took another sip of beer.

"Well, you know, if it's lost anyways…" you smiled, "I think I have an idea of what to do with it. but first," you raised your beer in a toast, "we do need to be a little drunker for this."

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

A few too many drinks later, you and Chris were stumbling in a park near his home.

"How do you know where we are?" he asked, before nearly tripping on his face, making you giggle as he managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.

"I've been here before," you explained, a little less drunk than he was but still positively buzzed. "It's really pretty."

"It is," he agreed, taking in the trees around you as you kept going. "It's also very isolated. Are you going to kill me?" he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"No," your loud laugh rang through the park, breaking the silence of the night. "I'm not gonna kill you. Promise. Now c'mon, we're nearly there!" you beckoned him to follow you as you ran forward.

The rest of the way went by quickly, the both of you striding hurriedly, or as hurriedly as your inebriated minds would allow, engulfed in the comforting silence of the night. Finally, you got to a clearing with a large lake.

The crescent moon reflected in the water, and the lake was shimmering slightly as the wind disturbed it. The only sounds were those of your slightly labored breath, the soft trickling of the water, and the occasional flap of a bird's wings. The silence surrounded you, but it wasn't suffocating, it was as clear as the water in front of you.

It was finally broken when Chris spoke up again.

"You got me drunk so you could drown me in a lake?"

You burst into another fit of laughter. "First of all," you said in between giggles, "if anyone got anyone drunk it's you convincing me to drun- drink."

It was his turn to laugh at your mix-up. "Shut up," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now c'mon. You have the ring, right?"

"Yep," he said, fishing it out of his pocket. "But why did you want me to bring it?"

"Well, the fact I'm not gonna drown you in the lake doesn't mean we're not drowning anything."

"My ex-fiancée?" his mouth dropped open into an o shape.

"No!" you facepalmed. "The ring. You're gonna throw the ring in the river!"

"I am?"

"God, I'm starting to think I got you too drunk," you rolled your eyes. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna think about your relationship. You're gonna reminisce about everything, good and bad, and you're gonna put it in this ring. In your head, of course," you added before he could chime in.

"So I can let go," he nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," you smiled. "We don't need romance. Fuck romance. Fuck forever. You're better than that!"

"Amen!" he said, toasting an invisible glass in the air, making you laugh once more. It was probably the alcohol, but you hadn't laughed like this in a while. It was fun to laugh loudly, freeing. You wondered why you didn't do it more often.

"Alright!" you clapped your hands once, shaking from your thoughts. "Let's get this show on the road!"

You both stepped closer to the lake, and then Chris held out his hand in front of him, his palm open with the ring on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then his gaze snapped up to meet yours and he nodded shortly. You didn't speak, you just reached out and closed his fingers around the ring, before stepping aside and gesturing for him to go ahead. He stared at his fist for another moment before taking a swing and throwing the ring as far as he could. You held your breath until you heard the sound of the ring hitting the water, which made you release a breath full of awe.

"You did it," you said softly.

"I did it," he slowly repeated. "I did it!" he yelled out and you laughed in surprise. "I did it!" he yelled again, and in a few short strides he was next to you, picking you up and spinning you around in celebration.

"Put me down!" you shouted at him between fits of laughter, "Lunatic!"

He put you down, grinning widely. "I can't believe I just threw that ring into the lake. That was so stupid."

"It kinda was," you laughed, breathless.

"It was your idea!"

"I know! It's still stupid," you kept laughing, nearly doubling over. "Felt good though, didn’t it?"

"It really did," he let out a bewildered laugh. "Fuck. It really did," he said, and started laughing, which made you start laughing again, and before you knew it you were both laying on the grass, laughing until your cheeks hurt.

"My cheeks hurt," you pouted.

"Awww, I'm sorry," he drawled, reaching out to pinch your cheek, making you swat his hand away, glaring at him. He just giggled again, laying on his back and looking up to the sky.

You laid back as well, staring up.

"I wish I knew something about the stars," he said out of the blue.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Oh, just anything. I don't know jack shit about 'em."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's Orion's Belt," you said, pointing up to a group of three stars. "So now you know that about the stars."

He said your name, making you turn your head to look at him. "You're a good friend," he smiled.

"You're a good friend too," you smiled back at him.

"No, I'm not. All I ever do is moan about my stupid ex."

"I'm sure she wasn't stupid," you reasoned.

"She was! She was stupid with two o's," he mumbled in disdain. You giggled at his words. "I'm not hung up on her," he continued. "I'm just… disillusioned. I thought she was the one. And now that she's gone… I don't know if there's gonna be a one. Which is sad. So I've been sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I was sad too when I started thinking that," you whispered, sobering up a little. "But we don’t need 'a one', Chris. Romance is dead, but life goes on. We're on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."

"I spent so much of my life looking forward to spending the rest of my life with someone. And now that I realize that might not be the case… I guess I just realized that this is it. The rest of my life. I needed to throw that ring to make peace with that."

"Glad I could help," you gave him a half-smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze.

"Yeah," he returned a squeeze of his own, "me too."

"C'mon," you said, leaving his hand and getting up, before helping him to his feet as well. "We should get going."

You stumbled your way home, leaning on each other for some parts of the way. Sleepy and still a little buzzed, you finally got to his house, and he led you to the guest bedroom.

"Goodnight," he said, smiling.

"Goodnight," you whispered back, before he turned and walked up the stairs. You listened to him climb, and heard the sound of another set of footsteps, soft cooing coming from upstairs, and then heard the sound of a door closing.

Dodger, you thought with a smile, before closing your own door and plopping down on the bed.

In the last minutes of your wakefulness, you thought about how lucky dogs were.

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

"So, are you dating him?"

"No!" you said indignantly, "have you listened to a single word I said?"

"Oh, so you're just not putting a label on it? you're a little too old for those games if you ask me, but suit yourself," your friend shrugged.

"Come on! He's just a friend," you huffed.

"If that's what you wanna tell yourself," she smirked, but then her look became more sincere. "Look, I know you. I know that every time we talk about him, you're happy. Why can't you admit that you like him?"

"I do like him, as a person! I like all of my friends!"

"You're impossible," she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile.

"You're impossible," you retorted weakly before smiling at her.

"You know we all just want you to be happy, right? That's all we want."

"I know," you said softly, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I am happy, on my own."

"If that's the case, then I'm happy for you," she sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a third wheel, especially with Sarah's wedding coming up. You're the last of us who hasn't tied the knot yet."

"I'll be fine at Sarah's wedding," you rolled your eyes.

"I know, I know," she raised her hands in surrender, "But I'm just saying, I know you're anti-romance, but I also know you're not anti-company. Maybe you should bring Chris. As your friend, if you insist" she added when she saw you open your mouth to object. "Just, you know, everyone's coming with someone, and I don't want you to sit alone."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but seriously, I think you're underestimating my social skills. You do realize I can talk to people I don't know, right?"

"I know," she huffed. "Just… consider it, okay? For me?"

"I'll think about it, I guess," you shrugged.

You had no intention of following through on that. Except, well, it did come up when you were talking to Chris.

"What are you doing Friday?" he asked, his voice mechanical through the phone. "I thought we could finally see that movie you're always talking about."

"Nope, can't do Friday," you said, the phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you were folding your laundry.

"Aw, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to you finally shutting up about it," he teased, making you chuckle. "What're you doing Friday then?"

"First of all, if you'd listen to me and see it, you wouldn't wanna shut up about it either, because it's awesome. Second, I'm going to a friend's wedding. I'm gonna sit aside, drink some wine, and make fun of all the drunk couples."

"Sounds like a real fun night," he teased.

"Yeah," you said sarcastically. "I am really happy for her though. I know she wanted it for a long time," you said, sincere now.

"Hey, um, if you want, maybe I could come laugh at drunk couples with you? So you'll have some company," he offered.

"Oh, you don't have to," you dismissed it, "I know it sounds like a bummer, but really, I'll be fine."

"No, really. No one should have to sit alone at weddings," he said.

"Another friend of mine told me that as well."

"Well then, this friend of yours is smart. Believe me, as a veteran of many sit-alone weddings myself, I can confirm it's indeed a huge bummer."

"Fine," you chuckled, "I guess if you want to come so badly you may," you said, making him laugh.

"Great, text me the details?"

"Yep," you smiled. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure, bye!"

You hung up the phone to get up and start putting all your clothes into the closet. After you were done with that, you sent Sarah a text to let her know you will be bringing a plus one at the end, asking her if that'd be okay.

Is it Chris????

Yeah

Then it's fine!! :)))

You chuckled to yourself and kept putting away your clothes.

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

The night of the wedding, as a close friend of the bride's, you arrived at the venue a couple of hours beforehand, along with all of your friends. Chris came some time after guests started to arrive, and it didn't take you long to spot him in the crowds, looking a bit lost. You excused yourself quickly from the conversation you were in with some of the groom's friends and went to greet him.

"Hey!" you waved as you walked towards him, "Chris!"

Grinning when he saw you, he also began moving towards you, until you finally met in the middle.

"I'm glad you could make it," you smiled.

"I am too," he said, "seems like a nice wedding."

"Yeah. C'mon, you're just in time. They're gonna start the ceremony soon," you explained as you grabbed his arm and started leading him towards your seats.

"Oh-kay," he chuckled as you dragged him forward with surprising determination.

As you took your seats, you waved at your friends, and they freaked out over Chris being there, but you paid no mind to them, as Chris was leaning towards you, whispering, "You know, for someone who doesn't seem to enjoy romance, you sure do seem excited about this wedding."

"Well, I'm happy for Sarah. I've learned that me and my friends have a different outlook on that, and that's fine, it's useless to argue about it or whatever. I'm just happy she's gonna have what she wanted, even if I don't really believe in it."

"So how does that work? If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?"

"Chris, if one of my friends told me they found a way to adopt a unicorn, I'd be happy for them, no questions asked. Everyone should do what they feel like," you shrugged. "Now shhhh, they should be starting every minute now."

The ceremony was a beautiful one, and Sarah looked gorgeous in her white dress. As she walked down the aisle with a beaming smile, Chris' words echoed in your mind.

If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?

Despite your quick answer, you didn’t really know. The short answer was the one you told Chris, but the long one…

For the longest time, you believed romance just wasn't durable. Wasn't real. But maybe you just didn't believe that you can have that kind of romance? You just never really had someone to challenge your perception like that, because no one ever took it seriously, they just told you you'd find your person.

But that wasn't something you wanted to think about now, so you filled it away for later.

"It was a beautiful ceremony."

You and Chris were a little far out from the dancing crowd, somewhere a little quieter, but you could still see the dance floor from the bench you had found.

"Yeah, it was," you agreed with him.

"Not beautiful enough to make you cry, I guess?" he teased.

"Ha ha. I don't cry at weddings."

"I could've guessed that," he chuckled. "So what do you usually do at weddings? I mean, all your friends are married, so I'm assuming you've been to quite a few."

"What I'm doing right now. Sitting aside and drinking," you raised your glass in mock salute before taking a generous sip.

"Solid plan," he nodded slightly. "So you've never like, danced at weddings or anything?"

"No," you frowned, shaking your head slightly, "Why would I? I'm not a dancer, really.

"Well, how 'bout we go and change that?"

"Excuse me now?"

"I'm just saying, if you're really happy for your friend, maybe you should show her that. Enjoy yourself."

"I am enjoying myself," you deadpanned.

"Do what people are meant to do at weddings," he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were here to silently judge everyone with me. Don't make me regret inviting you," you jokingly waved your finger at him as if you were telling him off.

"That's still the plan. We could just probably still do that on the dance floor," he shrugged. "Your call."

There was a short-lived silence before you sighed. "Fine. One dance," you warned.

Getting up, he offered his arm to you, which you took, and you made your way o the dance floor. You started dancing to the end of the upbeat song that was playing, but just then it changed into something a little slower, and people were pairing up.

"This is the money time," Chris winked, and offered you his hand. You took it, almost instinctively, and you started dancing to the song, his other hand on your waist while yours was on his shoulder.

"What do you mean money time?" you whispered.

"Okay. We're gonna turn around, and you're gonna look at the couple that's gonna be behind me," he said, turning the both of you around casually as you danced.

"Oh my god," you suppressed your laughter. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Are they even a couple or is he her da- oh nope, he just kissed her on the lips. God," you grimaced as Chris laughed at your expression. "I at least hope he's rich for her sake."

You both chuckled, and it was only a couple of moments later that you gasped with a smile. "Don't be obvious cause they're pretty close, but look at the couple to my right."

"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Remind me not to go to any secluded corner of this wedding. These two are probably this close to running off to do things I definitely wouldn't wanna see."

"Right?" you said, amused, "They're practically eye fucking. Have some decency!"

You both laughed again, and then Chris nodded his head subtly in another direction. "Look at those two."

They were a couple that wasn't dancing, they were sitting at a table close to the dancefloor, their foreheads touching, seemingly murmuring to each other.

"Betcha they're the kind of couple who does the whole 'no you hang up!' thing," Chris continued with an amused grin.

"Oh they so are!" you burst into laughter. "They probably share a single spaghetti from both ends."

"Lady and the Tramp style," you both said at the same time, prompting you to tear your eyes from the couple and look at each other, giggling.

You continued dancing through the next song, and the next one, and the one after that. For pretty much the rest of the night, you two danced together, continuing to invent silly stories about the people you saw, laughing at each other's cheesy anecdotes.

When it was getting late and the party was winding down, Chris offered you a ride home, since he hasn't drunk, and you gratefully accepted. You came here with your friends, and they were all probably staying longer, but you were getting a little sleepy, so you decided to call it a night.

"Let's just go say goodbye to Sarah," you said and he nodded, letting you lead the way.

"Hey, I'm getting pretty tired, so we're gonna leave. Congratulations," you smiled once you had gotten to the table the happy couple was sitting at. As Chris was shaking the husband's hand, you had bent down to wrap your arms around Sarah in a tight hug.

"So you admit you're a 'we' now? You and Chris?" she teased, whispering in your ear.

"We're not," you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever you say," she smiled knowingly. "Thank you for coming," she said louder once you let go of her.

"It was a pleasure, congratulations," Chris smiled at the both of them, and you all gave your goodbyes.

On the way back, you were already lulling into sleep in the passenger's seat, and Chris smiled to himself.

"Chris," you mumbled from your half-asleep state.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming with me today. You're right. Dancing with you is better than sitting alone."

"Wow, what a compliment," he drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head buddy," you chuckled, before shifting around in your seat so your head was leaning on the window. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

"Sure," he smiled, "Sweet dreams."

"Thanks," you yawned.

When you got to your house, Chris gently nudged your shoulder a few times to wake you up. You woke up, confused for a second, but quickly regained your composure and thanked him for the ride.

You went into the house, barely changing out of your dress before plopping down on the bed.

It was kind of weird, honestly. Usually, no matter how tired you were, you wouldn't manage to fall asleep in a car, or a plane. Even a bed that wasn't yours was sometimes harder to sleep in.

But you were in your own bed now, so you didn't have a lot of time to mull that over before you sunk into a deep sleep.

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

"Hey," Chris greeted over the phone one Monday.

"Hi! How's it going?" you smiled.

"Fine. I mean, actually, do you wanna come over?"

"Right now?" you frowned.

"I mean, why not? Have the Monday chat in person."

"Um, sure. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit," you said. Hanging up, you didn't think too much of his invitation. He sounded fine, and he said he was. He was probably just being nice.

Soon enough you were knocking at his front door. It opened to reveal a very excited Dodger pouncing on you, and you giggled as you crouched down to pet him. "Yeah, hi Dodger! How's the cutest boy doing?"

"Ouch," Chris joked from the doorstep.

"Hello to you too, I guess," you said dryly, but with a grin on your face.

You all went inside, and Dodger went straight to his bed, curling up. "Your knock woke him up," Chris explained, smiling at the sight.

"Oh, sorry," you gave him a small smile.

"It's fine. As you can see, he has no problem going right back to sleep," he chuckled.

"Yeah," you giggled. "Is everything okay? I mean, is there a reason you wanted me to come except to enjoy my magnificent presence?" you teased.

"Well, that was mostly it," he laughed, "but actually, I did want to talk to you about something. Wanna go outside?"

"Um, sure," you said, frowning slightly before forcing yourself to smile again.

You stepped outside into his garden, sitting in the big lawn chairs.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.

"That's Orion's Belt, right?" he evaded, pointing at a group of stars in the night sky.

"I'm pretty sure it is," you shrugged.

For a moment, you were both quiet.

"I've changed my mind," Chris started. "This isn't the rest of my life. It's just my life."

"Okay," you said, not getting where he was going with this.

"You know, all these cheesy couples we made fun of at Sarah's wedding? I think they have it right."

"How come?"

"They realized that romance isn't about forever. It's about right here, right now. It’s in the little things. I've been so opposed to romance lately, and I was constantly thinking about how I wouldn't have a forever, so much so that I forgot what's going on now."

"And what's that?" you asked softly.

"Something much simpler than that. Happiness."

You stared at each other in silence, a slight frown still on your face.

"You make me happy," Chris admitted in a soft voice. "You make me really happy. And I don't want to lose your friendship, but I have to ask you this, because otherwise I don't think I'd forgive myself. Do you really not believe in romance? At all?"

"I don't know," you whispered. Clearing your throat, you continued a bit louder. "I don't believe in everyone's version of it. The happily ever after, forever. I don't need anyone to complete me either."

"There's always a middle road. Maybe not everyone has someone, and we don’t need romance, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to want it. We shouldn't have to sit alone at weddings," he said sincerely. After a breath, he continued. "I'm not asking you for forever. I don't want to. But I want to ask you for now. And I don't think I'd complete you, just like you don't complete me. But you do make my life a whole lot better."

"Chris, you know I'm not looking for anything, I told you that when we met," you said weakly.

"I know. I also wasn't looking for anything. And yet I found… something. And I'd be a coward not to pursue it. We can make our own kind of romance; not a happily ever after, but a happy here and now. No big cheesy gestures, or unreasonable promises, just… being together. And that means I can't promise you it'll work, that it'll be perfect. Hell, it'll probably be messy, and hard, and mundane, at times, but that's how life is. But I can promise I'll try. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life."

You thought back to every romantic relationship you've had. Every date you've been on. A lot of them were disappointing, but some of them were good.

None of them made you as happy as being with Chris did. Not one of your actual dates managed to top just hanging out with Chris. You didn't know why, but you felt safe with him, like you can be entirely yourself. You felt happy.

You didn't want to risk that. You didn't want to lose that. But what if taking this one risk would make it all that much better? You thought back to all of your friends, how happy they were with their significant other, how in love. What if putting your heart out on the line, for the first time in a long while, would make you happier than you had ever imagined?

Of course, it could also make you devastated. It could crush you. But that's the risk, isn't it?

There isn't any other person you'd rather take that leap with, you realized. In the few months you knew Chris, he already managed to become one of your favorite people in the entire world. You trusted him, cared about him, more than you'd let yourself realize up until now. And like he said, not exploring that would make you a coward. And you're not.

You took a deep breath. Chris gave you the time you needed, simply looking at you softly.

"I haven't dated anyone in a while. I might be rusty," you chuckled finally.

"I'm willing to take those odds," he smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, a grin slowly making its way onto your face. "If there's anyone I would do this with, it's you," you admitted softly.

He grinned, getting up from his chair and extending his hand out to you, and you accepted. Gently, he pulled you up on your feet, using his momentum to bring you to stand closer to him and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Slowly, you two inched closer, until, finally, his lips were on yours.

There weren't fireworks, or butterflies. There was just this moment, right here, right now. No doubts, or hesitations, it was peaceful. It felt right.

This moment was all you could ever ask for. All you'd ever need.

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

"You look so beautiful in the mornings," Chris murmured, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"You too. Happy birthday," You whispered back, weaving your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck. He hummed in response, and you giggled, feeling it tickling your neck.

You laid there for a while more, just basking in each other's company. But when you looked at the clock, you started nudging Chris away from you. "We should get up," you said softly, "We have a party to prepare for."

"The party's not until the evening," he whined, "Stay in bed," he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.

You ended up leaving the bed at noon, eating a big lunch before tidying up for the party. A few minutes later, you slipped away, to set up your surprise.

"Hey Chris?" you called from the other room, "Can you just come over here for a second?"

"Coming!"

He entered to find you and Dodger in matching little party hats, and you were holding one out for him too.

"Wow!" he burst into laughter, putting the party hat on his head. "What's all this for?"

"I thought we should celebrate a little before the guests arrive," you shrugged. "And, you know, Dodger looks so cute in that little hat."

"He does," Chris cooed. "How did you manage to put it on him? He would never let me put anything."

"Well, he just likes me more," you smirked. Chris scoffed amusedly. "Okay fine," you rolled your eyes, "I may have bribed him with a treat."

Dodger's ears perked up at the word and you both laughed at the suddenly interested dog.

"I shouldn't have said that," you giggled.

"Probably," he agreed. "Thank you," you put his arm on the small of your back, nudging you closer to his side.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," you smiled, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss, but before it could get any further Dodger was barking and putting his front paws on the both of you.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get jealous. We love you too," you and Chris laughed, petting his head affectionately.

Honestly that day was a perfectly normal day for you and Chris. Being in love for the two of you didn't mean big highs and lows. You had your moments, but most of the time, it was just this peaceful bliss.

Later that night, the party was already in full swing. You and Chris separated from each other at some point, but you were making the rounds, so you knew sooner or later you'd meet up again.

In the small crowd, it was easy to spot your friends, sitting with the same group they did last year. You smiled to yourself, going up and greeting everyone warmly.

"How's everyone doing?" you asked, sitting down for a moment.

There was a chorus of "fine"s and "good"s before the conversation continued. You joined in, talking to your friends and catching up with the other group.

"Hey," Chris' voice was suddenly next to you. He came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, talking softly next to your ear. "I'm gonna get myself another beer. You want anything as well?"

"Um, yeah. Can you bring me one too?"

"Sure," he smiled.

You tilted your head so you could reach and kiss his cheek, "Thanks."

As he walked away, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group, only to find them all looking at you with knowing grins.

"I thought you didn't do romance," said the woman you had spoken to last year, a teasing smile on her face.

"I didn't. I guess I changed my mind," you smiled softly, watching Chris’ back as he dissappeared into the kitchen.

Maybe romance wasn’t so bad after all.

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

did you catch the three references? tell me:)) i hope you like it, and if you stuck through this entire story, thank you so so much for reading!! as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts, and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself<3 happy chris day!!

special shoutout for @animnerd who gave me some motivation when i needed it<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian

Chris & co. taglist: @patzammit

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #happy birthday chris evans

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas in Holmes Chapel

Pairing: Harry Styles x Y/N

Genre: Christmas fluff on top of Christmas fluff

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is something I wrote super quick because I was in the Christmas spirit! I was/am also quite drunk (so be nice)!! More of my better writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think ab this in my ask! Also shoutout to Liz (@kiwicherryallaboutharry) and Morgan (@soullikestyles) for beta-ing and being sweethearts!! Thank you for reading <3

***

Shouts of “they’re finally here!” were the first things she heard when Harry opened the door to his mum’s house. After two delayed flights, ten hours on a plane, and bumper to bumper traffic the entire way to Anne’s, they were in shambles. This was the first time the pair were spending Christmas with Harry’s family, and this was definitely not the way she wanted it to start. She almost started crying when Gemma took her into her arms after nearly running across the house to greet her.

“I’m so happy you two made it,” she smiled, rubbing Y/N’s tired back when she didn’t release from the hug right away. “I was afraid that you weren’t going to make it tonight.”

“I could cry, Gem. I'm so happy to be here right now,” she confessed honestly, exhaustion clear in her voice.

Gemma released her from the embrace when Harry tapped her on the shoulder. “Hello? I’m here too. Do you not miss your baby brother?” His voice dripped with sarcasm and his dimples were deep on his cheeks, as they always were when he was home.

She rolled her eyes at him, muttering sarcastically “not as much as I missed your lovely girlfriend,” before he pulled her into a hug of his own. The two were the spitting image of each other, both with their exceptionally similar smiles and adorable noses. He squeezed the smaller woman tight, enjoying their reunion after not seeing each other for at least three or four months. They were still so close, even after Harry’s move to LA to be closer to his girlfriend. Y/N had pretended more than once that she hadn’t overheard them when he would call her for relationship advice.

Looking away from the Styles siblings, she was met by Anne's bright smile paired with her wide open arms extended for a hug. “Sweetheart, it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed with a Santa hat sitting snugly on her head, pulling her close to the woman’s warm and kind body. “There are plates of dinner made up for the two of you in the kitchen and plenty of leftovers in the fridge if you want any more.” She was naturally so caring about those around her and tonight was no different.

“Thank you so much, Anne,” she said graciously. “I’m so sorry we’re so late.”

“Oh, stop it. It’s a Christmas miracle you made it at all with the snow,” she brushed away her apologies, her voice taking a more serious turn as she locked her eyes with hers. “I’m so happy you’re here, Y/N. You’re just as much a part of our family as Harry is now.”

Y/N’s heart warmed with the kindness behind Anne’s words. There was so much love surrounding her right now, too much for her to comprehend without getting teary eyed. She was so thankful for the tenderness and care Harry’s family had shown her over the last three years. She felt at home in what used to just be a house to her; like she was a part of the family.

“Oi, stop hogging her,” Harry teased Y/N, bumping her hip lightly with his and nudging her out of the way so he could hug his mum.

“Harry Edward, I raised you to be polite. Leave the poor girl alone,” she scolded, but opened her arms up wide to receive her son. He was so much bigger than she was, seeming to swallow her body whole in his arms. Y/N couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she watched the two interact.

The pair of travelers were passed around the living room, giving hugs and kisses to the various aunts, uncles, cousins, and stragglers that were attending Christmas Eve dinner at Anne’s. The room was full of loud boisterous laughter and Christmas music that played off an antique record player and it smelled like wine and the remnants of a large dinner that had been eaten when they just couldn’t wait any longer for the two to arrive.

Y/N’s stomach growled without permission as soon as she saw the plates of food resting on the counter that had been waiting for them. The pair stood hovered over the plates and ate like they hadn’t seen food in weeks. At the moment, she could only think of two things she knew about Anne for sure: she knew how to raise children and she was a fantastic cook.

When she looked up and saw a spot of gravy hanging on the edge of Harry’s mouth, she just couldn’t resist. She tiptoed and pressed a short kiss to the corner of his lips, taking the gravy with her in the process. He looked down at her with a slightly surprised, but mostly loving, look after she pulled away. The edges of his lips turned up, asking “What was that for?”

“You had something,” she mused, jokingly twirling her pointer finger in the direction of her own mouth.

Before she could process it, his lips were back on hers, kissing her slowly and with so much love. His lips were soft and pillowy as always, but there was something more behind them that she just couldn’t place.

“What was that for?” she asked breathlessly when he released her, using his own words against him.

“I know I have been kind of on edge all day and I just wanted to thank you for dealing with me. I love you so much.” She couldn’t fight the grin that found its way onto her face every time he told her that he loved her. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe she had nabbed such a good one.

“I love you too. Are you alright?” She asked worriedly, noticing the way his eyebrows were nervously knit together and how his posture was slightly worsened like it always was when he was stressed.

“I’ll be okay soon.” There was more behind his words, she knew it for sure, but Harry was very good at playing it cool when he wanted to. She knew he would either tell her soon or it would resolve on its own; she trusted him to tell her what was going on if he really needed her.

Her train of thought was interrupted when Gemma stuck her head into the kitchen and announced that the annual Charades tournament was beginning. Y/N had only heard about the myth of the Charades tournament before and she was excited to find out why her boyfriend raved about it so often. Harry excitedly grabbed her hand, leading her into the crowded living room, watching as the first teams had already begun acting out and guessing.

Before long, it was Harry and Y/N’s turn to go, matched up against Gemma and her husband. She sat on the couch, assigned to play the guesser after he cockily told her ‘there's only one actor in this family,’ and watched closely as both Harry and Gemma read the clue written on the small slip of paper. Gemma gave him a playful and excited smile before extending a friendly hand for him to shake.

“You ready for this, H?” she asked, but once again, Y/N felt like there was more behind her words than friendly competition. Y/N began to think she was being kept in the dark about something, but before she could think too hard about it the pair had begun their miming.

Harry took the approach of creating a circle with his pointer and thumb, repeatedly slipping the whole he had created over his left ring finger.

“Wedding ring!” she guessed excitedly from the couch, only to be met with a shake of his head.

He then moved to get down on one knee, pretending to hold a ring box in his hands. “Asking someone to marry you!” she questioningly yelled again, only met with another shake of his head, but she could tell she was getting closer.

It was when he performed the same ring gesture while on his knee that she got it. “Engagement ring!” She nearly screamed and jumped off the couch, twirling in celebration (a symptom of always being a bit too competitive) after Harry’s face lit up and signaled they had won.

She was confused for a split second when she came back around and Harry was still on his knee, but it all made sense when she saw the real ring box that was now in his hands. Her hands flew up to her face in shock and she was unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words.

“My love,” he began softly, “I knew I wanted you in my life forever from the moment I met you at that stupid bar. I fought Mitch so hard that night, but he dragged me along and it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She remembered that night fondly, but it had admittedly been a mess. She had just gotten dumped and so had Harry, when they found each other at the end of the bar, far away from anyone who was actually having fun, they had started talking and never stopped.

“You make me a better person,” he went on as tears had begun to roll down her cheeks, “and I never want to be who I was before I met you ever again. I love you so much and I never want to live without you. So,” he took a deep breath with hopeful eyes, “will you marry me?”

A shout of “Yes!” let her lips before he even finished, throwing herself at him and bringing him into a kiss.

It all made sense now. She understood why Harry had been so upset when their flight had been messed up, and why Gemma and Anne had been so excited to see them, and especially why he had been on edge all day. He was nervous to ask her, in the most charming and endearing way.

The crowd around them cheered when they finally stood up and their eyes locked as Harry delicately slid the ring onto her left hand. His eyes were slightly teary, but held an excitement that was unmatched. The ring was giant and beautiful, exactly what she expected from him when the time came, and she could barely tear her eyes away from it.

“This is the best Christmas present ever, H. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs/feedback are much appreciated!!

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fiction #one direction fan fic #one direction #my writing #harryandhockey #Harry Christmas fic

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evermoreholland · 4 years ago

Text

in harmony | tom holland

-> singer!reader x tom holland

-> summary: after a nasty break up, you go to london with your two best friends in hope to find inspiration for your upcoming album and a london boy soon became your muse.

-> word count: 5.7k

-> a/n: wow. this is probably my favorite fic of mine. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do. big thank you to @rainbowrobin for hyping this fic up and being its biggest fan. also thank you to @cali-holland for beta reading this for me! your support means the world to me and you inspire me every day to keep writing. love you to bits <3

~~~

Breaking up with someone you used to care about was never easy. In fact, grieving and eventually getting over that person was the hardest thing to do. You were a singer so relationships that went public usually ended up terribly wrong. The good part about it is that you can write a hit song about the experience.

Breaking up with your past boyfriend was probably the worst experience for you thus far. You thought that he was the one, every move you made was for him and you ended up depending on him constantly. And he broke your heart. He played you like a fiddle and played with the strings of your heart. He cheated on you with someone you were insecure about the duration of your relationship with him, which made everything feel worse.

You decided that you needed a change of scenery in hopes to clear your head. You had been spending time in your Los Angeles apartment moping around, trying to get over your ex-boyfriend. You also had a deadline for your new album and you haven’t even started. Your album was due towards the end of the summer, and it was now spring.

You sat down on your sofa with a pen and notebook in your hand. You were determined to write something. You didn’t want to write songs about your breakup, but that was all you were thinking about. You saw your phone on the coffee table light up and buzz. It was your manager and agent, Cassandra. You picked up the phone nervously, knowing that she was going to ask about your progress or lack thereof.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hello, Y/N,” Cassandra greeted sweetly. “How’s the album coming along? We need to start recording soon.”

“Funny you ask.” You always tried to make fun out of an uncomfortable situation.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Cass! I have no idea what I should be writing about for this album.” It’s not like you didn’t want to write. You did, but you had no idea what to write about.

“Maybe you need a change of scenery, dear. You haven’t been out in months,” Cassandra suggested.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Where would you want to go? You can stay there for the rest of the spring and the beginning of the summer.”

You thought about it for a moment. You definitely wanted to leave the country. “How does London sound, Cass?”

“Sounds nice. I’ll book you, Natalie, and Sarah tickets for this weekend and I’ll rent the three of you an Airbnb for your stay,” Cassandra confirmed. Natalie was your personal assistant and your best friend. Sarah was your older sister who traveled with you everywhere and she helped you with many of your songs. She was good to bounce ideas off of. You had the perfect team.

“Perfect. Thank you.” You both said your goodbyes and hung up.

***

Tom got off the airplane and sighed in relief. He was finally home. After many months of filming on another continent, he was back in London. Tom was ready to finally sleep in his own bed and hang out with his brothers and friends once again.

Harry and Tom took an Uber back to Tom’s apartment. It was fairly late and all Tom wanted to do was sleep. In the Uber, Tom and Harry made light conversation.

“You want to go to the new pub by our flat this weekend? Haz and Tuwaine want to hang out,” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Tom mumbled. To be quite honest, Tom had absolutely no desire to go out at all this weekend, but he knew that his mates wanted to see him. He did want to see them too, so he agreed.

“Sounds good.”

***

You packed your suitcases for London at the last minute. In your defense, Cassandra only booked Thursday night’s tickets on Wednesday, so you didn’t have that much time in the first place. You were planning on using your time in London to relax and to create a healthy headspace to write your next album.

You called Natalie to ask her opinion on some of your outfit choices. “Nat, am I going for a casual look this trip? Like sweatpants and t-shirts?”

“Absolutely not, Y/N. Are you insane?!”

“It was just a question, Natalie.” You defended yourself. “What should I pack then?”

“I don’t know, just look hot. You need to get out of the post-breakup sweatpants phase.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. You grabbed some cute spring sundresses from your closet and threw them into your suitcase. You packed some jeans and blouses as well.

You hung up with Natalie and took a look at your bag. “Should be good.”

***

The flight to London from Los Angeles was long and exhausting. You arrived at Heathrow airport in the early afternoon on Friday. You immediately went to the house to rest up from jetlag. Once you woke up a few hours later, Sarah was pressuring you and Natalie to get dressed. “We’re going to the pub! Get up, ladies!”

“What? Why?” Natalie groaned. You and Natalie were laying on your beds in your shared room. Sarah jumped onto your bed and tackled you.

“Sarah, we’re exhausted,” you said. You pushed your sister off of you and sat up. “We can just go tomorrow.”

“It’s the pub’s grand opening! It’s supposed to be fire!”

“Fine,” you mumbled. You got up and began unpacking your suitcase. “But I refuse to wear heels.”

***

Harrison made his way to his best mate’s flat to pick him up for the Cheer Beers grand opening on Friday night. Harrison used his spare key to get into Tom’s place. “Tom,” Harrison called out. He made his way to Tom’s bedroom to make sure he was ready for the night.

“In my room!” Tom exclaimed. Tom sounded upset and agitated. Harrison entered his room anyway because he wanted to hang out with his best friend. He opened the door and noticed Tom laying his bed under the covers.

“Are you alright, mate?” Harrison asked. Harrison noticed Tom in his pajamas while in bed. “Why aren’t you ready to go? Harry already went out with Tuwaine to wait in line.”

“I want to hang out with you all, but I’m just so jetlagged, mate.”

Harrison took his phone out of his back pocket to check the time and noticed an Instagram notification from you. He opened it out of curiosity and it was a direct message. It said that you would be at Cheer Beers tonight with your friends and asked if he was going. Harrison and you had met at an award show a few months back and you became friends. “You know what I just found out, Tom?”

“What?”

“Y/N L/N is going to the grand opening tonight.”

“You’re lying just to get me out of bed!” Tom accused him. Tom didn’t want to admit it, but he fancied you. He has been following you on social media and listening to your music for a while now, so Harrison saying you were going to be at the pub caught his attention.

“I’m not.” Harrison showed Tom his phone with your direct message. “I had no idea she was in town, though.”

“No clue, either.”

“Now will you come?” Harrison asked. “I know you have a huge crush on her.”

Tom eyed him skeptically but then let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go.”

***

You waited in line outside of Cheer Beers with Sarah and Natalie. You were wearing a black sleeveless cocktail dress with black slip-on vans. You saw a few familiar faces approach you and you realized that it’s your friend Harrison and his mates. You recognized one of his friends to be Tom Holland.

“Hey, Haz!” You greeted. He pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly. You pulled away and said, “Following me, I see?”

“Very funny,” he replied. “We were coming to opening night anyway. We were planning this in honor of Tom’s return from filming.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you said and then turned to Tom. You put your hand out for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

He shook your hand and you felt his sweaty palm touch yours. You could assume that he was either unwell or nervous. “Tom. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You introduced Natalie and Sarah to Harrison and he introduced the rest of his friends to the three of you.

“Would you like to share a table with us?” Harry, Tom’s younger brother, asked you.

“I’m sure that Y/N L/N would have much better opportunities than to sit with us, Harry,” Tom interjected.

“Actually, Tom, we would love to.” You all entered the pub and grabbed a table in the back room. Harrison sat between Sarah and Tuwaine. Harry sat by Natalie. You sat between Natalie and Tom, per Natalie’s whisper in your ear to go for it. You all got your first round of drinks.

“So what brings you to London?” Tom asked.

“Needed to clear my head,” you said and then ate the olives from your martini.

“So you flew halfway across the world?” Tom was amused and you could tell. He wasn’t trying to laugh at you particularly, he just thought it was funny that you chose London of all places.

“Shut up,” you teased. “We’re here for the summer. A vacation, or holiday, if you will.”

“Nice, nice.” You could feel the slight awkward tension between the two of you. You were basically strangers so it made sense. You decided to try and break it. “How was filming for the third Spider-Man film?”

Tom’s eyes lit up at your sudden interest in his work. “Can I tell you a funny story?”

***

Three hours passed by and you decided to call it a night. You talked with Tom the entire night. You enjoyed his company but you were also jetlagged. “Tom, I’m tired,” you said as you leaned on his shoulder.

“Me too.”

“Want to walk me home?” You asked.

“Would love to.” You both got up from the booth and Tom paid for your drinks, even though you protested. Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry, Sarah, and Natalie didn’t look like they were ready to leave any time soon so you said your goodbyes to them and left with Tom.

“How far are you away from here?” Tom asked you.

“About a ten minute walk.” You began walking in the cool London air.

“So, Harrison told me that you were writing for your new album. How’s that going?”

“Not well,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s been fucking difficult.”

“I’m sorry, love.” The pet named warmed your heart and body even more. Tom wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “I wish I can help you out somehow.”

“It’s alright. Getting out tonight helped me get into a good headspace,” you said.

“Glad to hear it.” You arrived at your Airbnb and Tom walked you to the front door. “I had a great time tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled, the first genuine smile that you’ve had in a while. “Me too, Tom.” You opened your door to enter.

“Wait.” Tom stopped you. “Let me get your number.”

“Sure.”

***

Two weeks had passed since you arrived in London and you and Tom have been texting back and forth. He had even taken you on a tour of London. He took you to all of the hot spots. Occasionally, Tom, Harrison, and Harry would come over to your Airbnb to hang out with you, Sarah, and Natalie. You were developing friendships with everyone, but you felt a bit stronger about Tom. He was charming, kind, and really funny. You enjoyed his company and you finally got the chance to start writing for your upcoming album. You realized that you didn’t want to write about your breakup with your ex, but instead write about your crush on the brown-haired London boy.

“How is the album coming along?” Cassandra asked you on the phone.

“Pretty good. I have a killer single coming your way and many other songs too.”

“Remember, we need to start recording at the end of July.”

“You got it.”

“You sound happy,” she commented. She was right. You were happy and finally completely over your ex. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you writing about?”

“Oh, you know… London, pubs, boys,” you trailed off.

***

Harrison was busy planning his upcoming date with your sister, Sarah. They hit it off extremely well at the opening of Cheer Beers. They got each other’s numbers and planned to go on a date. To be honest, Harrison was stressed out. He scored a date with Sarah L/N, which ultimately shocked him. So, he decided to go to his best mate for some advice.

Tom was sitting in his living room and Harrison entered with two dress shirts in hand. One of them was a white button-down and the other one navy. “Which shirt should I wear on my date with Sarah?”

“Black slacks, right?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, and a black leather jacket.”

“Go with white,” Tom suggested.

“Thanks, mate. Another question,” Harrison proposed. It felt natural for Harrison to ask Tom about his lady troubles, even though Tom had been single for a while.

Tom nodded his head to urge Harrison to continue.

“What if I fuck this up?” He asked nervously. “I really like Sarah.”

Tom got up from the couch to come closer to Harrison and put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, mate. Just be yourself. She’ll fancy you, I promise.”

“How are you so good at giving me advice but you can’t get a girlfriend?”

Tom mocked being bothered. “Rude,” he scoffed.

“What are you waiting for?”

“If I say the perfect girl, will you slap me?” Tom joked.

“Yes, yes I will,” Harrison laughed as he replied. “I think that you already found the perfect girl at Cheer Beers.”

“We’re still getting to know each other. Why must we move so fast?” Tom wondered. He wanted to take things slow. His life had always moved fast and he wanted something to move at his pace, for once. Too many relationships have moved too fast and he ended up hurt.

“Because she’s only here for so long and I have a feeling that she likes you,” Harrison reasoned. Tom was starting to feel the same way about you too.

“Fine. While you go on your date with Sarah tonight, I’ll see if Y/N wants to hang out.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table and texted you asking if you wanted to come over. You replied saying yes and he smiled. “We’re hanging out.”

“Great. Don’t forget to use protection,” Harrison said as he ran away to go get dressed for his date.

“Fuck off, you div!”

***

Tom went to the grocery store to pick up some snacks and beers before you came over to his flat. He tidied up the living room once he got home and made sure to fluff the pillow to make them look nicer. Even though you and Tom were only friends, he couldn’t help but make sure that everything looked perfect for you.

You arrived 30 minutes later. You wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt, along with your slides. Your hair was out of your face and Tom thought that you looked stunning. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Tom blushed. “Nice sweatshirt.” Your sweatshirt was light blue and it had butterflies on it. Tom realized that he loved that color on you.

He led you to the couch and he sat beside you. “So what did you do today?” You asked.

“I worked on a script that I’m writing and then I helped Harrison get ready for his date with your sister. What about you, love?” The pet name made your heart flutter. Tom was definitely charming.

“I worked on some songs for the album,” you answered proudly.

“Care to share?”

“Willing to share what the script’s about?” You asked back, already knowing the answer.

“I’m legally not allowed to share, so no. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Then my answer is the same.”

“Well played, pretty girl,” he flirted. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Avengers: Age of Ultron?”

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite Marvel movies!” You exclaimed. “I have a feeling that you knew that already.”

Tom smiled at you as he picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. “I may have, but only because Haz told me. Don’t worry, though. It’s one of my favorites too.”

Tom found the movie and before he hit play he got up from the couch. “May I offer you some popcorn before we start the movie? I have beer as well.”

“Yes to both, please.” Tom went to the kitchen to pop the popcorn and grab some beers. He came back around five minutes later with everything.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed you a bottle of beer. “I know it’s not a martini.”

“It’ll have to do,” you teased. You pat the seat beside you to urge Tom over. “Now, come sit.”

Tom pressed play and the Marvel introduction appeared on the screen. You moved closer to Tom and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, just like he did that night at the pub. “Is this ok?” He asked.

“It’s perfect.”

Around an hour into the movie, the popcorn was finished along with your first bottle of beer. Tom’s hand was still resting on your shoulder but now your head was resting on his. “Y/N?” Tom called out.

“Yeah?” You asked as you moved your head away from him so you could look at him.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” You nodded so he would continue. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked while smiling.

“Yeah.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” you said as you leaned in. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft first kiss. You kissed back almost immediately. After a couple of seconds, you pulled away from him.

“Wow,” he said.

“Ditto,” you said and then pulled him back towards you. You kissed him again and you knew that from now on, you couldn’t get enough of him.

***

Tom and you didn’t finish the movie the other night. After your many makeout sessions with him, you decided to go home, and you promised him that the two of you would get together again soon. You went home with the biggest smile on your face. Since your kiss, you and Tom have not talked about the status of your relationship. As of right now, you were just friends who have kissed before. No biggie.

It was now the 28th of May and you were sitting on a park bench having coffee with Harrison. It would be Tom’s 25th birthday in four days and the two of you were attempting to plan the perfect party for him.

“You’ll get the decorations, Sam will cook a few dishes, and I’ll provide booze,” Harrison said, listing things off. “We’ll host it at my new flat and I already called everyone.”

“Sounds great, Haz. I just hope he has a great time.”

“I’m sure he will,” he said as he winked at you, indicating something.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, referring to his wink.

“I know that something happened between the two of you last week. Tom hasn’t stopped smiling since the two of you started hanging out. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you planned a party for him.”

“We all are planning it,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, but it’s not like he fancies me,” Harrison laughed.

You rolled your eyes at the blonde-haired boy in front of you. “Whatever.” You got up from the park bench and began walking towards his car. “Come on, Harrison. We need to go to the market.”

***

It was the 1st of June; Tom’s birthday. You woke up early to make sure that everything was ready to go for the party tonight. Harrison and Tom’s brothers planned a golf trip with Tom while you set up Harrison’s flat. You brought Sarah and Natalie along with you to help.

“Move that banner a little more to the right,” you told Sarah. She moved it as you requested. The banner said, Happy 25th birthday, Tom! in light blue glitter. “Looks great. Thanks, sis.”

You blew up balloons, set up tables for the food and drinks, got streamers and ribbons, and finally assembled the cupcake tower with the cupcakes you and Natalie baked the night before.

“Red velvet. Nice choice,” Sarah said as she took a look at the cupcakes on display.

“They’re Tom’s favorite,” you pointed out.

“Seems like you know a lot about him.”

“Well, he is my friend.”

Natalie laughed at your response to your sister’s comment. “Is that all he is?” She asked.

“For now.” You pulled out your phone from your pocket to check the time. It was the early afternoon and the party would start in a few hours. “We better get going to get ready. Sam will bring the food and set it up within the hour.”

Before you got into the car, you texted Tom to wish him a happy birthday and he responded with a heart emoji. You smiled to yourself and then got into the car to drive to your Airbnb.

The three of you washed up and got dressed for Tom’s party. You decided on wearing a light blue sundress with daisies on it. You matched it with white wedges and you did your hair to your liking. Once you were all ready you drove to Harrison’s. When you got there, Harrison, Sam, Tuwaine, and a few other friends of Tom’s were already there.

“Harry is bringing Tom in around 15 minutes,” Harrison told you.

“Ok. Everything seems to be going pretty smoothly.”

“We make a pretty great team,” Harrison said in appreciation for all of the work to make Tom’s party happen.

“Tell that to Sarah over there,” you teased him. His date with your sister went well from what she told you, but because of Harrison’s nervousness, they haven’t talked much since. “She’s been dying to hang out with you.”

“Are you just saying that so you can have Tom all to yourself when he gets here?” He tried to joke.

“No,” you said seriously. “Go talk to her, Haz.” You pushed him lightly in her direction to encourage him to go talk to her.

“I see Harry’s car pulling up!” Sam said a few minutes later. “Everyone get ready.”

Harry used Harrison’s spare key to get into his flat and once both of them entered you all yelled, “Surprise!”

“Thanks, guys!” Tom said in shock. Tom made his rounds to greet everyone to say thank you. You waited patiently in the kitchen for the birthday boy. He finally approached you after a few minutes. “Hey, love.”

“Happy birthday,” you said as you pulled him in for a hug. “You look very handsome.”

He pulled away to look at you. “Thank you, but you’re absolutely stunning.”

You leaned in to kiss his cheek and then said, “Thanks, Tom.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said and then grabbed your hands to intertwine your fingers together.

“For what?”

“Harrison told me that you helped him plan all of this, so thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said genuinely. “You like it?”

“I love it. He looked over to the counter and saw the cupcakes. “Is that a cupcake tower?”

“A red velvet cupcake tower,” you confirmed. “I baked them.”

“You’re a goddess.” He kissed your lips for half a second and then grabbed a cupcake from one of the tiers. He unwrapped the cupcake and then took a bite. He hummed in delight.

“I’m taking that you like them,” you giggled at the man in front of you. He could seriously make anything look cute.

“They’re heaven,” he moaned. Tom dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped your nose with it. You looked at him in shock. “Aw, you look so adorable,” he said.

You laughed at his antics. “Glad you think so, babe.”

Tom’s lit up at the pet name. “Babe? Hmmm.”

“Yeah, babe.” You took some frosting from what was remaining of his cupcake and placed some on his nose to match you. “You look very cute with frosting on your nose, babe.”

Tom grabbed a napkin from the counter and cleaned the frosting off the both of you. “We’re both very cute.”

“Ok, lovebirds,” Sam called out for the two of you. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Before we go out there, I have something to ask you,” Tom said.

“And what may that be?”

“Will you go out on a date with me?” He asked nervously. You felt your heart skip a beat and you could’ve sworn that you felt Tom’s heart beating rapidly from how close you were standing to him.

“I would love to, Tom,” you said and then kissed him to confirm that you really wanted to.

***

The rest of the night went well and Tom enjoyed his time with his friends. You, Sarah, and Natalie crashed at Harrison’s place along with Tom and Harry. The party ended late and the five of you were too tired to drive home, so Harrison offered to let you all stay there.

You woke up early and made your way downstairs to heat the kettle for tea. As you were waiting, you heard footsteps, and soon enough a pair of arms wrapped around you. “Good morning, beautiful,” Tom said and then kissed your clothed shoulder.

“Morning.” You turned around so you could face him. “How did you sleep?”

“Not so well,” Tom said as he stretched out his arms. “Harrison’s a kicker.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, and then Tom pouted. “Quit pouting, Tommy. I know you’re faking it.”

“Fine,” Tom mumbled.

You turned to the stove and saw that the kettle was ready. “Want tea?”

“Please. A splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you said as you poured him a cup. “So where are we going on our first date?”

“That’s a surprise, darling.”

***

A week after Tom’s birthday, Tom texted you asking if you were available to go on your first date. You had been working on the album the entire morning so you thought it’d be nice to go out with Tom. You replied yes and he told you to be ready within the hour. Tom knocked on your door around an hour later, with a bouquet in his hand. “These are for you, love,” he said with a smile as he handed them to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said and then sniffed the flowers. “Come in while I put these in some water.” Tom entered your Airbnb and you searched for a vase in one of the cabinets. Once you found one, you filled it up with water and put the flowers in. “We should be good to go now.”

Tom held your hand as he led you to the car. He opened the door for you and then got in and started the car. “You ready?”

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll see in around 15 minutes, angel.” Tom grabbed your hand that was resting in your lap and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. “I don’t think I told you this, but you look ethereal.”

“You’re quite the charmer, Holland.”

“I aim to please,” he joked. “But in all seriousness, you always look gorgeous.”

Tom was by far the kindest man you have ever met in your entire life. You have known him for barely two months but he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You had never felt this way about anyone before.

Tom drove down to a lake. “It’s one of my secret spots,” he told you.

He led you down to the grass near the water and he set up a picnic there for the two of you. “I made sandwiches, cut up some fruit, and some apple cider.”

“It looks good. Thank you, Tom.” He pulled everything out from the picnic basket and handed you one of the sandwiches.

“Anything for you.”

“So this is one of your secret spots, huh?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he took a bite from his sandwich.

“So you bring a lot of girls here?” You teased and you could’ve sworn that you saw Tom almost choke on his sandwich. “Is that why it's so special?”

“Very funny, love,” Tom said. “No, I actually come here alone.”

“I’m guessing because it’s quiet.”

“Yeah, I come here when I need to clear my head.”

You looked around the area and you immediately understood why Tom liked it so much. There was a beautiful, cool breeze and the birds chirping sounded like music to your ears. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I can drive you here to write songs if you’d like,” Tom offered.

“That would be lovely.”

You and Tom spent a couple of hours at the lake. You talked about anything and everything, and you finally felt yourself get closer to him. You felt him opening up to you too, which you felt good about.

“Would you like to go on a drive with me?” Tom asked once you both packed up the remainder of the picnic.

“Will there be music involved?”

“What would be a nice evening drive without music? C’mon, let’s go.” Tom led you to his car and you began your drive. The sun was setting and it was beautiful. “It’s wonderful outside, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you said.

“I had a great time with you, Y/N.”

“Me too.”

*** Once Tom dropped you off, you began writing another song. His date left you inspired and you were starting to like him more and more. Each time you saw him your feelings for him grew. He inspired you to write your song, London Boy.

Tom wanted a second date. He felt so good leaving the first one and knew that he wanted to pursue a relationship with you. He knew that it would be hard but relationships won’t always be easy. He decided to call you the next to ask when he could see you again.

“Tom, we just went out,” you teased.

“I know, Y/N, but I like you. A lot.” You thought that it was cute how Tom was eager for a second date. You were excited too.

“I like you, too. I would love to see you again, too,” you said.

“Coffee? I don’t drink it but I know how much you like it,” Tom offered.

“How about tea? Know any good spots for a cup of tea and maybe breakfast?”

“I know just the place. See you soon, Y/N.”

***

Many amazing dates with Tom and a bunch of fun days in London later and you know that you’re ready to start recording your next album. People had their assumptions about you and Tom. Rumors had gone around but Tom and you didn’t address them.

London inspired so much of your album that you decided to record there. The rest of your team flew out and you began recording.

You called Tom asking him to come to the studio. “I’m recording one of my favorite songs today. I would love for you to come if you’re free.” You were recording London Boy today and you wanted Tom to hear it since he hadn’t before. It would also be a good way to officially tell Tom that you’re falling in love with him.

“I would love to come. Send me the address.”

“You got it. See you in 20.”

You sent Tom the address of the studio and he was there within 15 minutes. You greeted him at the front. “Hey, babe.”

He kissed you on the cheek and then asked, “Are you excited for today?”

“Very. I’m excited for you to hear the song,” you said as you led him into the studio. You introduced him to Cassandra and the rest of your team.

“Y/N, get your pretty ass in the booth,” Cassandra said. You walked into the recording booth and put on your headphones. “Let’s do this.”

“Tom, sit up in front,” you said and then he took a seat beside Cassandra. “This one is called London Boy.”

The upbeat music came on and you knew that you were skipping the intro for now so you went in with the first verse.

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives

You heard Cassandra tell you to stop so they could play it back. You saw Tom smiling at you as you were singing and you took that as a good sign that he was enjoying it.

“Now for the chorus.”

You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet Darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (Ooh)

You ended up finishing the recording of the song in an hour. You left the booth for your break and you first greeted Tom. “What did you think of it?”

“I love you, too,” he said. You leaned up to him and kissed him with every fiber of your being.

“That’s good because many of these songs are about you.”

“And I can’t wait to hear them all,” he said and then smiled.

“I can’t believe how I’ve only been here for three months and I already feel this way,” you said honestly. You have never fallen so fast for anyone, but it feels right with Tom. Everything feels right with him.

“Well, believe it because it’s real,” Tom confirmed. “Be mine, Y/N?”

“I thought you’d never ask, lover.”

~~~

leave feedback!

tagging: @tomsbabymomma @canwekissforever-hazzy @pinklxmonade @tomsbrina @storybookholland

#this is scheduled so i hope it shows up in the tags #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic

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riversofmars · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: 13 and River babysit Anthony Williams (Amy and Rory’s adopted son)

This is such a cute prompt! I combined it with a similar one and hope this works for you, enjoy! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 1800

Read on AO3 or below

All in the Family

“And you’re sure you’re up for this?“ Amy turned to River one more time, halfway out of the door of their flat in 1940s New York.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?“ River crossed her arms in front of her chest challengingly.

“You’re not exactly the most responsible adult.“ Rory couldn’t help pointing out and glanced to his wife to find out whether they were going to change their minds at the last minute.

“I'll take that as a compliment.“ River smirked. “Remember this was your idea.“

“Yes but only because we don’t know many people here yet!“ Rory admitted.

“And having your baby stolen once, you don’t want to trust strangers, I get it.“ River gave her parents a kind smile. She was very happy for them. They deserved to have the calm family life that they had missed out on with her. Adopting baby Anthony had been a wonderful idea.

“It’s just been such a long time since we’ve been able to go out.“ Amy explained. “I just didn’t understand how hard raising a child would be!“ She sighed, running her hand through her hair. She was more exhausted than she ever had been while travelling with the Doctor. “We just really need to have an evening just for us.“

“Say no more and get yourself going before I change my mind.“ River ushered them out the door.

“You are a godsend, River.“ Amy kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t get up to anything stupid.“ She wagged her finger at her.

“What, me? Stupid? Perish the thought.“ River feigned hurt but laughed.

“Just make sure Anthony is okay.“ Amy implored her and gave a little wave to the toddler that was just coming up behind River and wrapping his arms around her leg.

“You can count on me. We’ll have a brilliant time, won’t we, brother dearest?“ River smiled down at the child and patted his head.

“Ri-ver.“ The toddler nuzzled into her thigh.

“See, fast friends already.“ River chuckled and lifted him up.

“Does she… do you know anything about toddlers?“ Rory asked, insecure for a moment.

“I am married to the Doctor, does that count?“ River countered and the Ponds laughed:

“Fair point…“

“Relax, we will be fine, it’s just for a few hours.“ River kissed the forehead of her adoptive brother who was giving her a koala bear hug. “Tea, books, bed. I got this.“

“See you both later, look after each other.“ Amy smiled and kissed Anthony’s head, as did Rory.

“This is a bad idea…“ Rory hummed to his wife as they waved their goodbyes and made their way down the corridor.

“It’s a brilliant idea.“ Amy waved off his concerns.

“Right Anthony, there is someone I would like you to meet.“ River smiled at her little brother as she closed the door.

“Meet?“ Anthony echoed as River carried him back into the living room.

“Someone very special: Your brother-in-law. Well, I say brother… sister-in-law? Alien-in-law?“ River grinned,and as if on cue the TARDIS became visible in the lounge.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me see them!“ The Doctor stuck her head out, having waited patiently for the Ponds to depart.

“Because they never would have left and they could do with a break.“ River explained with a chuckle as her wife skipped out of the TARDIS and towards them.

“Hello Anthony Pond!“ She grinned, ruffling the toddler’s curls who just giggled in response. He appeared fascinated by the sudden appearance of the blue box and pulled away from River, seemingly wanting to be set down.

“Williams…“ River corrected the Doctor as she sat her brother down who rushed to the TARDIS, circling around it in wonder.

“What shall we play with, Anthony?“ The Doctor ignored her wife and dropped to her knees in the middle of a pile of toys. “See, we’re gonna have the best time!“ She pulled her screwdriver from her coat and sonic-ed the toys. All of a sudden, cars and toy robots started moving on their own accord. Anthony giggled in delight and rushed over to the Doctor, the TARDIS no longer the most interesting thing around here.

“Guess that means I’m making tea?“ River chuckled as Anthony threw himself at the Doctor.

“Would you want either one of us close to a hob?“ The Doctor retorted, hugging the child tightly.

“Fair point.“ River chuckled.

——

“I don’t know why I asked you here, it’s like babysitting two toddlers.“ River was cleaning up the kitchen after tea had turned into a food fight.

“'Cause this is the closest thing you and I have to a family.“ The Doctor answered with surprising candour. Anthony was jawing, leaning against her.

“As much as I try to, I don’t really feel like part of them…“ River answered thoughtfully.

“Our lives are more complicated than that…“ The Doctor couldn’t help but agree. Neither one of them was suited to regular family dynamics.

“Would it be so bad though? Settling down for a time?“ River mused, looking from Anthony to her wife.

“Maybe at some point.“ The Doctor gave her a soft smile. This River hadn’t done Darillium yet. She had all of that to come and the Doctor missed their time there more than she would care to admit.

“Bed time?“ She asked, seeing as Anthony was virtually falling asleep next to her.

“I think so.“ River agreed with a smile and walked over to them. “Come here Anthony…“ She scooped him up. “Let’s get you into your PJs…“

Both the Doctor and River had presumed bedtime would be easy, considering how tired Anthony was, but they had thought wrong.

“Stop turning the light on and off!“ River pleaded, picking him up again to finally put him in his bed. Anthony appeared to have saved up his energy just for this.

“Still want kids?“ The Doctor tried her best to keep a straight face as she watched her wife struggle with the toddler.

“You know all of a sudden, being a big sister seems perfectly adequate.“ River retorted.

“I’ll get him a bottle of milk.“ The Doctor suggested, just as Anthony got up again and raced past River to the light switch.

“Stop it with the light switch!“ River groaned and scooped him up again. “Please, will you just stay in bed now?“ She tugged him in.

“Well well well, isn’t this a lovely sight.“ A voice sounded from the doorway that made River’s blood run cold. She whipped around, standing protectively in front of the bed.

“Madame Kovarian, how did you…“ She stared at the woman in the doorway.

“I knew I would find you eventually.“ Madame Kovarian smirked, walking further into the room. “And who is this little man? Tell me, am I a grandmother?“

“How dare you show your face here!“ River growled, regretting immediately that she left her gun in the TARDIS. She hadn’t anticipated needing it for babysitting duties.

“I believe you and I have some unfinished business.“ Kovarian retorted. “How is motherhood treating you, Melody? Where is the husband? Leaving you to do all the child care?“

“Right behind you!“ The Doctor called from the doorway, armed with nothing but a bottle of milk. She quickly accessed the situation in front of her, glaring at the unwelcome guest.

“Oh well, not your child then, is it?“ Kovarian retorted with a cruel smirk. “Now then, I think it’s time for some good old fashioned revenge…“ She pulled a gun on them.

Suddenly the light flicked off! Anthony had snuck out from behind River and gone for his favourite game again. River jumped at the opportunity. She flung herself at Kovarian and disarmed her quickly. The moment the light came back on, Kovarian was on the floor and River held her gun to her head.

“Never underestimate a Pond!“ The Doctor grinned and scooped up the child into a tight hug.

“You little monster!“ Kovarian spat.

“If anyone is a monster here, Madame Kovarian, it’s you.“ River retorted icily.

“Surprisingly quiet in here… maybe River managed to get him to sleep alright after all…“ Rory mused as he opened the door to the flat and they walked inside. It had been a lovely evening, just what they needed.

“What the…“ Amy stopped dead in her tracks as they stepped into the living room.

“Amelia Pond! And Rory the Roman!“ The Doctor exclaimed and ran towards them, pulling them into bone crushing hugs.

“River?!“ Amy exclaimed, needing an explanation. Who was this woman? What was she doing in their flat? Why did she know who they were? And why was Madame Kovarian tied to a chair in the middle of their lounge?!

“What can I say… Mum, Dad… when my husband regenerated into a hot blonde I started batting for the other team, hope that’s alright with you.“ River answered, gesturing to the Doctor who grinned widely, barely able to contain her excitement.

“What?!“ Amy and Rory exclaimed in unison.

“She didn’t want to tell you I was here cause she thought you’d be worried we’d set the place on fire…“ River explained a little bit more apologetically.

“Instead you have a tied up Madame Kovarian in our living room?!“ Amy gestured to the unwelcome guest.

“Ouch!“ Kovarian groaned when Anthony chucked a building block at her.

“Good shot, mate!“ The Doctor grinned and gave him a high five. Of course, Anthony had refused to go to bed after the excitement.

“Sorry, just got to finish building this transdimensional teleport. Teaching Anthony the basics of temporal engineering as we go. One way trip to Stormcage.“ River explained, gesturing to a circle of electrical components that had been erected around Kovarian. Long cables connected it to the TARDIS. “Unless I get the coordinates wrong… might end up in a sun instead…“ She mused.

“Melody, don’t do it, I…“ Kovarian pleaded.

“You have threatened my family for the last time. This is goodbye, Madame Kovarian, for the last time.“ River finished attaching the cables.

“Good riddance!“ Rory mumbled in agreement.

“Anthony!“ Amy called when the toddler skipped forward and hit a big red button on the contraption. Something no child would be able to resist. Kovarian disappeared in a flash of light!

“Was the teleport even calibrated?!“ The Doctor looked to River who gave a little shrug.

“I’ll check up on her when I’m in Stormcage next… she may have ended up in the cantina rather than an actual cell… but never mind.“ She looked to her parents. “So, how was your date?“

“Certainly less eventful than this.“ Amy shook her head in disbelief.

“Come on, mate, let’s get you to bed.“ The Doctor scooped Anthony up who nuzzled into her neck.

“Doc-tor.“

#Doctor who #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #river song #spaces wives #amy pond #rory williams #madame kovarian #fluff #femslash #family #river x the doctor #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #yowzah #fanfiction #prompt #dw #anthony williams

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flourgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment.

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso.

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them.

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back.

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach.

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief.

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it.

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch.

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys.

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it.

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence.

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.”

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening.

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?��

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @parkerlovebot @alytavzla @yourbiggestspiderfan @silentium-tais-toi @jailcalledlife @orangesodafoam @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @spideydreamers @taciturnspidey @harrisonsoceaneyes

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #marvel #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

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soobmint · 4 years ago

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sober thoughts | choi yeonjun [f] ; [s] friends to lovers! au, 2.05k words

s u m m a r y ; yeonjun has been your best friend for as long as the both of you can remember. he was there when you learned to tie your shoes, when you won your first spelling bee, when you had your first breakup, and when you graduated high school. now you’re both entering your first year of college—as the same old best friends, of course. the catch? yeonjun has conveniently forgotten to mention that he doesn’t quite see you as just a friend anymore.

n o t e ; my version of “suggestive” is still fluff, it’s just a tad more passionate than my normal stuff. i hope you enjoy this little musing of mine! it’s a very light-hearted oneshot that gave me so much joy while writing <3 (it’s almost too short for a oneshot, but definitely too long for a drabble, so i was a bit lost on what to categorize it as haha)

[back to masterlist]

CHOI YEONJUN WAS ALWAYS WAITING FOR YOU.

In elementary school, it was his job to wait for you every time you were running late, often forgetting to grab your backpack before you walked to school with him. He would wait beside of you on the sidewalk when you realized you had left your laces undone, or when he pointed out that your shoes were on the wrong feet.

As a middle schooler, he waited for you outside the orthodontist when you got your braces put on and during the countless checkups you had. And of course, he waited for you a few years later when you had both just entered high school as you got your braces removed. You had rushed out of the office right away, flashing him a big smile as you pointed to your teeth, chanting, “No more braces, Jun!”

When he saw your smile that day, he felt the butterflies for the first time.

Later that year, he waited for you when you were studying together for your first big test. You paced around the room, fretting and tugging at your hair as you complained about not having enough time to study, about the test being too big, about how you were certain you would fail. He waited until you paused for breath before he stood and took hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as he assured you that everything would be fine, that you were the smartest person he knew, so how could you fail?

When he gently held your hands and stared into your wide and sparkling eyes, his heart skipped a beat, and he knew that he liked you as more than a friend.

In your senior year of high school, he waited as you sat together at the bus stop one night, rain pouring down, your head on his shoulder as tears spilled down your cheeks, falling onto the fabric of his shirt, the denim of his jeans, the skin of his hand. He waited until you had finished telling him all about your first heartbreak. About how the boy who promised to give you the world instead caused it to fall to pieces around you, because you had been certain he was the love of your life, so how could he break your heart in such a terrible way?

He waited until your sobs had slowed to hiccups before he placed a finger under your chin and lifted your face towards his, bringing his hands to hold your cheeks so he could catch your tears with his thumbs.

When he saw your swollen face and felt you tremble from the heartache against his hands that night, he swore that he would do anything he could to restore the promises your jerk of an ex failed to keep. He would catch the very stars in his hands if that’s what it took to bring the light back into your eyes. He would do anything to see your smile, the same one that brought him those first butterflies all those years ago.

It was then that he knew he was helplessly in love with you.

But, as always, Yeonjun knew he would have to wait. He was certain that you did not love him as anything more than a friend.

If he planned to wait for your feelings to mirror his own, he figured he’d be waiting forever.

But what else was he to do?

YOU WERE LATE FOR MOVIE NIGHT, AND YEONJUN WAS GROWING ANXIOUS AS HE WAITED FOR YOU TO SHOW UP.

Since you had both started college together a month ago, you had agreed to make time once a week for movies on Friday nights at six o’clock. They were usually hosted at your house, but this week, Yeonjun had invited you to his apartment so he could show off his new T.V.

He had excitedly prepared your favorite drinks and your favorite movie snack—popcorn with M&Ms mixed in. He had to carefully pick out all of the red M&Ms by hand. It was an old habit; as kids, red dye had always made you exceptionally hyper. Whenever you ate M&Ms, he would pick out the red ones and eat them, leaving the rest for you. No matter how many times you told him that it didn’t effect you any longer, he refused to change his ways.

“After all that trouble, you’re not even going to show up?” He mumbled from where he sat upside down on the couch, his head on the floor, legs stuck straight up in the air. He glanced at his phone, pouting at the lack of a text or call from you. It was twenty minutes past six.

After a moment of debating, he decided to try calling you. He was shocked when you picked up right away.

“Jun!” You said cheerfully, the volume in your voice louder than he had expected.

He pulled the phone away from his ear with a grimace before answering with, “Where are you?”

“I was just about to call you! Some friends of mine dragged me to the bar, and I didn’t get a chance to tell you’d I’d be running a bit late,” you explained.

“The bar?” Yeonjun furrowed his brows, swinging his legs down so that he could sit up straight. You had a tendency to say—and do—odd things when you were under the influence, so you usually avoided drinking in public. He found it odd that you’d go out drinking so unexpectedly, and with such little resistance.

“Don’t worry! I’m on my way to your place right now,” you assured him. “Actually, I’m here now! Could you ring me in?”

“Mm,” Yeonjun hummed, standing to his feet as he ended the call. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling more nervous than he usually did at the thought of you coming over. In the past, whenever you were drunk and around him, you would get really close to him, touch his arm, lean in when you spoke to him, and hug him way more than usual. Of course, he didn’t mind these things. But he was afraid every time that he’d accidentally let his guard slip and end up telling you the secret that he’d been keeping from you for years; he was in love with you.

With a sigh, he buzzed you in, doing his best to steel his nerves before you walked in.

He was already back on the couch and turning the T.V. on when you burst through his door, slamming it shut behind you as you tore your shoes off and slid your feet into the pair of slippers you kept at his apartment. He glanced at you over his shoulder, unable to stop the grin that spread across his lips at the sight of you rushing about.

“Yeonjun!” You shouted, stumbling over your feet and nearly falling to the floor as you ran to the living room. You planted yourself firmly in front of him, blocking his view of the T.V.

“Hey, move over would you?” He griped, swatting at the air in front of you with his hand. “I’m trying to get the movie started.”

“I have something to say first.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, curiosity biting at the back of his mind. But, he remembered that you had been out drinking, and decided that anything you planned to tell him was probably a result of the alcohol in your bloodstream. Not wanting to put himself in a compromising situation, he shook his head quickly, pouting. “Just wait ‘til after the movie, alright? You’re already twenty minutes late, you’re lucky I didn’t start it without you—“

He stopped in the middle of his sentence when you tore the remote from his grasp, switched the power off, and threw it to the ground. He watched, slack-jawed and dumbfounded, as the remote slid off under the recliner on the other side of the room.

“What—what are you doing?” He asked. Slowly, he raised a finger at you. “This always happens when you drink. Next time, I’m not letting you in my house drunk—”

He was cut off once again, breath caught in his throat as you leaned forward, placing both hands against the back of the couch on either side of him. He leaned back right away, but even with his back pressed fully into the cushion behind him, your nose was brushing against his, lips a breath away.

“What are you doing?” He asked again, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Your eyes searched his for a moment.

And then, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

He gasped against your mouth, and he could have sworn that his heart went still before it began pounding against his chest at triple the normal rate. It was a moment that he had imagined for years; lying in his bed late at night, wondering what it would feel like to have your lips against his, the smell of your perfume encircling him, the feeling of having you so close to him, of your body moving closer, your lips growing insistent as they moved over his own.

But now that it was happening, it was all wrong.

It took everything within him to bring his hands up to your shoulders and gently push you back, breaking the kiss. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, something similar to the hurt he had seen after your first breakup present in your gaze. He glanced away, hands gripping the fabric of your shirt sleeves.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I thought—I just thought that you maybe felt the same way.”

“It’s not that,” He said quietly as he slowly brought his eyes back to meet yours, lips still tingling with the memory of your kiss. He glanced down at your lips, swallowing before he said, “You’re drunk.”

You furrowed your brows at him, tilting your head to the side. “I’m not drunk.” You narrowed your eyes. “Are you drunk?”

He blinked once, then twice. “N-No? But you said you were out at the bar—”

“Yes, as the babysitter for my friends,” you finished for him, a smile breaking across your lips. “I drove all of them home before coming straight here. I didn’t have anything to drink, Jun.”

He was quiet and still as he tried to process what you had just said. In an instant he had leaned forward, his lips capturing yours in a swift kiss that caught you off guard and caused you to stumble back a bit.

He pulled away quickly, swiping his thumb across his lips as the gears began to turn like crazy in his mind.

He tasted no alcohol when he kissed you. Only the overpowering flavor of the cheap mint toothpaste that you always used.

That meant you had been sober the whole time.

That meant you had wanted to kiss him.

In a flash, his hands were on the sides of your face, his lips covering yours in another kiss as he stood to his feet, bringing you up with him. His kiss was desperate, his lips moving against yours feverishly, trying to make up for all the years they had spent waiting to touch yours. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to walk forward, hands pressing you up against him as he backed you up.

He moved forward, lips never leaving yours, until your back met the wall behind you. His hands traveled up your sides as he moved to kiss the corners of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw. He exhaled against your neck when your hands moved to his hair, tangling in the long threads and pulling on them gently. He placed his arms against the wall on either side of your face, caging you in as he moved his lips back up to yours, catching your bottom lip in his teeth.

He kissed you with all the passion and adoration he had been harboring for so long. After all those years of hoping and dreaming, of wishing and wondering, he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Because Choi Yeonjun no longer had to wait for you, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment ever again.

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun oneshot #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun au #yeonjun suggestive #txt oneshots #txt #tomorrow x together #txt drabbles #txt au #friends to lovers #oneshots #college au #kpop oneshots #soobmint

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goddessofmischief · 4 years ago

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Noah, Part Six - Peter Maximoff x Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

...

When you were kids, you and Peter had lived under the same roof for almost five years.

And this was the longest he had ever gone without talking to you.

It was absolutely...

Unnatural.

You knew he’d interrogated Noah - something you wanted to be mad about, but just couldn’t be.

Peter deserved answers, and you felt guilty for not giving them to him. Especially after you'd seen the way he looked at you, the night you went out to dinner with Alex.

The night you explained everything.

But if Peter was allowed to grill your son...

Well, couldn't you?

“Hey, Noah,” you said, crouching down beside your son. “I know you’ve kinda... noticed, that things have been a little different.”

“What,” said Noah, in his soft, lispy voice. “What, that you and Daddy aren’t together anymore?”

Your eyes widened, and you released him, feeling as if you’d been burned.

“Daddy? Why’d you.. why would you call him that?”

He shrugged. It was the saddest thing you’d ever seen.

“I don’t know. He's around all the time and he teaches me things...”

“Well, so do I!”

“You protect me, Mommy. You protect me, an’... an’ you fight the bad people. It’s different.”

Noah sounded so sure. You wished you could be as certain as he was.

“What about Alex, huh?” you asked, smoothing his hair down. “Did you like him? He was cool, right?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

You huffed.

“Can I see Da-”

“Peter,” you corrected, forcefully.

“Can I go see Peter now? He’s s’posed to teach me today -- how to play tennis by myself.” “Don’t you want to spend the afternoon together, love? We could... we could read. You like that... don't you?”

Noah shrugged again.

“I guess so. I don’t really have to learn it, anyway. Peter says as long as he’s around, I’ll never have to play by myself.”

Your eyes welled up with tears.

“Well,” you managed, “I guess... I guess you’d better go.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Yeah, ‘Oah. I’ll be fine. I’ll just... stay in.”

“Sure you don’t want to come?” asked Noah.

You shook your head. He leaned in, whispering in your ear, as if he was going to tell you a secret.

“B’cause... Peter said he misses you.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t smile.

...

Okay...

So Peter Maximoff was kind of an incredible tennis instructor.

And surprisingly patient, in a way he never had been with you.

“Okay, buddy - that was great, but just a little to the left - oh,” he muttered, noticing you. “Hey, Y/N.”

You gave him a half-hearted wave.

“Peter,” said Noah, seriously, “You promised we could do some racing.”

“I know, buddy, but... it’s kinda windy today. It’s not the best conditions.”

Noah crossed his arms, pouting.

“Okay,” said Peter, giving in. “Alright... meet you back here?”

“Meet you,” agreed Noah, taking off.

Several moments passed. You couldn’t see either of them, but... suddenly, you felt a sharp burst of pain in Noah’s mind.

Within moments, Peter reappeared speeding out of the woods, carrying your son.

“The dummy broke his arm,” said Peter.

...

“He’ll be okay,” said Peter, attempting to comfort you. “S’ not so bad. One of the disadvantages of our powers are... you break a lot of stuff. Often limbs.”

You smiled, slightly.

“I know. He’s a tough kid. But I’m gonna wait up with him, anyway. As a kid, when I was sick, or hurt... I needed a lot of attention.”

“Oh, I remember,” Peter chuckled. “We thought you were dying.”

“Wow.”

“Well, you were kinda dramatic.”

“Oh, like you weren’t, at that age.”

He shrugged.

“That’s, uh... that’s fair. Listen... if you’re staying with Noah tonight... you want me to stay?”

“Why?” you asked, bluntly.

Peter shrugged, again.

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

Hesitantly, you allowed Peter to sit down on the couch, beside you, tucking your head into his shoulder.

When you woke in the morning, he was gone.

...

You knew it was time to go.

Xavier had taught Noah enough to control his powers, you reasoned. Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you'd hoped for - but he wasn't a full fledged X-Man yet, after all. He had time.

And, most importantly, you had fulfilled your duty as a mother.

You had ensured that Noah was safe.

Sure, you wouldn’t be able to pursue learning your own skills - but did that really matter?

A nagging voice in your head (probably Jean) told you that it did.

It also told you that you were running away from your problems, like you always had.

And also that you should brush your teeth.

“I don’t understand, Mom,” said Noah, reluctantly taking your hand. “Why do we have to go?”

“Because we’re done, love. We accomplished... what we came here to do. It’s time to go back to the real world. We can’t hide here forever.”

He nodded, slowly, and you hoped he understood.

“...Is Peter coming?”

You threw Noah’s suitcase in the trunk of your car with a thunk.

"No,” you said, quietly. “No, he’s... he’s not.”

Noah’s face went blank.

“What? Mom, we can’t-”

“That’s all, Noah. I’ve made up my mind.”

You helped him into his car-seat and climbed into the front, taking one last look at the Mansion before driving away.

Quietly, Noah began to hum something.

“That’s pretty,” you mused, softly. “What is it?”

“A song Peter taught me. He said it was your song.”

You swallowed.

Noah began to sing.

“If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do... is to save every day, till eternity passes away... just to spend ‘em with you...”

Oh, no fair.

Peter was playing dirty.

“But there never seems to be enough time... to do the things you wanna do, once you find ‘em... I’ve looked around enough to know, that you’re the one I want to go through time with...”

Turn back, your brain was screaming. Turn back, turn back, turn back-

A car pulled up alongside you.

And it was Peter’s head that hung from the window, a megaphone pressed to his lips.

“Pull over!”

“What?!”

He almost ran you off the road.

“Pull over!”

"Mom?” asked Noah, in an eerily calm voice. “Are we gonna die?”

“No, love,” you said, decisively, pulling the car over. “No, I’m just gonna kill Peter, that’s all.”

“Y/N, I have to talk to you-”

“Are you crazy!” you yelled, slamming the door behind you. “Who drives like that? Are you-”

“Listen to me!” Peter shouted, jumping out of his car.

“I love you! And I don’t care that Noah’s not my son, okay? I’ll raise a hundred children, Y/N. With a hundred of your boyfriends, if it means I can be with you.”

Your eyes welled up with tears.

“...Can you put that down?”

“THIS EXPRESSES HOW LOUDLY I LOVE YOU!”

“It’s too loud,” you whispered, trying not to smile.

He knelt down, opening up a small, metal box.

“This is the Hope diamond,” Peter said, seriously, “And I stole it. But Xavier told me that it’s worth kind of a lot, and I don’t know if that means anything... but I thought it looked kinda cool, and I wanted you to have it-”

“Okay,” you agreed, quickly. “Okay, yes, yes, I will!”

You threw your arms around Peter’s neck and kissed him, deeply.

“I love you!” you shouted, feeling every emotion cross over you at once.

“I love you!” he shouted back, so happy he could barely breathe.

“And... I lied to you.”

“What?”

“Noah’s your son.”

Peter's express went blank.

“What? Why would you say-”

“I just needed you to want to marry me... because you wanted to marry me.”

He stumbled back, looking dazed - and for a moment, you were afraid you’d lost him.

“Get out!” Peter shouted, suddenly, absolutely screaming with happiness. “I’m a dad!”

“You’re a dad!”

This time, it was Peter that threw his arms around you, and you reciprocated.

...

Hey guys! Just a reminder, the story doesn’t end here.

I’m gonna continue to write in the ‘Noah’ timeline, but you can find the whole series under the title ‘All and Then Most Of You’ in my masterlist.

I plan to cover Peter and reader’s time at Xavier’s, and of course, their life as a family!

Many of these fics will be standalones that fit with the overall series

If you have any ideas for the series, or adventures that Peter, Noah and Reader should go on, please send ‘em in!

Also, credit to the Office. As I mentioned in the first chapter, I borrowed some of the dialogue for this chapter from one of the last episodes.

...

Taglist:

@fangirl593-at-221b @amourtentiaa @that-random-nerdy-person @no-mercy-bby

#stay tuned #noah maximoff #it feels PHENOMENAL to finally write that tag #I'm gonna retag all my other chapters #peter maximoff #evan peters x reader #evan peters #noah #peter maximoff masterlist #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff x reader #noah ?#peter maximov #peter maximov x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel studios #marvel comics

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

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The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

The tricky thing is yesterday we were just children

But now we've stepped into a cruel world

Where everybody stands and keeps score

So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard

Every lesson forms a new scar

They never thought you'd make it this far

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Summary: Planning for something in theory is easy... putting it into practice? That’s where the weak are separated from the strong.

A/n: Hello my lovelies! So here is the second part to the last chapter!! If I had posted it all at once it would have been over 20k words so... yeah. I split them up. Also, this gets pretty dark and well, we all know how HBP ends... so I guess that’s a warning. And to add, this went in a completely different direction than I planned, but now it’s closer to my original idea so... Let me know what you guys think! Seriously, I thrive on your approval. (Also, I’d like to see if someone notices a MAJOR problem for these two kids... because I barely caught it myself)

“Oh, my darling boy,” Narcissa crooned, nearing Draco’s bedside. She took his hand though he was in a spell induced coma and could not hear her.

“I’m so sorry Narcissa,” I teared up. “I...”

“Snape explained it all my dear,” She consoled, reaching out for me. “You have nothing to apologize for,”

I all but collapsed in her arms, breaking down into tears as she held me. Though Abby and Pansy—as well as many others including Ernie, Blaise, Greg, Vincent, and Hannah—had comforted me and offered me a solace, it was different having a mother there to hold me and tell me it was going to be alright.

“It was awful,” I sniveled. “I thought... I thought...” I began to hiccup with the lack of oxygen due to my tears.

Narcissa shushed me softly and rubbed my back in a soothing rhythm.

“You’re alright darling,” Her voice was gentle. “Everything’s going to be alright,”

She stayed for the remainder of the night and came back the next day. I was only allowed a day off from classes before I had to return though Draco had still not woken. Though I knew there would be rumors and whispers, and though I expected to have to retell the harrowing story again and again, everyone already seemed to know. And more surprisingly, each student I came across was sympathetic and kind to me and even towards Draco, wanting to know how he was faring. Yet the thing that took me back the most was the amount of Gryffindors who offered their sympathies to Draco, rather than siding with their own Golden Boy. Even McGonagall offered her sympathies.

And for the most part, I completely ignored Harry. The best I could. Which... well. I’d like to say that I did, but I can’t. To be fair, he did try to talk to me on my first day back, two days after his attempted murder.

“Y/n,” He rushed out in the Great Hall as I sat down with Pansy and Abby.

“You need to stay away from me,” I gritted out, glowering at him. “You’re a coward!”

“Look, I didn’t know what the spell would do, okay?”

“No! That’s not okay!” I stood. “You almost killed him! And you would have! Why in Merlin’s name would you use a spell if you didn’t know what it did!?” Bristling, Abby had to place her hand on my arm before I drew my own wand. Her gentle hand allowed me a moment to take a deep breath and cam myself, ever so slightly. “Just get out of here Harry. Don’t... don’t talk to me,”

“Come on, mate, let’s go,” Ron pulled Harry’s arm back, sensing the rising tension in his best friend.

“You’re... you’re not really going to...” Abby asked softly as we sat back down. “About being the bad guy?” She was almost timid to ask.

I sighed and shook my head.

“No,” I admitted. “I just said it because I was mad and scared. I’m not gonna go off and join the Dark Lord,” a sad smile played at my lips. “I... I feel like I have no choice... This path was forced into me because of Precious Potter and I... I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to be broken... but I don’t want to be walked on,”

“And you don’t have to be,” Pansy encouraged. “We all have your back,” Pansy nodded to the Hall. “We’re on your side,”

“I don’t want there to be sides!” I dismayed, scrubbing my face. “I don’t want to be divided because we still do have the same enemy and...” I let out a sharp breath in defeat. “When did it all become so complicated?”

Abby said nothing but wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my shoulder.

“It’ll all work out, you’ll see,” She encouraged, sharing a look with Pansy. “For all of us.”

After dinner, as I always did, I went and saw Draco. His steady grey eyes trailed me as I rounded his cot.

“Hey,” He offered softly as I slipped my hand into his. Despite his many blankets and long sleeves, his hands were still ice cold.

“Hey,” I echoed sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” There was little confidence in his voice. “How’s class without me?” I scoffed and stared at the intricate carvings on the pillars of the infirmary.

“It’s not the same... nothing is the same...” The depressing thought left my lips before I could stop it. “I do miss walking to class with you though,” A small smile played at my lips at my gaze returned to him.

Wordlessly I reached out and brushed a few stray hairs from his face, my fingers ghosting over the pale pink scar that ran along the side of his face. Maybe fortune was on our side because though his skin was marred with scars, the spell hadn’t left permanent damage to his senses. His skin was still chilled under my touch.

“You’re still cold,” I murmured. “Do you want tea? Another blanket? I’m sure there’s a warming potion around here somewhere,”

“I’m alright,” His lips tugged upward. “Pomfrey and Snape said that it might happen, because of the Dark Magic...”

Worrying my lip, I nodded and intertwined my fingers with his pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“What’s on your mind?” His question was soft.

“Nothing and everything,” I smiled. “Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing... but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music...”

“Haven’t read that one in a while,” Draco mused softly. “I think they’re having a show in London over the summer holiday...”

I wanted to snap at him. I wanted to say that it was stupid to think about the summer. It was foolish to think we’d survive the semester. That going to the opera shouldn’t be a plan we made on some false hope that we’d actually make it.

But I didn’t.

Instead I entertained the idea. Just for a while. Even if it would hurt later.

“You’d take me then?” I mused.

“Well, of course,” Draco smiled, enjoying that I was playing along. “Of course, Pansy and Abby would come with us,”

I laughed softly at the thought. The false memory of the four of us in some opera house amidst twinkling lights, dressed lavishly, laughing and having fun. I could see myself on Draco’s arm as he held his head high, smiling soft at my antics. I could almost hear Pansy scolding Abby for her poor etiquette. I could almost feel the thrum of the music in my soul and the magic of the performance before me as I was enraptured again by another story.

“I’d like that,” I whispered softly, tears stinging my eyes.

“Then think of it done,”

A silence fell between us.

“Can I stay here tonight?” I asked softly.

“Would you expect me to say anything but yes?” He quirked an eyebrow.

Curled up in his arms, again I thought of everything and nothing, utterly exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically. Draco still offered a sweet comfort that I had never found in anyone else. A comfort that quelled my anxieties and allowed me to sleep soundly.

“Told you she would be here,” I heard Pansy whisper harshly. “It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve done it,”

“Yes, yes, you’re so smart,” Abby said flatly. “They’re still precious, aren’t they? Even now,”

There wasn’t a response. I shifted through my sleep logged thoughts and blinked my eyes open. Draco was still fast asleep beside me, his mouth hanging slightly open as gentle breaths passed through his lips. Abby and Pansy were forgotten as I watched Draco bathed I the soft morning light.

“Hey Feathers, Dumbledore wants to see you,” Abby nudged my arm. “I don’t think it’s good either.”

Fear and dread struck my heart as I froze.

“Did he say why?” I squeaked out, carefully slipping out of the bed, not to rouse Draco.

“No, just that it was a serious matter,” Abby frowned at me. “Are you okay?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?” I mumbled. “Please stay with him, tell him where I am when he wakes up. And if he tries to come and find me, make sure he doesn’t. He’s still healing,”

Timidly I made my way up to Dumbledore’s office, a list of a thousand things that could go wrong sprinting through my mind, willing them all true. Those thoughts however, changed and funneled when I saw that I wasn’t alone in his office with him. No, Harry, Snape, and McGonagall were all present along with the old headmaster.

“Miss Y/l/n, thank you for joining us,” Dumbledore smiled kindly.

“Yeah... okay,” I closed the door behind me. “What’s this about?”

“What happened in Myrtle’s bathroom,” Snape informed with a monotone voice. “Though I have thoroughly explained that what Harry did to Mr. Malfoy was much worse and you acted in self- defense,”

“Uh... okay...” My eyebrows furrowed. “What exactly did I do?”

“What did you do? You used an Unforgivable!” McGonagall dismayed.

“You tortured me!” Harry exclaimed.

“You attempted to murdered Draco!” I shot back. “What was I supposed to do!?”

“As I said, she acted in self-defense.” Snape cut the tension with his calmed voice.

“That wasn’t self-defense, that was malicious intent,” Harry growled. “You have to mean the curse for it to do any damage,”

“Oh yes, and I’m sure your use of Dark Magic is completely justified,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “And are you really going to play the victim when I have every right to loathe you?”

“Miss Y/l/n,” Dumbledore interjected. “We are not here to point fingers, but rather here the entire story. Both sides.”

“Why isn’t Sprout here?” I looked around. “She’s my Head of House... shouldn’t she be here?”

“This isn’t a House matter,” Snape clarified. “This is a matter of the Order,”

“Of which you are a member,” McGonagall finished. “Now please, your side of the story,”

My mind processed this information then I began my tale.

“Draco was having a panic attack, so I led him to the nearest quiet place that I could find—”

“Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?” McGonagall clarified and I nodded.

“I was comforting Draco—walking him through grounding and Harry burst into the bathroom. Draco got defensive of me, drawing his wand, and Harry cast a hex at the two of us... I remember telling Draco to stop... there was water everywhere. And then Harry,” I glanced over to the golden boy who was sulking in his chair. “Cast whatever awful spell that was. I didn’t think. The Unforgivable was the first spell that came to mind...” I paused, drawing in a sharp breath. “Then there was so much blood. Merlin...” I wrung my hands together in a desperate attempt to wash my clean hands of blood that was no longer there. “I did cast the spell, and I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m sorry for hurting you, but not for defending Draco,”

“I see,” Dumbledore nodded. “Well, it seems that all’s well that ends well,”

Harry and I both sputtered, glaring each other down.

“She should be going to Azkaban!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh, you should really keep your comments to yourself Potter,” I snarled.

“If I remember correctly Mr. Potter, you also cast an Unforgivable at Bellatrix not last year,” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow at a fuming Harry who instantly fizzled out.

“You cast an Unforgivable and you have the nerve to accuse me! Oh, stars above Harry where does it end with you!?”

“That doesn’t count! She was trying to kill me! She killed Sirius!”

I stared at him in quelled anger. “Funny,” My voice was calm and even. “I could have sworn I did it for the same reasons,” I watched the color drain from his face. “But I get it, I’m not the Chosen One, I don’t get free passes, do I?”

“Miss Y/n,” McGonagall warned.

“Am I free to go? I need to get back to Draco,” I looked to Snape.

He gave a seldom and I rushed out of the office, practically running back to the hospital wing. Abby caught me in her arms, stilling me outside the door.

“Hey, talk to me,” She demanded. “What happened?”

“Harry needs to mind his own damn business,” I growled. “He told that I used an Unforgivable against him after he tried to kill Draco. After he already used one last year! And he has the nerve—”

“Y/n?” Draco’s shaky voice was a lot closer than I thought it would be. It had to mean that he was up and walking.

“Dray?” My anger softened to concern and hope. “Draco what are you doing up?”

“You could have given us more of a warning about how much he would fight us after telling him that Dumbledore wanted to speak to you,” Pansy muttered, Draco’s arm slung around her shoulder.

“Sorry?” I offered, taking Draco’s weight, freeing Pansy. “You need to stay in bed,” I scolded him softly.

“How could you think that I would? How could you just leave?” His voice was trembling and uncertain.

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” I led him back to his cot, setting him down gently. “Forgive me?”

He nodded as I pulled the blanket back over him. Pansy and Abby aided me in getting him settled again.

“This is so stupid,” He groaned. “I should be there with you,”

“A few more days, my love,” I comforted softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Then you’ll be back beside me,”

__________________________________

Draco’s eyes met the plated silver. His reflection mocking him. His pale skin was decorated— was that the right word? Ruined, perhaps—with faded pinkish scars.

Of course, his mother had been livid. Visiting him in the hospital wing more days than not until he was medically cleared to go back to class, she was there, pacing, muttering, threatening, demanding.

Your sentiments matched his mother’s but ever since the fateful day that Harry had taken him inches from death, you had gone silent with a cold ruthless fury. A look that only faded from your eyes when they met his. Then adoration was evident. Love and dedication was evident. Kindness.

As he stared at his reflection, the phantom memory of pain danced along his skin.

“Hey there handsome,” Your gentle voice caught his attention. Catching the sight of you in the mirror he turned, leaning against the vanity.

“I don’t remember you ever calling me that before,” He mused, slightly teasing—part of him wondering if you were just saying it to make him feel better.

“I know you Draco,” You pressed off the doorjamb you were leaning against and took his hands. “Self-assured, confident, absolutely gorgeous,” A smirk hinted at your lips. “But I know you’re unsteady right now.” Gently your fingers traced the scars on his hands trailing up his arm making him shudder.

“And what of you?” He asked softly, bringing your hand to his lips pressing a kiss there softly, reveling in the warmth of your skin; something that he had lost, his skin retaining an icy chill with the dark magic that plagued it.

“What of me?” You countered softly. “I’m quite assured that I’m beautiful to those who matter to me... call it vanity,”

A chuckle escaped his lips, your words reminding him of Pansy. “No, that’s no mystery. You are stunning,” Your arms draped lazily around his shoulders as you waited for him to continue. “Are you okay? I know you, and you’ve been... I don’t know. Withdrawn? Distracted?”

He feared the anger that flashed in your eyes until you seemed to blink it away. With the fluttering of your eyelashes the ire turned to sorrow. Your shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath you took.

“I’m tired of being walked on. I’m tired of people underestimating me. Of thinking I’m harmless or weak.” You paused but then your eyes met his pleading, “I know who I am, I really do. I’m just tired of other people not seeing it.”

Draco smiled at you, reaching up and caressing your cheek delicately. “And?” He knew you had more on your mind.

“I’ve had enough of Harry thinking he can get away with anything.”

Draco nodded. Before his prejudices against Potter had been just that—prejudices. Now? Now they went so much deeper. The hurt and pain that Harry had caused to you and him was something that couldn’t be brushed off. Draco’s anger matched yours when thinking of Potter, but maybe the difference was he had never seen it from the outside looking in.

“He almost killed you Draco,” Your voice wavered. “If Snape hadn’t shown up, you would have...” Tears pricked your eyes and you quickly shut them. “I can’t... I can’t lose you... and I never want to feel helpless like that again,”

Draco cupped your face softly, your eyes meeting his as quiet streams of tears trailed down your cheeks.

“And you won’t have to, but my love,” He sighed softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead before drawing you into his arms, “I don’t want you to lose yourself... I know you’re angry, and I know you’re scared... I know you wish it would all just go away, because I do too,” He sighed deeply. “But we can’t lose focus on who we are,”

“When did you become the wise grounded one?” You pouted into his shoulder, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Some girl brought me back down to Earth,” He mused.

“Must have been some girl,” He could hear the smile in your voice.

“Oh, she’s quite wonderful, I think you’d love her. I know I do,”

“Sap,” You accused, smiling up at him.

“And yet you love me anyway,”

“I do,” You pressed up on your toes, your lips brushing against his softly.

The day that he returned to class, as expected, he got plenty of stares. Students gawking at him and whispering behind his back. Not that it was new for him. But maybe you were right—he was unsteady. You still held his hand in the halls though, and still looked at him as you would a piece of artwork. And whenever he became uncertain about his appearance your gently smile and soft kisses created phantom memories that kept him grounded.

“Ginny and Harry are together,” Hannah gave off hand one day at dinner.

Draco’s eyebrows raised in surprised. Your face soured a bit as your eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where sure enough Harry and Ginny were sitting together amidst their friends. He pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you a bit closer. The pout didn’t leave your face, but your focus reverted back to your friends before you.

Draco hadn’t spoken to or gone near Harry since he had been back to class. The only real struggle was Potions, but Harry seemed content on ignoring him, and with Ernie as Draco’s partner, Draco’s thoughts weren’t consumed with Harry. Ernie was actually quite pleasant in class, Draco had to admit. Though he was a bit reckless and impulsive in a childlike manor, but he wasn’t impossible for Draco to work with. In fact, Draco almost preferred to work with Ernie because Ernie didn’t treat him any differently after his near-death experience. It was a vein of normalcy.

“This should work,” You lowered your wand, running your hand over the mended Vanishing Cabinet. “We should be done,”

His eyes met yours. There was hope in your warm eyes. Draco gave a seldom nod and grabbed an apple from his bag. It was the first test. Though weeks ago, the apple had made it to Borgin and Burkes, the live finches you had sent hadn’t survived. You mourned the small birds and buried them beneath your tree by the lake.

The apple was closed behind the wardrobes doors and after counting to thirty, your hand gripped tightly in his, Draco opened the door again and saw that the apple had a slice cut out of it. You let out a steady breath and went to the golden wire cage, with gentle grace setting down the small bird into the wardrobe. You closed your eyes, refusing to watch as he closed the door this time. Thirty seconds again, he opened the door, and the small finch was there, staring up at the two of you, an apple slice in his mouth.

You let out a scream of excitement and joy as you gathered the bird into your hands and kissing its small head before setting it back in the cage to enjoy its treat.

The next was a crow, easily transfigured from a goblet. Draco ser the bird into the cabinet and closed the door yet again. The ruffling of wings faded for twenty seconds until he heard frantic cawing and agitated movements. Throwing open the door, the crow flew out. With a quick flick of your wand the crow was a goblet once more, falling harmlessly into the piles of rubbish around the two of you.

“I have to go,” You breathed out, words that he had been dreading.

“Y/n,” He refuted. “We don’t know if it’ll work for larger animals, Pinnae might not make it.”

“It worked for the crow,” You pointed out. “Pinnae can make it,”

“It’s too dangerous,”

“Draco,” You gave him a flat look. “I need to go,” You took his hands into yours. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be back. If not, I’ll just fly back here from Diagon Alley.”

“You make it sound so simple,” He nuzzled his nose to yours.

“Because it is,” You smiled, pressing your lips to his fleetingly. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Please be careful,” Draco dismayed as your morphed into Pinnae, fluttering into the base of the wardrobe.

Then he closed the door, trapping you in darkness. Thirty seconds had never been so long.

There was a knock on the door then it slowly opened. Your smiling face was shining as you crawled out of the cabinet.

“It works,” You breathed out, amazed.

“By Merlin it works!” Draco exclaimed, spinning you in his arms.

You laughed and held onto him tightly. The two of you celebrated with laughter that turned to tears. When the entire world seemed against you two, at least one thing went right.

“I love you,” You sniffled through tears.

“Stars, I love you too,” He breathed in the scent of you deeply, burying his head in your shoulder. “We’re gonna make it,” He was almost hopeful.

“We’re gonna make it,” You affirmed.

“Who’s there?”

You and Draco froze, staring at each other in paralyzing fear.

“Hello?” The voice called again.

You sagged and let out an aggravated groan. “It’s Trelawney,” Gritting your teeth you let go of him, sighing. “I’ll go see what she wants. You get to Snape and tell him we do this tonight.” There was fierce determination in your eyes.

Draco nodded and watched as you made your way toward the exit. He could hear your faint conversation with the professor. Giving you five minutes head start, Draco slipped from the Room of Hidden Things undetected.

“It’s done,” Draco panted out, catching his breath after nearly running to Snape’s office. “The raid has to be tonight,”

“I see,” Snape rose. “And you’re certain?”

You burst into the office just then, also out of breath. “Harry and Dumbledore are leaving to go find something called—”

“Silencio!” Snape casted the spell on you, proving you mute. Infuriated, Draco drew his wand, stepping between you and the professor. “Calm down, she’s in no harm,” Snape rolled his eyes and lifted the spell. “But be careful with what you speak. It is wise to hold your tongue.”

Fuming, you nodded still.

Draco lowered his wand and took your hand.

“Now, you both know the task ahead of you?” Snape questioned. Silent nods affirmed the question. “Very well. He will be pleased, Draco. Very pleased indeed.” Another silent moment passed. “You have twenty-three minutes.”

Draco took your hand and pulled you into the hallway and along the corridors.

“Go, find Abby. Warn your friends. Warn your house. No one needs to get hurt. We’re already doing enough damage,” His voice was soft and gentle as unshed tears lingered in his eyes.

“I love you,” Your voice broke as he cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours desperately.

The kiss was hasty and despairing. Though neither of you would admit it, you both knew that it was a kiss goodbye. The warmth of your breath against his was the last of your warmth that he expected. The urgency of your fingers in his hair was the last of your comfort that he sought. The taste of your mouth was the last of your sweetness that he accepted. The softness of your lips was the last of your peace that he pursued.

“Twenty-three minutes,” He breathed out before letting you go and heading down to the murky waters of the Slytherin Common Room.

The Mark on his arm burned and Draco knew that Snape had called the others of the raid. A plan set into motion long ago, now coming to fruition.

____________________________

“Y/n!” Abby called my name as you burst into the common room. “What’s going on?”

My friends were all gathered in the common room as Abby tossed to me something small and shiny. A galleon. My galleon. From D.A. I might have cursed.

“How does he even know?” I chucked the galleon into the fire, watching it ricochet a flurry of ashes. My eyes met Abby’s. “It’s tonight,”

She nodded, knowing what it meant, knowing what was expected of her. A plan made long ago, that was now set into motion.

“Okay, this is going to get very bad, very quickly.” My voice trembled as I looked at all of the horror-struck faces before me. “But please, I need you all to keep the younger years safe. I need you to stay out of the halls until Abby comes and gets you.”

“But what about you?” Ernie asked.

“Look, you’re going to hear things. Awful things about Draco and me. And I can’t deny them, nor should I ask for your forgiveness. But please,” Tears streamed down my face. “Believe that everything I’ve worked for... everything I’ve done has been for this family,” I looked around the room. “I don’t have much of one by blood, but you? All of you... you’ve always been my family. And Hogwarts is my home.”

Abby’s arms wrapped around me and I could no longer hold back my tears. Soon there was a massive comfort pile and I was in the center of it. My friends, my family all there, all holding me close.

“So, what do you need us to do?” Taylor asked. I wiped my eyes and stood tall.

“Someone get word to the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors that they need to stay in their dorm. You all have about fifteen minutes to be completely locked down. Cast protection spells. Silencing spells. Comfort younger years. Distract them. Do not take an order from anyone unless it’s Abby. Make sure she is not under a spell before you listen to her.” I glanced over at her. “This is a grave matter and lives are on the line tonight. One of which is mine. I don’t know what will happen tonight, but I won’t be coming back. Not for some while.”

“But why?” I didn’t see where the question came from.

“It will all be revealed soon. I love you all. And I hope that you all can forgive me after tonight. No matter what you think of me, please, don’t forget: have courage and be kind.”

They all nodded. I rushed up to my room, changing quickly into dueling robes, pulling my silver cloak on.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked, tying her hair back.

“I’ll be fine,” I drew her in for a hug. “Please just get out alive,”

“You too kid,” Abby smiled weakly, taking my hand. “Sister for life,”

“Hufflepuffs for life,” I finished, looking back one last time before taking off through the window and into the night.

With a soft thud I landed on Draco’s floor. He was expecting me. We didn’t embrace another, but instead got to work.

“The Hufflepuffs?” He asked.

“Warned and locked down. Word was sent to Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. The Slytherins?”

“Secured.” Draco affirmed. “Seven minutes,”

“Okay,” I nodded. “The Mark,”

Draco looked out his opened window and chanted something short and unfamiliar to my ears and I watched as a snake coiled from the end of his wand in a thick green smoke and into the sky merging with a skull. I took his hand, standing beside him.

“I still don’t want to kill him,” Draco confessed. “But I’ll do anything to keep you safe,”

“Draco don’t worry about me. Your mother and I have a plan if things go wrong.” It was an easy lie as I met his confused grey eyes. I smiled softly. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“The Astronomy tower,” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Go,”

I leapt out of his window again and circled the school, patrolling, watching two figures on brooms land on the tower I was destined for. The quiet night was eerily quiet as I landed, perched on a sill, watching Harry and a frail looking Dumbledore. I almost slipped out of Pinnae because of the regret that fluttered in my chest, but it was easily pushed aside.

I watched as Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral staircase, his hand just meeting the door as I heard running footsteps from the door opposite to Harry. My eyes trained and waiting for Draco missed whatever had caused Harry to keep fleeing.

“Expelliarmus!” Draco shouted, and I sprang into action, catching the wand in my claws and settling back on the sill.

Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, “Good evening, Draco,”

Draco stepped forward glancing over to me then to the empty room. He was making sure that we were alone. I wanted to warn him that Harry was close, but I couldn’t not yet. Draco seemed to figure this out on his own however, as his eyes fell upon the second broom.

“Who else is here?” He demanded.

“A question I might ask you.” Dumbledore eyed me before his attention reverted back to Draco. “Surely you’re not acting alone,”

“No,” Draco said. “I’ve got backup.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said as if Draco’s actions were praiseworthy. “And won’t you join us Miss Y/n?”

Draco glanced to me, panicked. That wasn’t a part of the plan. I wasn’t to be human at all. No one was supposed to know that I was there. Not the Order or the Death Eaters and certainly not Bellatrix.

“I know that it’s you my dear, you might as well join us,”

It was a wildcard neither Draco nor I were expecting. Draco gave a seldom nod, looking utterly defeated. Against my better judgement, I morphed back human, wand in my hand as I took my place at Draco’s side, adrenaline and anxiety threading through my chest.

“You always were such a talented witch,” Dumbledore praised. “I assume you had a hand in this plan, finding a way to get the other Death Eaters into my school?”

“Yes,” I answered, my voice shaking.

“You do complicate things don’t you my dear,” Dumbledore’s eyes fell upon me. “To think if Mr. Malfoy never had you, what would have become of him.”

“I don’t dwell on what might have been,” My eyes narrowed at the frail headmaster. “But rather what is to come,”

“Ah yes, your little job,” A twisted smile curled on his face. “Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,” said Dumbledore softly.

Confusion flitted across my face. Did Dumbledore know what we were here to do? How long had he known? Why the bloody hell hadn’t he said anything? A tense silence fell between us and I could faintly hear the fighting of Death Eaters and The Order occur somewhere below. I winced at the mental images.

“Draco, you are not a killer.” Dumbledore smiled. The words sounded cruel coming from his mouth rather than mine. Condescending.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Draco snarled, gripping his wand tightly.

“Oh yes, I do,” said Dumbledore mildly. “You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley—”

“That wasn’t us,” I interjected. “You really think I’d allow that?”

“Well you are here to kill me, are you not?”

Silently I seethed, gritting my teeth.

“It wasn’t us,” Draco replied coldly. “And we never figured out who it was,”

“Very curious,” Dumbledore mused. “But you were saying . . . yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible...How did you do it?”

Neither of us said anything. The echoes of the fight below were deafening. My blood ran cold, torn between who I needed to win. One to protect Draco and I. One to protect my family.

“Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone,” Dumbledore taunted. “What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too,”

“The Order is here?” Frowning I met ancient blue eyes.

“You think I wouldn’t have back up at my own school?”

Betrayal washed through me. I had no idea that the Order was here. That they were the guard against the raid that was merely a plan b. I never wanted them to get hurt. Why wasn’t I told that they were here? Wasn’t I apart of the Order as well? Then it dawned on me.

“You... you manipulated me!” I shouted. “You never wanted me as a part of the Order! You just wanted to keep an eye one me! Never for one moment did you believe in me!”

Draco winced at the realization of my words, as he took my hand, grounding me.

“Who was I to go against your father’s wishes?”

“My father is dead because he believed in you,” I spat.

“He died for you. Not me.”

I growled dangerously.

“But never mind all of that,” Dumbledore waved the thought as if it were something easily dismissed. “And after all, you don’t really need help... I have no wand at the moment... I cannot defend myself.”

I ran my fingers over Dumbledore’s wand in my hand. It was urging me on, daring me to cast an Unforgivable. Begging me to. If I didn’t get my fury under control, Draco might not have to kill Dumbledore. Because I would.

A silence fell again.

“I see,” said Dumbledore patronizingly. “You are afraid to act until they join you.”

“I’m not afraid!” Draco snarled, though he still made no move to hurt Dumbledore. “It’s you who should be scared!”

“But why? I don’t think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe... So, tell me, while we wait for your friends... how did you two smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I hissed. “We had the plan since this past summer. We could have easily done it by Christmas, but Draco and I deserved another year together at our home,” My words dripped venom as they met the crisp air.

“We had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one’s used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year.” Draco explained because anger claimed my voice, deeming me silent.

“Ah.” Dumbledore’s sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment. “That was clever... There is a pair, I take it?”

“We don’t have to explain anything to you,” I whispered, my eyes closed as I tried to reign in my anger.

“I see,” Dumbledore smiled. “But I suppose that I was incorrect when I assumed that you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet and acted rashly? It does leave me to wonder who did almost kill Ms. Bell and Mr. Weasley.”

Draco’s grip on my hand tightened. He didn’t like the loose end any more than I did. “If you suspected us, why didn’t you stop us then?” Draco demanded.

“I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders —”

“He hasn’t been doing your orders, he promised my mother--”

“Of course, that is what he would tell you, Draco, but—”

“But nothing!” I interrupted. “I think Narcissa means a bit more to Snape than you do,”

“We must agree to differ on that, my dear. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape —”

“That’s marvelous,” I deadpanned. “But trust isn’t the same as loyalty,”

“Isn’t it though?” The old professor seemed as if he were having a hard time standing on his own without the help of the railing. I almost offered my aid. “But as for being bout to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted...”

Draco glanced to me and a gave a soft smile. The fear and uncertainty in his eyes caused my anger to morph into a fierce protection.

“I see,” Dumbledore went on. “I wonder why Voldemort has let you live so long Miss Y/n. You really do hinder Draco from what is expected of him,”

“Shut your mouth!” Draco snapped. “She is the cleverest, most brilliant witch I’ve met! If anything, she pushes me past what I should be and into who I am!”

“And who are you Mr. Malfoy? Are you a killer?” Neither of us answered. “There is little time, one way or another,” said Dumbledore. “So, let us discuss your options, Draco.”

“My options!” Draco scoffed. “I’m standing here with a wand—I’m about to kill you—”

“My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means.”

Draco’s aspiration to kill Dumbledore might be fading, but my desire for it was growing with each moment that passed as I untangled a web of lies and manipulation in silence about the frail headmaster before me.

“I haven’t got any options!” Draco despaired. “I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill her! He’ll kill my mother!”

“I appreciate the difficulty of your position,” said Dumbledore. “Why else do you—”

“No,” The fury in my voice was cold and unforgiving. “Don’t. You. Dare. Don’t you dare make yourself the martyr. You have no idea the hell Draco and I have been through together. Your chosen one almost killed him for Merlin’s sake, and you have nerve to offer a false kindness? As if you were blameless? As if you understood?”

“No, you can’t,” Draco agreed to the weight of my words.

“Come over to the right side,” Dumbledore continued as if I had never spoken, “and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban...When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, you are not a killer...”

“Like you protected my father?” I whispered softly. “When will you see we are on the side of good. But we’re not on your side.”

Dumbledore did not speak. His mouth was open, still trembling, as if to find the right words to manipulate us back to his side.

But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs, Draco and I turned, in fear. We were both buffeted out of the way as four black robes burst through the door.

It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.

A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle. “Dumbledore cornered!” he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. “Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!”

“Good evening, Amycus,” said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. “And you’ve brought Alecto too... Charming...”

The woman gave an angry little titter. “Think your little jokes’ll help you on your deathbed then?” she jeered.

“Jokes? No, no, these are manners,” replied Dumbledore.

“Do it,” said the stranger standing furthest from me. He had a deep raspy voice and almost barked the words. All of my instincts told me to run from this man.

“Is that you, Fenrir?” asked Dumbledore.

“That’s right,” Fenrir barked, and I understood. Fenrir Greyback, the savage werewolf. “Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?”

“No, I cannot say that I am.”

Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. “But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.”

I choked back a sob, struggling to stand upright. Faces of my family flashed through my mind. Whose blood was on my hands and on his teeth? My world spun as I tried to get it back into order. Draco’s arm wrapped around me, trying to keep me upright.

“Ah, the little harlot,” A familiar voice cooed. “I should have known you’d be the one to stop Draco from his task.”

My eyes flashed up, meeting Bellatrix’s.

“She’s actually helped quite a bit,” Dumbledore interjected. “She has my wand, and she’s the one who made your arrival possible,”

“Shut up you old fool!” Bellatrix sneered. “Now come along little prince, we are short on time,” There was an urgency in her voice that made me hopeful that perhaps the Death Eaters hadn’t won but merely escaped.

“Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us—”

I didn’t take note into who was speaking because just then, from the door that Draco had arrived, came Snape, rushing forward and taking in the scene before him. His eyes met mine then went to Draco’s before settling onto Dumbledore’s.

“Severus...” The plead startled me. My eyes turned to Dumbledore who for the first time tonight was begging.

Snape said nothing but walked forward and pushed Draco and I roughly out of the way. Draco steadied me and we both moved to the back wall, watching the other Death Eaters—even Bellatrix fall back without a word.

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.

“Severus... please...” Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

“Avada Kedavra!” It wasn’t my voice or Draco’s. But rather Snape’s.

Time around me slowed. Or maybe I could register everything around me all at once.

Dumbledore staggered back, falling, falling, falling down. Bellatrix cackled victoriously. Draco was a solace beside me, clinging to me as if I was his only lifeline.

“Out of here, quickly,” Snape ordered, glaring Draco and I down, a snarled look on his face.

He seized Draco’s cloak and forced him first through the door, with me trailing not far behind Draco. I didn’t bother to look who was behind me. Darkness fell over me and I proved blind. All I could do was cling to Draco’s robe and pray that wherever this darkness led, that there was a light somewhere at the end.

The darkness lifted as the starry night sky stretched before me letting me know that I was on the grounds of Hogwarts, not far from Hagrid’s.

“Go! Off the grounds and disapparate!” Snape ordered. “Go home!”

Draco and I stumbled as we ran through the dark. I wished nothing more than to morph into Pinnae and fly away, but I knew it was impossible. Just as we were at the outskirts of the grounds, Draco had to pull me out of the way of a bright red flash.

“Stop righ’ ‘ere!” A gruff voice called.

��Hagrid!” I called in relief until I realized I was no longer wanted here.

“Y/n?” Hagrid seemed just as confused as I was. “Wah are you doin’ ou’ wiff a bunch o’ Death Eaters?”

“I’m so sorry Hagrid,” I yelled into the darkness as Draco and I kept moving towards our freedom. “Take care of Steve, please!”

The distraction was enough to let a few black robes step foot off campus and disapparate. I turned back, a mistake, and saw Harry sprinting towards us, malice and torture in his eyes.

“I was right about you all along!” He shouted. “Don’t you dare show your face here again!”

Before I could respond, mostly just wanting to scream in frustration, Snape intersected the two of us, allowing Draco to grab my arm and pull me off the grounds.

“Y/n!” He called. “You need to disapparate! Go back to the Manor!” His eyes were wild and wide.

I nodded and wand in hand, I landed softly into the foyer of the Manor.

Of home.

chapter 11

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gentlemancrow · 3 years ago

Note

jonmartin, pre-romance, #15/28??

I did manage to get BOTH of these in! So we have a combo of "You called me, remember?" and "It's too early for this". Much like the others, the MINUTE I read this prompt an idea popped into my head that I just HAD to go with! This is actually based off a real life incident I had with a friend (They know who they are...) but it fit both Jmart and the prompt PERFECTLY! The names have been changed to fictional characters to protect the innocent. (Hint I was the Martin in this situation) Anyway this was super fun and cute to write and I made myself all squishy a lot. HOPE YOU ENJOY! <3

There were precious few reasons why Martin’s mobile should be ringing at exactly 5:47 am on a Tuesday, and precisely none of them were good. Still, the anxiety inducing sound alerting him to something ominously, ambiguously amiss struggled to worm its way through a rather lovely dream of his acceptance speech after being awarded poet laureate. The poem he had prepared for the occasion was marrow-deep and hauntingly beautiful, or at least he remembered it that way until suddenly he was reciting the lyrics to Abba’s ‘Waterloo’ instead and sweating profusely as the audience began to murmur in disgust amongst themselves. Waterloo was indeed blaring, but from the ringtone of his phone, not from his lips, and his stomach performed a cold somersault with the force of the wave of anxiety that had begun in his dream and crested up to lap at the base of his barely functional brain. The few synapses he needed for basic motor function and reading comprehension crackled to life as he clumsily batted the buzzing device on his nightstand into his hand and squinted blearily at the name.

It was small. That was an immediate relief. If the care home had been calling about an incident with his mother, either her health or the staff’s as a result of her, it would have been the full moniker of ‘Sunrise Acres Care Home’ ticking across the caller ID. Yet small implied a name, a person, someone he had in his phone and not just a random spam call, and anxiety spiked again as Martin scrubbed at his eyes until ‘Jon’ appeared in white hot letters on the screen. Sleep dissolved from him in an instant and he sat bolt upright in a tangle of covers as he smashed the green answer icon with his thumb and threw the receiver to his ear.

“Hullo?! Jon? R’you okay? What’s happened?” he demanded, voice still slumbery thick and groggy.

“Martin!” Jon’s silky, prim voice, thinned out to a tin can vibrato over airwaves, answered, “Good, you’re awake. I need your help. Urgently.”

Martin was already out of bed by the time ‘need’ reached his ears, yanking on the first pair of jeans he spotted in the laundry heap on the floor and hopping on his free leg to the en suite with his phone pinched between his cheek and shoulder.

“I’m on it!” he assured him despite having no clue what ‘it’ was, exactly, “I’m coming to you as soon as I can. Where are you? Are you hurt? Should I bring a first aid kit? I don’t think I have a first aid kit… should I buy a first aid kit? There’s a Boots just down the block from my flat, I could-“

“Martin, stop! What the hell are you on about?” Jon’s annoyed tone cut through his panic like a scalpel.

Martin stopped in the doorframe of the bathroom, brows knitted, jeans puddling around the one leg he’d managed to get through and left once again in naught but his boxers as he gripped his phone back into his hand.

“Huh? What are you on about? You said you needed help!” he snapped.

“I do! But not like… not like THAT. What kind of mortal peril do you imagine I would find myself in at a quarter to six in the morning?”

The initial surge of adrenaline fizzling out uselessly in his veins the more Jon talked, Martin sagged against the doorway and pinched his temples as he strained his words through a colander of civility.

“I don’t know, Jon. You called me, remember?”

“Right, right…”

A terse, lowly hissing silence of dead satellite replaced Jon’s voice, twisting Martin’s nerves as acrobatically as he twisted to avoid the point. He kicked off his jeans and stalked grouchily back to bed where he threw himself face down and unmoving.

“So, what is it then? Wi-Fi gone tits up? Forgot how long to steep Darjeeling?” he hissed into his rumpled duvet, a little nastier than he would have liked given the deadly combination of interrupted slumber and primordial biological survival instinct.

“I uh…” Jon’s voice deflated over the speaker, “I have a… problem.”

“Yes, we’ve so very, very clearly established that. What kind of a problem, exactly…?”

“A problem of an upsettingly… Arachnid nature.”

“A spider…?”

“…Yes.”

Martin propped himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowed with genuine and curious concern.

“Wait like a… like a spooky spooky spider? Or just an ordinary kind of spooky spider?” he inquired with as much levity as he could muster, given one of the likely options.

“Stop saying spooky. And the ordinary kind. I think. No, I’m sure of it. It’s merely the sitting on my kitchen wall like it owns the place and staring at me rudely with all eight eyes, judging me for skipping breakfast again, kind,” Jon answered with clinical pointedness.

“O… kay…?” Martin drawled, suppressing a giggle, “So, what’s the problem then?”

“What do I do?”

Martin opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again as he doubted that he had actually heard Jonathan Sims, the irascible, pompous, only capable of truly looking at him down his nose Head Archivist Jonathan Sims, ask him, a lowly assistant, what to do. With a spider. It would have been almost adorable, had he not scared the life out of him initially, but even that knocked it only down a single peg to helplessly charming.

“I-I mean, the normal thing one does when encountering a spider in one’s home? You kind of only have the usual two options? Er well, three, if you count just leaving it be, but I doubt you’re amenable to that one.”

“No, absolutely not, out of the question,” Jon declared swiftly.

“Didn’t think so,” Martin chuckled, rolling onto his back and sagging in relief into the mattress.

“So?” came the impatient invitation to continue.

“So what?”

“So, then what do I do?” Jon repeated brusquely.

“Well, you either kill it or let it go, of course! What else is there to do? Invite it to brunch?”

“I know that! I’m not an idiot!” Jon erupted furiously, “Good lord, Martin! Do you really think I would have called you because I didn’t know the only two options for dealing with an eight-legged criminal invading my home were kill it or let it go? Really?! Did you suppose this was the very first spider I ever encountered in my life? Is that what you thought? Or perhaps I had my own personal valet to attend to all of my insectoid tribulations, hmm? Just call the bug butler, he’ll attend to it straightaway! Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth? Or do you customarily just air out whatever inane notions blow through your ears, no matter how puerile? Christ!”

Martin let the phone drop onto the bed beside him, away from the verbal darts hurled directly into his eardrum and taxing the output matrix of the speaker, as Jon launched into an affronted, mortified tirade, smirking and shaking his head.

“It’s too early for this…” he mused to himself ruefully, rubbing both hands over his face and eyes.

Once the phone stopped humming and glowing white hot with remote rage, Martin scooped it back up and yawned into the receiver.

“You alright there, Jon?” he asked in a gentle tone.

A ragged sigh crackled into a blip of feedback from lips too close on the other end of the phone.

“…Not really?” came Jon’s tremulous reply, “Listen, I’m sorry I went off on you. That was unfair of me. I-I just… I really… really hate spiders.”

Something squeezed in Martin’s chest, something about the confident bass flayed neatly out of Jon’s usually assertively solid mannerisms, leaving it abnormally thin and rickety. He sat up on the bed, cradling the phone much more gently to his cheek.

“Hey hey, it’s okay,” he assured him, “If anybody sympathizes about being afraid, you definitely called the right person. Need me to stay on the line with you while you whack it? A good heavy book will probably do the trick, or if you need speed and agility a rolled-up newspaper or a magazine might be better?”

“No! I wasn’t calling because I needed advice on how to murder the damn thing! I’m quite capable of doing that on my own. Frankly, I’ve taken rather a vested interest in honing my spider termination methodology over the years. I called you because… well you were going on about how you thought they were…” Jon trailed off in a series of garbled sounds of disgust, “Cute… of all things.”

Martin grinned and had to put the phone on his bare chest a moment, as if Jon might somehow perceive his giddy glee through the receiver.

“To be fair I’m a little odd that way. Most people feel much the same as you do about them,” he commented as he picked it back up.

“True, but that’s not even the whole of it!” Jon went on exasperatedly, “I also overheard you talking… must have been to Tim or Sasha but… you were explaining about how helpful they are to the ecosystem and what a vital role they play in that natural order of things, and how we always see images of them eating butterflies and beautiful things that make them look sinister, but how really they mostly control pests and the like… how you thought they got kind of a bad rap?”

“Wow I uh… I can’t believe you remembered all that,” Martin muttered, freckled cheeks dusting a light pink, “But what does that have to do with your unwanted houseguest in particular?”

“It was the last part, mainly. That’s what got me. The part about fear. That they’re afraid, too… You said there had been studies that showed a clear fear response in spiders… to us. They’re afraid of us, demonstrably more so than we are of them…”

One word of all of those slipped between Martin’s ribs and into his heart. Too. They were afraid, too. His thumb stroked and consoled the edge of his phone unconsciously as Jon blustered on, unbothered by his own unconscious admission.

“And now I can’t do it! Now I have to set this bloody spider free because you think it’s cute and want to make friends with it, and I can’t make it an innocent victim of my fear and I have no idea how!”

Martin couldn’t help but smile, imagining how Jon must be in his flat on the other end, scrunched in a corner all hunched up shoulders and furrowed brow with hackles bristling, squaring off with a creature who was possessed of no knowledge of the fear she symbolized, or the grace to understand the iconographical divorce to her salvation. Only Jon, quivering and still bed-rumpled and frazzled, could understand the magnitude of cupping that fear in the palm of his hand while reaching out to him with the other. And now Martin understood it, too.

“Hey alright, I’ve got you. Steady on Jon, we’re gonna get through this together. I’ll talk you through the steps, you just follow what I say, okay?” he instructed in his best 999 operator performance.

A beat of silence ensued, followed by a much more robust and emboldened, “Okay.”

“So, what you want to do first is get a glass.”

“A glass?”

“Yeah, like a water glass. And a stiff piece of paper or cardboard or something. If you’ve got a bit of post lying about, flyers and coupons and the like, those usually work well.”

There was a period of distant shuffling, clattering, and indecipherable muttering as Jon gathered his weapons, then sucked in an audible breath through his teeth.

“Alright I’ve got them, now what?” he asked, sounding a bit winded.

“Now you very carefully put the glass over the spider, then slide the paper under the glass so you trap it inside. Then you can take it out without touching it or worrying about it scuttling off on you and set it free wherever you think it’ll be happy!” Martin answered sweetly.

“Okay, okay. I think I can do that,” Jon chanted for steadiness, “I’m putting the phone down so I don’t louse it up, but d-don’t hang up, stay on with me, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jon. I promise. You’re okay.”

“O-Okay… Okay… Okay…!”

Martin listened as Jon’s voice grew distant, but somehow stronger, more like a war cry, with the soft pad of socked feet on tile, then a short stretch of silence, and then a chorus of oaths and yelping, rising to the crescendo of a door being messily flung open, shut, then opened and shut again. A drumbeat of returning feet rolled mutely close and melded into the scratchy rustle of the phone being picked back up.

“I’m back,” Jon announced.

“Is it done?”

“The deed is done… your little friend is enjoying some lovely pink dahlias out front as we speak.”

“I’m pleased for her! And… for you, too,” Martin said, voice melting into lilting tenderness, “I’m honestly really proud of you, I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“I… Ah… No, it wasn’t. Thank you, Martin,” came the sheepishly measured rejoinder.

“You’re very welcome.”

Martin smiled privately to himself, and ran a loving thumb down the edge of his phone once more.

“So then may I rightly assume I have permission to come in an hour or so late today so I can go back to sleep?” he continued, already knowing the answer as he flopped back down on his pillows and rolled up into the covers.

He was relieved to hear a husky chuckle rumble through the phone.

“Yes, yes. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

“Brilliant, see you in a bit then? And for lunch?” he added hopefully.

The brief silence as Jon calculated his response hung thick and palpable in the digital airwaves.

“Lunch sounds good,” he replied at length, “See you then.”

“G-Great! Great! See you!”

Their phones clicked mutually off without the awkward jumble of sign-offs, pleasantries, and accidentally stumbling over each other’s words. Martin thought glimmeringly of the spider hunting free in plush pink petals, none the wiser, and of Jon, with new and irrefutable proof that not everything ugly or quietly cunning in the world lurked behind to cast its shadow over him. A spider could be just a spider, and Martin back asleep with both hands still clutching his phone to his chest, dreaming of singing Waterloo again, but this time to a rapt audience and thunderous applause.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #Spiders #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #distortingbones #Suddenlyapples

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 9 - ‘The Kindest of Kisses Break the Hardest of Hearts”

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 (swear I’ll make a masterlist soon)

Summary: Back in London, you find unexpected help in the form of Ives. But when Neil comes back sparks fly... ✨

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So here’s the chapter I’m incredibly excited about... Suppose I should thank Dior for inspiration in this one. Hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing the last scene! Please let me know what you think!

You did not remember the last time you were this happy to be back in London. After the mission in Paris was done, Jasper went back to Boston, and you were free to do what you wanted. You contacted TP, told him how the mission went (without certain details), and in return, got told to wait for more information regarding the next steps. By your estimation, it was less than two weeks left till Kiev and the day when the mysterious plan will be set into motion. You were scared.

Ever since that day in Paris when Neil called, you had a difficult time maintaining normal conversation with him. He would message asking about something as mundane as how your day went, and you would only respond with a short sentence. You could not really explain it if asked. It was as though after hearing his voice and letting yourself have that conversation with him, all the doubts came back with a tripled strength. Suddenly you could almost believe Jasper and his harsh words suggesting that you were not important in Neil’s eyes. Maybe he just liked flirting, and you were conveniently there? That sounded rather plausible. Ever since you started naming those thoughts, an ache in your chest was hard to ignore. And so you did the best you could, which in this case meant low-key ghosting Neil and losing yourself in training and work.

Surely with enough time and space, you would get over it (him), right?

That was the state of your mind the day when rather surprising help appeared. You have been back in London for a few days and have not really interacted with anyone. Usually, you would spend two hours in the shooting range and then in a sparring session. After you were done, you would retreat to your room and try to ignore the texts that were still occasionally coming.

“How’s London treating you? Say hello to Anna from me” you glanced at the screen and frowned.

The instant temptation to text back was still there. Only now, it was tainted with much more anxiety and uncertainty.

“It’s alright, rather quiet. I haven’t seen her around though. Maybe she’s moping after you”

Like I am? You sighed and chose to focus on notes from the physics class. You were saved from the study by an unexpected knock on the door. Without thinking, you got up and opened it, only to see Ives standing there with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Hi” you muttered, worried you have forgotten how to behave like a human being.

“Hello, love” he grinned “Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“No, I was actually rather bored” you admitted with a sheepish smile.

You heard the distinct buzz of a text message but chose to ignore it. You were slowly getting better at the game.

“That’s terrific because I thought we could have a coffee in the canteen and chat” Ives’ thick cockney accent was somewhat adorable.

And you could definitely do with a distraction.

“I’d love that” you beamed back at him and left the room, locking the door behind you.

As you walked side by side along the corridor, you struggled to say something.

“How did you know I’m here?” finally you settled for a rather easy question.

“I’ve seen you at the shooting range in the morning” he watched you closely for a short moment “You’re fucking amazing, did you know that?”

“Oh no, I’m really not” you felt your face heat up.

“Yeah you are” he playfully nudged you in the side “You could probably teach me a thing or two”.

You glared at him and then quickly considered your options.

“Only if you taught me how not to be knocked out within the first two minutes of the hand in hand combat” you knew you could use help in that department.

“Deal?” Ives stopped and turned to you with an outstretched hand.

“Deal” you shook it with a grin.

Once you made it to the mess hall, you noticed with relief that it was rather quiet. You both made coffee and sat down at the table in the corner. After a few moments of comfortable silence when you sipped your drinks, Ives spoke up:

“What have you been up to?” he was eyeing you curiously.

Even though you barely knew him, you felt at ease. There was no enigma of TP to him or Neil’s intensity. Instead, he was just a friendly bloke with sharp wits.

“Oh you know, shit mission in New York and now even shittier one in Paris” you frowned at the fresh memories “Though I suppose the recent one at least ended with success” you mused.

It was true not all of your missions have ended with a huge fuck up. And that was somewhat encouraging.

“With Jasper?”

“Yeah” your frown deepened, and Ives grinned.

“My condolences. He’s a right pain in the ass”

“Well said” you laughed, finally feeling some of the tension of the last few days dissolve.

But it was not meant to be for long. Before either of you spoke again, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of the pocket and glanced at the received text. It was him, of course. You grimaced and placed the phone screen down on the table as if to avoid the temptation. All the while you felt Ives’s attentive gaze. He has not missed a thing.

“Neil?” he asked, watching you closely with a neutral face.

“Yeah…” you shrugged, avoiding his stare “I’ll probably sound pathetic… but do you know where he is?”

Once the question was out of your mouth, you felt your cheeks heat up. It was one thing to worry about him daily. Another to actually voice the worries. But Ives did not seem to mind. He quickly considered something before leaning over the table.

“He’s in India, dealing with some sudden disruption. I was there with him in the beginning” at your unspoken question, he added “He’s fine, often said that’s partially thanks to you” he eyed you carefully, and you looked down at the table, flustered.

“It’s more that if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t even need help in the first place” you mumbled, feeling the guilt gnaw at your heart.

Still, sometimes you kept wondering why on earth had he decided to shield you back in the bar. But any possible answer to the question meant having to assume something about Neil’s intentions. And that was dangerous territory.

“Should I ask?” Ives’ question brought you back to the present moment.

“Better not” you smiled wryly, and he just nodded.

“He wouldn’t shut up about you sometimes, you know” he spoke up again after a short silence, making you look up.

You were not sure you liked the cheeky smirk that appeared on Ives’ face. You were not going to give in.

“He’ll get over it in no time, I’m sure” you feigned nonchalance as you finished your coffee and met his gaze.

“Are you two good?”

You just shrugged. To be frank, you had no clue how to answer that. Was there even such an entity as ‘you two’ when it came to you and Neil?

“Well, whatever is going on, know that I’m ready to slap some sense into him if needed” Ives grinned at you, and you beamed back.

“Appreciated”

The next few minutes passed in companionable silence. That is until your brain rudely decided to suggest another pressing question.

“Is he there… alone?” you cringed as soon as you said it aloud.

No point in trying to sound disinterested…

“Nah, Wheeler stayed with a couple of others” his stare was way too knowing.

You felt a sharp stab of pain in your heart. What even… There was no reason to be jealous. Right? As you were internally debating what the new feelings were supposed to mean, you failed to notice Ives’ grinning at your distress.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous” he was enjoying it way too much.

“What? No, I’m not” you tried to scoff at this insinuation but failed miserably.

“Yeah, you are” that’s how you learnt that Ives had his own version of a shit-eating grin.

Was that a part of the Tenet work application?

“Mate, Neil and Wheeler wouldn’t fuck each other even if I paid them. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you” Ives wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you groaned.

You glared at him, unable to come up with any good response.

“What? I may have only seen you two together once, but it was clear to me that dear Neil is interested. Very much so” he smirked at your wide-eyed stare “But I don’t think that’s in any way news for you” he squinted his eyes as though trying to see right through your soul.

“Please, let’s leave psychoanalysis for another date” you grabbed the phone from the table and looked at him pleadingly.

“Of course” he grinned “When shall we have our first sparring lesson?”

“Tomorrow morning. Be there at 9” you got up “Thanks for the chat”

“Anytime, love” he waved as you left the canteen.

*** Combat lessons with Ives have proven to be a gift from the gods in the days that followed. He would accompany you to the shooting range afterward as well under the pretence of wanting to learn from you. Even though you were sure it was utter bullshit as he could hit the marks as well as you, if not better, you appreciated the sentiment. To say that his help in the sparring sessions meant you have greatly improved would be an overstatement, but certainly, additional tips slowly started to make a difference. All that distraction meant you also spent much less time wondering about Neil’s whereabouts and asking yourself existential questions about your own feelings. That was probably the best outcome of the situation.

Another morning of the sparring session began with you and Ives meeting in the gym as usual.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as you entered the gym.

“More or less” you grinned, stifling a yawn.

Last night you spent way too much time overthinking the text exchange with Neil. All it took was for him to mention ‘the fun you had in New York’ and then compare it to the recent night undercover. To you, it meant that Jasper was right, and you were just another ‘flirting companion’. And that shit hurt.

“That will have to do then” he tossed a water bottle in your direction, and you caught it easily.

You set it down on the side and the mat and stood facing Ives. After a short warm-up, he began showing you the way of blocking punches aimed at your upper body. While the demonstration always looked easy, once you went onto the practice, you have begun to struggle. After getting a third light punch to the shoulder, you huffed:

“Maybe I should just give up and become a sniper” you rubbed the aching spot.

“That could work” he grinned “Though I’m not sure how Neil would feel about that career change”

“Fuck Neil” you made sure to put up your guard, expecting another punch.

“I see how it is” Ives smirked before he threw a hit towards your other shoulder.

This one you blocked. And the one afterward as well. Slowly, with only a few mistakes, you got the hang of the game. That is until you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat by the door. You both turned to see Anna standing there.

“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” she sent you a fake smile.

Christ…

“Of course”

You looked at Ives with panic in your eyes before you followed her into the corridor. Anna was clearly uncomfortable with having to talk to you, and that did not ease the tension.

“What’s the matter?” you spoke up first, hating the awkwardness of the moment.

“Neil called me yesterday” she paused, and you frowned.

“Yeah?” if she wanted to torture you, she has succeeded.

“He wanted me to let you know that they got Steiner in New York” despite Anna’s best attempts at keeping her face neutral, you knew she was enjoying this.

“Okay, thanks” you smiled weakly, trying to ignore the jealousy building up in your chest.

“Oh, and he says he should be back next week” now she was smiling dazzlingly.

“Great” you mumbled and showed her your brightest grin “Thank you”

With that, you chose to end the tortures for you both and went back into the gym. At Ives’ questioning stare, you just glared. He understood instantly.

“Fuck Neil?” he offered you a sip from the water bottle, which you gladly accepted.

“Mhmm”

There was so much to unpack from what Anna told you. Partially, you knew your ghosting was to be blamed for the situation but still, it hurt. Especially the unspoken fact that Neil has called her. You knew you were being ridiculous but could not ignore the feelings that were attacking every fibre of your being.

“Ready for another round?” Ives looked at you worriedly.

“Absolutely”

*** A few days later, as you left a meeting covering suspicious activity around London, your head was most certainly elsewhere. Ever since the awkward situation with Anna, you were not sure what to do with yourself. Only carefree moments were those you spent in the shooting range or learning hand to hand combat with Ives, who was surprisingly great at distracting you.

Walking along the corridor, you were too busy worrying about all those texts you have ignored to see where you were going. With eyes trained on the floor, you barely registered the surroundings. And that is why you were incredibly surprised when you unexpectedly collided with something solid standing on your path.

“Fuck” you muttered before slowly realising that you have, in fact, walked into a person.

You felt someone’s hands reach out to steady you by wrapping around your waist. The next thing you registered was the smell. A very familiar one that you have tried to repress from memory for the past few weeks. You felt panic surge through your whole body before you let out a long exhale and lifted your head.

“Didn’t expect our reunion to be that dramatic, but I’m not complaining” Neil grinned at you with that smug look on his face you have grown to hate.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you” you choose to stare at his tie.

A nice burgundy one which he has worn in New York, during the mission. At the memory, your cheeks grew somehow warmer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to be swallowed by the earth. But to no avail.

“Are you alright?” his voice broke through the increasing paralysis.

“Yeah” you forced yourself to look up at him again.

The concern in his eyes only made your desire to run stronger. But his grip on your waist was unyielding. You were acutely aware of standing in the middle of the corridor. Anyone could pass by and see you like that. But it looked like Neil did not care.

“I tried calling you last night” his voice was tense.

Shit.

“Sorry I was busy” you were a terrible liar.

And, of course, he saw right through you. You noticed how the look in his eyes went from concern to serious worry, and you desperately wanted to flee the scene. He was studying your face, and you tried to look anywhere but at him. After a beat, he must have found some answers in your conflicted expression because he relaxed the grip on your waist, giving you a way out.

“If I said anything wrong…” you were thrown off by the slightly wounded look in his eyes.

Now that you actually could run away, you did not want to. Not without making sure he understood.

“You haven’t” you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing heart “It’s… just things that Jasper said and stuff… it made me think” you mentally groaned, annoyed at how you could not form a coherent sentence.

But Neil understood as he nodded and reached for your hand. You let him lead you to a quieter spot in the adjacent corridor. You were still paralyzed with conflicting feelings, but now also curious. The voice in the back of your head kept on reminding you how much you have missed him. You had your back pressed against the wall and stared as he slowly stepped closer, making your personal space non-existent. It was suddenly hard to think about the reasons why you should not let him be this close. The look in his eyes was unreadable to you.

“I don’t know what that idiot told you or what’s going on in your head, but it’s all wrong” you felt his free hand slide up your arm to rest on your neck and gently caress the skin there.

It was embarrassing how you responded to his touch with your body tensing and goosebumps appearing where his fingers made contact with your skin. It was hard to lie, even to yourself.

“Why should I believe you?” your voice sounded breathless already.

You knew you should have never let him get this close before you talked. But still, the way he looked at you was surprising. Any train of thought was interrupted when he brushed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. His eyes were darker than usual, and the intensity of his gaze alone made the flutters in your stomach appear.

“I’ve got a few reasons”

Gently he tilted your chin and covered your lips with his. You gasped at the contact and felt him smile against your mouth. Then, as though a switch was flipped, Neil started kissing you hungrily, and you responded in kind, letting your teeth graze his lower lip. When his hand wrapped around your neck, you felt lightheaded and breathless. But still, you deepened the kiss, making all the feelings you have tried to stifle lead the moment. It was scaringly easy to do. Only once you felt like you had no breath left, you broke the kiss and stared back at Neil with a dazed expression. That was not what you expected from your reunion.

“Hope that beat whatever Jasper had to offer you” he grinned, and you enjoyed the sight of his subtly swollen lips.

“Please don’t remind me” surprisingly, you could still form a sentence.

But that ability was soon to be gone as you watched mischievous sparks shine in his eyes. His lips curled into a smirk, and you knew you were fucked. In every meaning of the word. Before you could react, he leaned in closer again, kissed the corner of your mouth before leaving a trail of kisses down to your jawline, and then crook of the neck.

“Neil…” you breathed out, trying to somehow stop the situation from getting out of your hands.

“Yes?” he interlocked his fingers with yours, pinning your joined hands to the wall.

Perfect leverage. Thinking was getting increasingly difficult.

“I… I’ve missed you” that was not exactly what you wanted to say.

You heard him chuckle with his lips brushing the skin on your neck.

“Quite right” he kissed the spot beneath your ear “Too”.

You sighed at the sensation, tightening the grip on his hand and letting your other palm splay on his chest. Through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the fast heartbeat. It was somewhat encouraging to know that it was not just your heart that was beating wildly. He was kissing your neck with something akin to reverence, which made you feel faint. The traces of reason left in your brain started screaming for attention.

“Neil” you huffed, annoyed at how you were unable to voice the mess of thoughts.

Slowly he lifted his head and looked back at you.

“I really like how you say my name” the roguish grin that began it all was back to haunt you “So breathless” his voice was huskier than usual.

He wanted to kill you, evidently.

You met his gaze helplessly, feeling vulnerable with how he could see right through you. He looked almost fascinated by your stunned expression. Then his eyes softened.

“I missed you too” you felt his hand travel down your body to settle on the hip “So much”.

That admission was all it took for you to lose it. Again. You leaned in and initiated another kiss, unable to deny the need you felt. Neil was ready as he easily matched the tempo you have set. This time neither of you wanted to rush it. Instead, you kissed slowly and delicately, enjoying the careless moment. You tangled your hand in his blonde strands, tugging lightly to bring him even closer. He groaned at the sensation, making you feel a new kind of tension. You wanted him to make that sound again. But before you could find ways of achieving that, on the periphery of your attention, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps approaching fast. Then they stopped abruptly and were replaced with a shocked gasp.

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring straight at Anna. Fuck. She was frozen in the spot three meters away and had a bewildered expression on her face. You knew there was no way in hell she has not realised what was going on. You could only watch as her face scrunched up in a scowl before she turned on her heels and almost ran back down the corridor. That image was enough to help you wake up from the daze. Gently you disentangled from Neil, who looked confused. Despite the reality of the situation downing on you, you grinned seeing his ruffled hair and disoriented gaze.

“Well done, now Anna hates me” you warily eyed the corridor before settling your eyes on him again.

You watched as he slowly absorbed the information, frowned, and then brightened up again when he met your gaze.

“Pretty sure she did already” he eyed you carefully as though assessing the state he brought you to.

Conscious of how you looked, you smoothed your hair and patted your blazed cheeks. There was no pretending that nothing happened, even if you wanted to.

“Why?” you arched your eyebrow at the implication.

“You know why” he just smiled as though it explained everything.

You didn’t know why. At all. You watched as he ruffled his hair even further by combing a hand through it, and your eyes settled on the exposed forearm and rolled up sleeves. For some reason seeing him like that was very thought-provoking. You knew he caught your stare when you heard him chuckle.

“Like what you see?” it was that smug smirk again.

You could not help but roll your eyes at him. This time the voice of reason was not so easily ignored.

“We really should talk before…” you did not even want to finish the sentence.

“Before?” Neil took a step closer again.

“Before we do something much more reckless than… this” you gestured vaguely and took a step back.

“Would that really be so bad?” he bit his lip and eyed you curiously again.

You have had enough. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him back. That clearly surprised him.

“Let’s just talk. Please” you put on your best puppy eyes just for him.

That did the job. Thankfully.

“Couldn’t say no to that” he grinned and took your hand in his “C’mon”

Now you just had to figure out what to tell him. The only issue was that you had no idea about how you felt… Fun.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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riversofmars · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there!! I just want to say that I love your writing so much <3 and I have a prompt if you want one? Some hurt/comfort for River/13 where one of them gets hurt during one of their adventures and the other one looks after them ??

Thank you for two brilliant prompts! I haven't done hurt/comfort in a while so this was good! Plus, love the idea of exploring more things that were implied but not actually shows in canon (got another fic brewing for that as well but more on that another time!). Anyway, I decided to do a follow up from Companion Piece and River getting home to Luna University, shortly before heading off to the Library. You don't have to know Companion Piece to follow this though, it's all self-explanatory. Turned out more emotional and angsty than planned but I hope you like it! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 2700

Read on AO3 or below

Every Second, For Eternity

“There we go…“ River sighed, exhausted. “Last one…“ She closed the door of the type 70 TARDIS she had borrowed. Well, borrowed implied she would return it, she had no intention of doing that. Stolen, maybe? Probably more accurate… but then, was it really stealing if the owner had no use of it anymore? The Clocksmith was dead and the Nine had stolen it himself, so River considered keeping it fair game. Particularly since the Nine had done God knows what to her Vortex Manipulator.

“Home, I think…“ She mumbled into the silence of the control room. The TARDIS was certainly not as responsive as the Doctor’s but she still considered it alive and worth talking to. Particularly since she had no-one else to converse with now. She missed them already, all the Doctor’s lovely friends and companions she had had the brief pleasure of meeting. Being able to put faces to names had been a delight but they all needed returning to their time periods before the timelines took damage.

“Does feel like a bit of a farewell tour, doesn’t it…?“ River slowly worked the controls and launched into the vortex. Perhaps it was the aftereffects of the torture the Nine had put her through, but she thought, for the first time in her life, she could feel her age in her bones.

I feel like I’m almost at the end now… They had been her own words and they hit home. She had gotten a sense of it when she had been in the Matrix and spoken to the Doctor, a Doctor that didn’t even know her… No matter where and when they were in their timeline, no matter which face they wore, she loved them all the same. Another adventure, running with the Doctor, ticked off the list. How many more adventures did she have left in her? She couldn’t be sure. Her body was starting to ache all over as the last traces of adrenaline wore off.

“Now, you don’t go anywhere…“ She told the TARDIS as they landed and slowly made her way to the door. Exhaustion was taking her over. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept… Must have been in that hotel in Stagmore where she’d bolted early upon the Doctor’s arrival and forgot to pay her bill. Mustn’t forget to transfer some money , she thought to herself, hoping she could remember the correct temporal coordinates.

The TARDIS’s door opened to the familiar surroundings of her flat on the Luna University campus. Home at last. Or the closest thing to it, anyway, when your real home was out among the stars, travelling, doing whatever the hell they wanted… One of them was probably just collecting his friend from a space station, or so she hoped. Not everyone had wanted a lift home from the space station the Nine had kept them captive in. Only an insane kleptomaniac would attempt to make a collection of the Doctor’s companions…

“Nice cabinet.“ A voice greeted her and River looked up, surprised, but only for a moment.

“Oh, you know, actually working chameleon circuit…“ River smiled softly as she regarded the woman leaning against a TARDIS of her own. Fortunately, River’s living room was rather large to accommodate the Clocksmith’s TARDIS and that of her spouse.

“Hello, River.“ The Doctor replied, pushing herself off the blue box.

“Hello, Doctor.“ River hummed, delighted but exhausted as well. She tried her best to sound upbeat as she teased: “Did you get yourself a chameleon circuit of your own or has the universe finally answered my prayers?“

“You like it?“ The Doctor grinned, taking a twirl, and River chuckled:

“Like is not the word…“ She winked and was going to saunter towards her but she found herself stumbling. She grabbed onto the couch for support. Her legs were about to give way.

“River, are you okay?“ The Doctor’s face fell when she realised something was wrong. She rushed forward and put her arm around her wife’s waist, steadying her.

“I’ll be fine in a minute…“ River took a deep breath. She didn’t like to show weakness, not even in front of the Doctor, but her body was betraying her. She had underestimated the toll recent events had taken. She had been to Gallifrey, faced off against renegade Time Lords, been drawn into the Matrix, cast out into the Vortex, and all that just to be kidnapped and tortured for information on the Doctor’s friends… it had been quite the adventure… Slowly, she was beginning to realise how much her body ached all over.

“I don’t think so, what happened to you?“ The Doctor sensed that something was very wrong. She pulled her sonic from her pocket and scanned her wife. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Your muscles, your joints, every cell in your body, good God, River, what happened to you?“ She exclaimed and the momentary panic in her voice made River realise the seriousness of her situation. It was as if all the muscles in her body had fallen asleep and were waking up with pins and needles, very very sharp, painful needles.

“The Nine really knows how to take the fun out of torture…“ River winced, she needed to sit down.

“The Nine?“ The Doctor echoed confused and concerned. She helped her around the sofa and to sit down.

“Ah, well, good to know I wiped everyone’s memory properly… and the girls kept my secret.“ River chuckled despite her discomfort. The fact that the Doctor didn’t know about her encounter with the Nine meant she hadn’t endangered the timeline and everything had worked out just fine… apart from the piercing pain she was in.

“The Nine… you mean when he was kidnapping my old companions? You were there too?“ The Doctor realised what she was talking about. These events had been lifetimes ago and she had only been told about them in retrospect.

“Jaime, Bliss, Charly, Ramona… Leela, now, let me tell you, wiping her memory was a challenge I enjoyed…“ River gave a chuckle but ended up wincing. “Returned them all to the right time and place… I take it you picked up Liv and Helen? Were they okay in the end?“

“Yeah I got them, they were fine.“ The Doctor nodded and River smiled:

“That’s alright then…“

“Whatever you were doing, you wore yourself out.“ The Doctor said, brushing her wife’s frizzy hair back.

“You’d be exhausted too if you’d had to get hallucinogenic lipstick on all your companions’ lips… you collect them like strays…“ River smirked, teasingly.

“River!“ The Doctor exclaimed but River shushed her:

“Fine, fine, that wasn’t really a hardship, more likely the Nine’s delightful torture machine has taken more of a toll than I realised…“ She trembled, she could hardly move but tried her best to put on a brave face.

“Oh River…“ The Doctor’s heart broke at the sight of her and she gathered her into her arms.

“I’ll be fine…“ River retorted weakly but she didn’t resist the caring gesture. It felt good to be held, to be close to her.

“You helped save them all…“ The Doctor mumbled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.“

“Well, I was largely responsible for them being there in the first place… I had to give him some names… just made sure they were the right ones to stage a breakout.“ River explained weakly. She winced as she tried to get more comfortable.

“Very resourceful.“ The Doctor nodded approvingly and River smiled too:

“Yes, they are. Your friends.“ An unbidden sob escaped her throat.

“River…“ the Doctor’s voice was full of concern and she scanned her again. “Let’s get you to bed…“ She suggested and helped her up. She needed rest. There wasn’t much to be done. Her body needed to recover from the trauma, like sore muscles after intense exercise but infinitely worse. The fact that River didn’t protest made her realise just how much pain she was in. Under normal circumstances, she never would allow herself to be told what to do.

The Doctor helped her up and supported her as they slowly made their way into the adjourning bedroom. The Doctor only briefly registered the pictures on her bedside table: Photos of her parents, her adoptive brother, and one of them, together, at the Singing Towers. The Doctor smiled at the memory of happier times as she helped River into bed.

“I’ll be right back.“ She assured her wife and went into the bathroom, only to return with a glass of water and a wet flannel.

“Do you remember it?“ River mumbled as the Doctor kicked off her boots and climbed onto the bed next to her wife. She placed the flannel on her head and pressed the glass to her lips, encouraging her to drink.

“Remember what?“ She asked softly, brushing River’s hair back that was sticking to her brow with sweat.

“What I said in the Matrix.“ River answered before taking a sip of water.

“I didn’t use to remember, too much interference in there… I didn’t remember it for a long time after…“ The Doctor admitted, searching her mind for the memory.

“Funny… so that wasn’t your first meeting with me either…“ River mused as the Doctor placed the glass on the bedside table. “Every time I meet one of your younger selves, I wonder itf that’s it, the first time, for you…“ She carried on to explain, watching her through heavy eyelids.

“You know which ones of my faces you can be honest to…“ The Doctor replied and sat up against the headboard.

“I do… but then, I also know you lie, so…“ River managed a half-smile and rested her head on her wife’s lap.

“I remember it now, looking back, all those times we met but I didn’t know who you were… I remember it now.“ The Doctor smiled, hoping to distract her from the pain she could so clearly see painted on her face.

“In the Matrix, when we exchanged places… it’s a funny old place, isn’t it, the Matrix and the Vortex… makes you see things…“ River hummed thoughtfully, trying to recall the events as best as she could.

“River, you’re exhausted, you need to rest…“ The Doctor tried to soothe her but River felt the need to keep talking, to work this out for herself, before she could think about closing her eyes.

“I could feel it… like I was almost at my destination… I thought that was it, genuinely, that I would die there and if not there, soon…“ She couldn’t quite explain it, how she had known, but she could feel her journey coming to an end.

“You’re safe now.“ The Doctor stroked her hair, hoping he would drop off into sleep and not face more emotional upheaval. She had to focus on getting well.

“I always feel safe with you…“ River smiled and forced her eyes to open properly, to be able to look up at her. “How much time have we got left?“ She asked the most burning question on her mind.

“We’re time travellers River, time is for other people…“ The Doctor replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Doctor…“ River protested weakly.

“How many seconds in eternity?“ The Doctor retorted airily. River was in no condition to be having this conversation.

“Says the immortal…“ River huffed. “I can feel it, Doctor, my time is running out… I saw that there was a fixed point, something I’m heading towards…“ It was an unsettling thought that wouldn't allow her to rest.

“River, you really ought to get some sleep…“ The Doctor instead but she wasn’t having it.

“This isn’t it, is it? The last time?“ River’s voice was distraught and weakening. “I used to think Darillium would be the end…“

“That was one hell of a night…“ The Doctor interrupted softly.

“It really was…“ River smiled at the memory of it. “You won’t leave, will you? If I fall asleep…“ She was struggling to keep her eyes open now but she didn’t want to go to sleep. She didn’t want to wake up alone as she had done so many times.

“Someone’s got to look after you…“ The Doctor smiled, she had no intention of leaving her until she was sure her wife would be okay. “And you’re not gonna die, now, either. As if the Nine could take credit for that. No. I know that for a fact, you have adventures to go on yet.“ She kissed the top of her head again and adjusted the flannel.

“That’s good to know… Mind you, there is this place I’ve been meaning to go…“ River hummed, feeling a little more relaxed.

“Yeah? Where is that?“ The Doctor asked, hoping to help her focus on something positive, something to look forward to.

“Biggest Library in the universe… I’ve had the invitation to an expedition ages ago and kept putting it off…“ River answered softly.

The Doctor remained quiet, she didn’t know what to say. Either response would feel wrong. If she encouraged her, she would be encouraging her to go to her death, she couldn’t do so with a steady voice, with conviction, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. And at the same time, she couldn’t tell her not to go. She would be endangering causality, damage her own timeline, damage her relationship with River, at worst, destroy it, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. So she remained quiet, her hearts weighing her down on the bed as they grew heavy.

“There’ll be stories there, the stories about us…“ River gave a faint smile.

“I dread to think…“ The Doctor huffed, entangling her fingers in her wife’s hair.

“Why?“

“Stories are just that, they’re stories, they’re not…“ The Doctor broke off. Stories couldn’t compare to reality, much like a consciousness in a computer couldn’t compare to the real person…

“We’re all just stories in the end…“ River threw the Doctor’s own words back at her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to argue with herself. And when she didn’t, she carried one: “And we've had some amazing stories…“ She smiled as she closed her eyes. “We’ve come such a long way… Kovarian, the Silence…“

“I’m so sorry about what they did to you…“ The Doctor interjected softly, her hearts aching at the memory of what had been done to her. River’s childhood had been taken from her.

“It’s not your fault.“ River sighed, shaking her head as much as she could while lying down.

“It happened because of me…“ The Doctor insisted.

“And if it hadn’t, I would have never met you.“ River interrupted weakly. “Every part of my story… I’m grateful, for all of it, every last bit, every detour, every adventure… no matter how terrifying, no matter how painful, even all those times you didn't know me…“

“I’m sorry… for the times I didn’t know you.“ The Doctor sighed. She could only imagine how painful it must have been for River to see that lack of recognition and feeling in her eyes.

“So many first times… and still not the right one.“ River mused, tiptoeing the edge of sleep.

“One day… but not too soon.“ The Doctor mumbled.

“Will I see you there?“ River asked softly.

“Where?“ The Doctor frowned and River hummed:

“The Library?“

“Maybe…“ The Doctor answered, trying her best to keep her emotions out of her voice. “If you invite me…“

“As if you could stay away…“ River whispered, slowly drifting out of consciousness.

“Never when you call.“ The Doctor answered, caressing her cheek as River’s breaths grew more even, deep and slow. She looked exhausted and spent but peaceful nonetheless. River Song was formidable, strong and true. Her journey was nearly at an end and it broke the Doctor’s heart as she held her wife. “I love you.“ She spoke into the silence of the flat. No-one, not even the Doctor knew what the future had in store for them. For all she knew, the universe could end tomorrow or it could stretch out for all eternity… whichever it was, the Doctor knew her love for River Song would pass the test of time. Every second, she would hold her love close, every second, for eternity.

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #prompt #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #space wives #femslash #whump #hurt/comfort #general #yowzah #river x thirteen #river x the doctor #companion piece #angst #mild angst

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littleoddwriter · 3 years ago

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Hello over there! Hope you're alright! Can I request another Zsaszmask story with their son Andrew? This time, Andrew kills someone in self-defence and he does not know what to do. Luckily for him, his parents are here for helping him. I am sure you will write something wonderful. Thanks in advance and have a nice day! (BTW, if you want to request me something, don't hesitate!)

Alive and Safe | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hi there! As alright as can be, hope you are as well, thanks! <3 Now, this was a super interesting request, thank you so much for it! I really hope you enjoy what I've done with it. :) Have a wonderful day/night! (And thank you!) <3

summary; See above.

notes; Gun Violence; Blood; (Background) Murder; Self-Defence; Crying; Shock; Anxiety/Panic; Hurt/Comfort; Showering; Taking Care of Someone; Parental Feelings, Worries, etc.; Domestic. [Also, Andrew is 19 here. It'll be mentioned in the Fic, too, but I'm saying it here for imagination purposes.]

There was so much blood on him. Some of it was his, but most of it was from the guy, who was now lying lifeless on the floor. Andrew had shot him. He didn’t mean to kill him! He just wanted to incapacitate him so that he could get away and call the police. That was all he had wanted to do. But now he stood in the dark alleyway, above this corpse and he didn’t know what to do.

Should he still call the police? Would they arrest him, then? Would he end up going to prison for trying to save his own life?

With trembling hands, he pulled out his mobile phone from his pants pocket and speed dialled his dads’ number. They would know what to do.

“Andrew? Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be home already!” one of his dads, Roman, yelled upon picking up.

Andy opened his mouth to tell him what was going on, but he didn’t know how to start. His throat was so tight; he couldn’t get a word out. Instead, he just breathed heavily into the phone as tears gathered in his eyes.

“Andy?”

“Dad-,” he choked out eventually, a sob tearing from his throat immediately after.

“Andy, what’s wrong? Baby, c’mon, tell me what’s going on,” his dad urged him, his voice softer and with a more concerned inflection now. “Victor, get the driver ready!” Andy heard him say distantly. “We’re coming to you, ‘kay? Just tell me where you are,” he spoke to him directly again.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Andrew tried to collect his thoughts and then whispered the alley’s name he was currently standing in. “Please come quick, dad. Please,” he snivelled.

Back at home, Roman rushed Victor downstairs and into his Rolls Royce. Quickly, he gave the driver the address and told him to hit the fucking gas, but park a street away from the actual alley Andy was in, lest they might alert someone to their presence.

“He sounded so fucking afraid, Vic. What do you think happened? Fuck! That’s why I don’t like letting him go out on his own!” Roman hissed, punching the seat beside him.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out. We have to stay focused, though, Roman. Andy needs us,” Victor replied, looking back at him from the front passenger seat.

“I know that, ugh! How can you be so fucking calm?”

Zsasz just shrugged and Roman huffed, crossing his arms. Why couldn’t Victor show that he was out of his mind with concern, too? Why did he always have to be the emotional one? It was annoying and unfair.

Soon enough, they arrived at a street away from the alleyway their son was in, and they quickly armed themselves – both with guns and knives, concealed by their clothing. Silently, they walked up the alley; Victor in front of Roman, making sure it was safe. Then, they turned the corner and came to a sudden halt.

There Andrew stood, soiled in blood with wide, wet eyes, shaking and frozen to the spot, illuminated by the soft yellow light of the only streetlamp in the alley.

When their gaze tore from him and further down to the floor, they saw the corpse of a man. He looked homeless to Roman, and it wouldn’t surprise him at all if he was.

“Dads-,” Andy sobbed, sounding so small and terrified.

Roman’s heart sank. He hasn’t heard his son sound like that since he’d been a younger child, plagued by nightmares. But fuck, he still was a child, wasn’t he? After all, he was only nineteen-years old.

“Oh, baby. It’s okay,” Roman said and quickly walked over to his boy, cupping his cheeks in his gloved hands, “Are you hurt?”

“A little,” Andy admitted brokenly and Roman clenched his jaw.

What kind of fucking prick thought it to be a good idea to hurt his son?

Victor crouched down beside them and looked the body over. “You shot him?” he asked, looking up at his son, who choked out a soft ‘yes’ in answer.

“I didn’t mean to kill him! I swear, I didn’t! It just sort of happened, I don’t know how. He came onto me and threatened me with the gun and I defended myself. I only wanted to hurt him! But suddenly the gun went off and he was dead. Just like that!” Andy explained frantically, his breaths coming out in short bursts, as he was starting to hyperventilate.

“Ssshhh, sh, sh, sh. It’s alright. We’ve got you. No one is mad at you, ‘kay?” Roman tried to shush his son, gently stroking his thumbs over his puffy, wet cheeks.

“B-but when the police find out- They’ll put me away!”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that. You won’t go to jail. I’ve got the police on my payroll. Not only that, but I’ll call my men and they’ll clean up here. No one’s going to find him or know he’s been killed.”

“Are you sure?”

Roman couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, hearing Victor, who finally got up from that filthy floor, do the same. “Yes, I’m certain. Otherwise your papa and I would have been in prison a long time ago, ‘kay?”

Andrew nodded and Roman leaned in to press a short kiss to his son’s sweaty brow. Then, he let go of him to get on his phone and wake up some of his goons, so they could do their job.

While he was busy on the phone, Roman saw Victor hugging Andrew, rubbing his arms and back soothingly and kissing his hair. It made him smile. Zsasz was surprisingly good at being a father. Roman envied him for how easy it seemed to be for him.

When he got off the phone, he told the other two that they’d have to wait here for his men to arrive, before they could return home without a second thought. Andrew certainly didn’t like it and neither did Roman, but it was necessary, lest someone might have found the body and actually called the fucking cops, then. That just wouldn’t do.

Finally, a good twenty minutes later, his goons have arrived and he instructed them quickly. Then, he ushered Andy and Zsasz back to his car, so that they could leave for good. Thank fuck, it had all gone smoothly thus far.

“Victor will take a look at your wounds at home and then you’ll wash up,” Roman stated, holding his son’s hand in his own. He would have put his arm around him, but the blood on him, although dried by then, didn’t allow it for him.

“Yeah, alright. Thank you, dad. For everything,” Andy whispered. He’s finally stopped crying, then, but he was still trembling severely; although that wasn’t necessarily surprising.

As they eventually came through the door, Zsasz immediately walked Andy into the bathroom to take a look at his wounds. Roman followed them, observing the whole thing from a safe distance in the doorway. Apparently, Andrew has gotten away with some bruises on his torso, a cut on his left arm and a split open lip that Roman only registered now in the bright bathroom lights.

“Take a shower, Andy. I’ll come and nurse your wounds afterwards, alright? If you need anything, just tell us,” Zsasz finished his inspection and Andrew nodded, thanking him quietly.

Then, Roman and Victor left Andy alone, until he was either done with washing up, or needed them all of a sudden - whichever happened first.

Frankly, Sionis felt sick to his stomach. This was his son, his baby – wounded and in shock, because he had to involuntarily take someone’s life to save his own. It was wrong on so many levels and it left Roman heartbroken and seething with rage.

“Maybe we should have shown him this side of our business before, already,” Victor mused, putting his hands on Roman’s shoulder and massaging them as he did so often.

Roman scoffed, “Why? So he wouldn’t have been so shaken up, now?”

“I don’t know, yes. I just don’t wanna see him like this again, y’know? God knows how long this will stick with him.”

“I know what you mean… We’ll just have to support him throughout and then he’ll be better, soon,” Roman responded, deep in thought, “That’s what other parents would do, right?”

“Yeah, I think so. I guess we’ll also just have to listen to what he says he needs. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Fuck, I hope so. Vic, I-,” Roman heaved a deep, shuddering sigh, “I was so scared we’d lose him. That some rival gang has gotten their hands on him or some fucking shit like that.”

“I know. I thought the same thing. But he’s okay. Shaken up and a little hurt, but he’s alive, at least.”

Zsasz stopped kneading Roman’s shoulders and instead wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling the back of his head. Roman relaxed into the embrace, closing his eyes for a moment, faintly hearing the water from the shower.

Later, after Andy has showered and gotten his wounds taken care of by Victor, he went to bed. Roman and Victor tucked him in, just like when he was still a boy and kissed his cheeks and forehead one after the other.

“Goodnight, baby,” Roman murmured, brushing his son’s hair back.

“Goodnight, dads. I love you,” Andy replied softly, looking up at the two of them with a small, quivering smile on his face.

“We love you, too. Now sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise,” Zsasz responded, then and walked over to the door with Roman in front of him.

Then, they switched the lights off and closed the bedroom door, walking into their own room afterwards and sitting down on the bed. As soon as they sat down, they leaned against each other and heaved sighs of relief.

Andrew was alive and safe. That was all that mattered.

#tw gun violence #tw murder #roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis imagine #victor zsasz #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask #zsaszmask au #zsaszmask fanfic #mlm ship #mlm fiction #mlm fanfic #kid fic

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broadstbroskis · 4 years ago

Text

surprises- pt 8 | mat barzal

oooffff it’s been quite a long journey and thanks for sticking with me through the wait! it’s finally here- the next and last part of surprises! thanks to everyone for reading, thanks for all your lovely feedback and kind words throughout this series, and all the support as i worked through this last part! it’s meant the world to me and i hope you all enjoy this last part!

When you wake up one morning to absolute silence, you get suspicious. No baby cries, no sounds of Mat breathing next to you, nothing.

But when you investigate, you find Mat sprawled out on the couch, holding Maeve against his chest, and they’re both passed out. She’s grown, definitely grown a lot since you brought her home, but his hand still covers most of her body. You reach for your phone, snapping a picture (to add to the many you’ve taken of the two of them over the past month), only to fumble it when you see the instagram notification on the front screen.

Mat’s tagged you in a post and you sit down on the floor in front of the two of them as you slide to open it. And then, you gasp, immediately reaching to cover your mouth and hide the sound, as you look through the roll of pictures that Mat posted.

One Month with Maeve: You Like: eating, sleeping, anything your mom does You Dislike: tummy time

When you look up, Mat’s watching you, with a hopeful look on his face. “Hi.” He says quietly.

“Hi.” You return, flipping your phone around to him. “I call bullshit.”

He laughs-gently and quietly, so as not to wake Maeve-and then grins. “Oh yeah? On what?”

“That she likes anything I do.” Maeve’s just...so content anytime she’s in Mat’s arms. Anytime he’s just in her proximity. She’s recently started to recognize his voice, turning her head for it anytime she hears it...sometimes even over FaceTime. “You are definitely the favorite.”

Mat kisses the top of Maeve’s head gently; it’s a favorite thing for both of you right now, you’re pretty sure. “Maybe, but we still like anything you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “We?”

“Yeah, both of us.” Mat says, like it’s something he says everyday, totally normal and casual.

Cheeks flushed, you stand up. “I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“We’ll come.” Mat stands, careful not to jostle Maeve too much.

“You don’t have to.” You offer. You know how tired he is all the time now, between Maeve and playoffs. He could use all the rest he can get.

“I want to.” Mat settles himself on one of the chairs by the counter and re-adjusts Maeve. “I feel like I barely get to see you guys right now.”

“Somebody’s gotta pay off that nice, big house.” You chirp, pulling out the eggs to make omelets.

Mat laughs. “Can’t even move into it yet and it’s already costing me money.”

“Don’t think about the price tag until you get paid this summer.”

“Once again. You cannot max out my credit card in the Target Home Section. Even with a bonus this year.”

“I gave you the most perfect human ever and this is how you repay me?’

Mat looks down at Maeve, unable to stop the smile that grows over his face, and in return, you feel one spread across yours as you watch him. “Go crazy.”

-----

Two Months with Maeve: You Like: the new hockey mobile Uncle Tito bought you, when your mom and i talk to you You Dislike: the carseat, more tummy time

When you slip into Maeve’s nursery in the new house (just barely unpacked, but still the most unpacked room in the entire house by far), Mat’s got the same sad look on his face that he’s worn for the last three days, standing in the middle of the room, watching her sleep. You give him a minute, see if he notices your presence, and when he doesn’t acknowledge you, you slide behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, dropping your head between his shoulder blades. “You’re still amazing.”

Mat’s laugh is hollow and you know he’s thinking about how he was held scoreless for the last two games this series, thinking about all the things he could have done differently so that they weren’t eliminated. “You’re biased.”

“Like I’ve ever held back from telling you that you suck before.”

It’s not a smile, but the corner of his lips do turn up. “Fair.”

You smile, hiding the grin in his back. “We’re happy to have you home more.”

“Even though this means we won’t get to put Maeve in the cup?” You can picture his eyebrows raise with the question, even though it’s dark and you’re not even looking at him.

“I mean, she would have looked really cute in it.” You poke his side. “But I’ll get over it. We’ll just have to take cute baby pictures with her somewhere else.”

“You mean, like this new house we just moved into?”

“This new house we just moved into where every room is either filled with boxes or has no furniture?”

You feel Mat hesitate. “Maybe there’s a park nearby.” He says and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You agree, slipping around to curl into his side, so you can both watch Maeve sleep.

-----

Three Months with Maeve: You Like: that new activity mat, music, afternoon walks You Dislike: pop goes the weasel, noisy birds on the walks

“These came out so good.” Molly enthuses, beaming as she stares at the pictures of Maeve that you and Mat had professionally taken, shortly after your conversation about it, to send out in cards to everyone you know.

“Right?” It had taken a little to decide where you wanted to have the pictures taken, the house still not finished and immediately eliminated. Almost all the parks nearby had been eliminated by your photographer due to lighting and the one that hadn’t, had been nixed by you. You and Mat had both scrunched your nose up at the thought of bringing Maeve to the beach already, as well as a few other suggestions. In the end, though, you can’t imagine anyone will be shocked to see the ice rink in the background of a few of the pictures, and it seemed only fitting.

As usual, Maeve’s perfectly at ease in Mat’s arms, who’s beaming down at her, in your favorite shot of the afternoon, as you hang onto his arm gently to keep yourself upright, the same wide grin on your own face as you look at the two of them. There are so many other shots from the day- Mat skating while holding Maeve; the two of you laughing while you move easily on the ice; close ups of Maeve sleeping peacefully in Mat’s arms, just happy to be close to him (unless it’s the proximity to the ice- she is definitely his daughter). And then there’s all the candids.

“Some tough choices for the photo wall.” Molly muses.

“Gonna need lots of frames.” You agree, as the back door opens and Tito walks in, bouncing Maeve gently in his arms, closely followed by Mat and Brian.

“Alright, patio’s done.”

“Perfect!” Molly claps her hands together and you give her a look because she sounds too excited. “Great timing.”

Tito huffs, still bouncing Maeve, who’s smiling away at him and probably going to start giggling at any minute. She’d laughed for the first time last week and it felt like since then, she hadn’t stopped. “We said we’d have it done in time, didn’t we?”

“In time for what?” You press, skeptically.

“Yes, “Molly ignores you completely. “But I honestly didn’t believe you.”

“Rude.” Brian teases. “The lack of faith.”

“Yeah.” Tito adds. “What’d we do to deserve this?”

“What are you three talking about?” Mat huffs, and you feel ten times better already that you’re not the only one left out.

“Oh!” Molly blinks, like it’s only just occurred to her that she hasn’t actually told you what’s going on yet. “Right. You two are going out tonight. We made you a dinner reservation and we’re going to stay here and babysit while you do.”

You hesitate, relieved that when you look over to meet Mat’s eyes, you see the same look. “I don’t know.”

“We’re not going to force you to go.” Brian says, before Molly or Tito can jump in, with what’s certain to be a much less soft comment. “We just thought you could use a couple hours out. Without having to worry.”

It’s not...the worst thought, if you’re honest, and you can see the idea growing on Mat as well. “I mean, we’re probably still going to worry.” He says, even as you can see him start to grin.

“What, now, you don’t trust me with your kid?” Tito says, feigning hurt. “And to think, I almost made godfather.”

“Because YN’s brother almost didn’t show up.” Mat throws back at him.

“Classic Christopher.” You grin at the memory of your brother literally running into the church last month for the baptism only just in time.

“You two go get moving; we promise to take perfect care of your baby.” Molly says.

“Team Baby.” Tito sticks his free hand, the one not holding Maeve to his chest, into the center of the circle you’ve all formed, and stares at you all expectantly, until each one of you piles a hand on top of his. “Team Baby!” He cheers again, and then he steers Maeve over to her activity mat and lies down on the floor with her.

“Go.” Molly gestures and it doesn’t take much more for you and Mat to turn and start getting dressed because that’s her I mean business face. “Dress nice!” She calls after you. “Suit, tie, dress, heels. The works!”

“Where could they possibly be sending us?” Mat mutters as the two of you climb up the steps toward your room, and you hide your snicker much better than he does.

“Mathew!” Molly calls, warningly.

“First shower.” You call dibs to him, and rush past him for it, laughing at the look on his face.

While Mat showers after you, you fix your hair and makeup, and then step into your closet, already pulling a face at all your dresses before you even look at them.

You’re starting to feel more like yourself after giving birth, finally, after three months, but you don’t feel completely there. You’re not sure you ever will, that’ll you’ll ever feel that easy and carefree again, or that you’ll ever look the same again, and you’ve talked with Grace and Lauren, and are coming to terms with it. Have come to terms with it, really. The trade-off for Maeve’s smiles made everything worth it.

But.

But you don’t have a single dress that fits the way you like now.

There are four dresses on the floor of your closet and at least five more that you couldn’t even bring yourself to try on before you find a charcoal colored slip dress that’s covered in a pattern of dark sequins. The strappy heels that go along with it are an old comfort; they, at least, still fit you.

Mat’s holding a tie up in the mirror when you come out of the closet, like he’s debating if he actually has to wear it, but the second he sees you through the glass, his eyes go wide and the tie drops from his hand.

“Now those hands aren’t going to earn you that new contract.” You tease, unable to handle the thick silence that’s fallen between you.

“What?” It’s like he didn’t even hear the joke; his eyes are roaming up and down. “Fuck. You want to skip dinner?”

You actually kinda do. You’d seen Mat leaving the old apartment all spring in a suit on his way to the airport or the arena, all the way up until they’d been eliminated, so maybe it was just the context of the evening, but he looked unreal tonight. You nod, but then immediately bite your lip...which just makes Mat groan. “They’re not going to let us just stay here, though.”

Mat grins, reaching for your hand. “Trust me on this.”

“I do.” You smile at him, squeezing gently in return,

And it takes the two of you almost thirty minutes to leave the house after that, despite the heated looks in your bedroom, because neither of you wants to leave Maeve again once you see her, but Molly shoves you out the door with threats about missing your reservation, and once the door’s closed, that’s all it takes for Mat to turn his gaze right back to you.

There is, blessedly, still furniture in his old apartment, still his as he continues to decide whether to sell it or rent it, and you’ve never been so thankful for his unusual moment of indecisiveness as he lies you down into his old bed, pressing kisses onto any spot of skin he can find.

-----

Four Months with Maeve: You Like: playing with your toes, sitting, laughing and babbling You Dislike: when anyone takes a toy from you

Expecting Mat, you’re a little surprised when you turn and see that the form that’s flopped down in the shade beside you and Maeve is actually Tyson. “How’s my best girl?” He coos at her, as entranced with her as anyone else has been since you and Mat had come up to Canada last week to see Mat’s family.

Maeve giggles, babbling some noises back at him, and reaching her hands out for his curls. “Don’t.” You warn him, but he’d learned that lesson already this week, and he intercepts her with his thumb instead, a wide grin on his face. “Sucker.” You tease.

“How can you say no to this face?” He cries and yeah, when she’s laughing and smiling like that, you can see what he means. Especially because it’s Mat’s smile she seems to have inherited, even if it looks like the rest of Maeve’s features might be all you.

“Mmmm, you get used to it.” You tell him anyway, and Tyson grins knowingly, so you close your eyes, relaxing in the sun for a moment, confident that someone is watching your baby and you can get a few minutes of rest.

It doesn’t last long, because shortly after closing your eyes, you feel something heavy and wet plaster itself to you and you open one eye to glare, which is as much as you can be bothered with out by the lake. “Mat!”

He’s already grinning down at you, water from the lake dripping from his face to yours. “You looked a little hot.”

“I was very comfortable.”

Mat lays his head down on your chest. “Well, now I’m very comfortable.”

“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” You say, and you don’t need Tyson to laugh to know that you don’t sound serious at all.

“Liar.” Mat says, and you can feel him grinning against your skin. “You love me.”

You pause for a moment, unintentionally, as you move your hand up to play with his hair, but it’s long enough that you feel the smile start to slip from his face. “Yeah.” You tease. “I guess I do.”

Mat’s grin returns and he presses the softest kiss to whatever piece of skin he can reach, but before he can say anything else, Maeve starts babbling away. “I know.” Tyson coos at her. “They’re so cute it’s disgusting.”

“Hey!” Mat frowns. “Let go of my baby so I can push you down.”

Tyson laughs. “Well thanks for that get out of jail free card!”

-----

Five Months of Maeve: You Like: hide and seek, bananas, applesauce You Dislike: peas (can’t blame you, kiddo)

“Do we really want to try peas again so soon?” You frown at Mat, holding up one of the other jars of baby food.

He shrugs. “Gonna have to jump back in eventually.”

You pull a face. “Spoken like the man who didn’t get puked on.”

“We get puked on like ten times a day!”

“It was green!”

He laughs. “I’ll do the peas this time.”

You laugh. Sucker. “Deal.”

It’s super gratifying then, to see that Maeve hates the peas this time just as much as she had before. She’s not about Mat’s airplane noises once she realizes what’s on the spoon he’s trying to feed her with and none of his usual tricks are working to try and calm her down once she starts crying.

But when Mat looks at you for help, you don’t do anything but laugh, continuing to film the entire disastrous event. “Really?” He gives you a look.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You fire the video off into, like, three different chats- the one with his family, to Team Baby, and the Islanders Moms chat, because he could probably use the ego deflation- and then reach for Maeve, who settles almost instantly against you, her crying quieting as you hold her against your side.

“Sure.” Mat grumbles, dropping the spoon against the high-chair’s table. “All calm now.”

“Oh hush.” You tell him, with a smile, knowing exactly what he’s annoyed about. “You’ll go back to being her favorite in an hour; don’t worry.”

Mat tries to hide his grin by ducking his head to clean the high-chair but you see right through him.

-----

Six Months of Maeve: You Like: bouncing, rolling, wiggling, literally any kind of movement You Dislike: teething (but we dislike you teething too), staying still

“I think she’s going to really start crawling soon.” You remark to Mat, the two of you both seated on the floor, opposite sides of the room, to catch her before she could wriggle into any walls.

She hadn’t quite pushed herself up there yet, but she scooted around pretty well.

“Don’t say that.” Mat groans, reaching out for Maeve and ignoring her cry of protest as he placed her back on the ground, safely away from the wall. She gave him a look, but then went right back to rolling around, rolling onto her back and then over to her stomach again, scooting toward you. “Fuck, imagine when she can walk. Chasing after her.”

“Inability to sit still for sure comes from you.” You try to distract Maeve with a toy, watching as she puts it in her mouth and starts to gnaw on it. Her first tooth had come in the other week, an absolute nightmare, and you were pretty sure another one was following.

“Can’t prove that.” Mat says, eyes fond as he watches Maeve.

“Wanna bet?” You tease. That’s an easy phone call to make.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” Mat beams at you and you burst into laughter because you haven’t showered and you’re covered in baby formula.

“That’s what I thought.” You grin, and then reach out to pull Maeve away from the coffee table.

-----

Seven Months of Maeve: You Like: blocks, knocking down block towers, clapping blocks together, anything blocks You Dislike: noise-cancelling headphones

“These are so cute.” Grace beams, scrolling through the pictures on her phone and simultaneously bouncing a wriggly toddler on her lap. “I’ll send them out as soon as we get upstairs.”

You smile, thanking her already, fixing the earphone covering Maeve’s tiny head. It’s the Islanders’ home opener, Maeve’s first game actually attending, and there’d been a well-documented photo shoot with all the kids prior to the group of you heading down to the glass, to wait for warm ups to start.

She wasn’t a big fan of the headphones you’d placed on her ears, constantly reaching up to bat them off, but she was looking around, eyes wide as she stared at the crowd around her, even after both teams skated out for warm ups, unable to grasp what exactly was happening.

But she was smiling, beaming the whole time, a grin that only got wider when Mat skated up to the glass in front of you and put his fist up against it. She reaches for it as you bring her closer to the glass, grabbing out for it as he taps it with a grin, and then she babbles a bunch of nonsense when she’s stopped by the glass, retracting her hand immediately.

You and Mat both laugh and he gives one last tap on the glass to you both before skating off to rejoin warm ups.

He absolutely lights it up that night, but the gifs of the the three of you at the glass during warmups cycle through the internet for days.

-----

8 Months of Maeve: You Like: your favorite blankie, Cheerios, cheese You Dislike: i really tried with those peas, kid

You’d do literally anything for some sleep right now, even just a power nap. Mat had been gone on a road trip for a few days now, due back shortly, but Maeve had been so clingy the entire time he was gone, not even wanting to be held by Molly when she’d stopped in to visit, and fussing anytime you’d walked away from her.

She was playing with a couple of her toys on the floor right now, and it took everything in you to keep your eyes open to watch over her. You contemplated moving her into her bouncer, even as she kept side-eyeing you to make sure you were still close, just in case you accidentally dropped into a nap.

Suddenly, an arm drops over your shoulders and Mat’s pressing a kiss to your temple. “You look sleepy.”

“I’m exhausted.” You lean against him immediately. “When did you get in?”

“Just now.” He squeezes gently, smiling and waving as Maeve, who’s abandoned her toy the moment she saw him, clapping her hands together and beaming at him, babbling at him happily. “She keeping you up at night?”

“She’s just…” You trail off, not sure how to describe what Maeve is right now. Because on one hand, she’s not normally this clingy, and it’s certainly a change of pace. But it’s not a bad thing to have her so close to you all the time, for her to want to be so close to you- you don’t dislike it at all. “I’m just tired.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, but before he can say anything, Maeve reaches her arms out for him. “Da!” She’s frowning, probably because Mat’s been ignoring her in favor of you. “Dada!” She reaches out again, and this time Mat’s face lights up, both of yours do, as he sweeps her into his lap.

“Say it again!” Mat prompts, tickling her, which of course doesn’t get her to do anything but giggle.

“Dada.” You try, leaning closer, and she repeats it then, but won’t say it again, for all that Mat tries, struggling out of his arms right after that, to go back to playing.

Mat runs his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely floored, and you still haven’t stopped smiling either. Your baby’s first word! You have to tell everyone! But there’ll be time for that later; Mat’s comfy to lean against right now and he doesn’t look like he wants to go anywhere either, so you press a kiss to his cheek and then lie your head back against his shoulder, content to watch Maeve play with her blocks.

-----

9 Months of Maeve: You Like: walking, giving your mom and I heart attacks while walking You Dislike: sitting still for any length of time (stop laughing at me mom)

“You,” Mat sweeps Maeve off her feet and up into his arms as she toddles past him. “Went from walking to running in like two days! Give your mom and I a rest, kiddo.”

“She gets that from you.” You tell him, tiredly. He’s not wrong though. She’d started pulling herself into standing not long ago, and then shortly after, taken her first steps, and then it felt like the next day, she was off to the races. You spent most of your day chasing her around the house now; she almost never wanted to be picked up anymore.

Even now, she was squirming to get out of Mat’s arms and be back on the ground, already starting to whine about it. Mat obliges, and she takes off- or as well as she can; she hasn’t quite mastered it yet, her feet make that distinct slap noise on the floor that you associate with all babies walking.

Mat chases and brings her back, but you two quickly have to settle each on one side of the room, eyes watching Maeve and turning her between the two of you. “She needs a friend.” You mutter, steering her back towards Mat, for what seems like the hundredth time in ten minutes.

Mat nods furiously. “Suddenly I understand why people have more than one of these.”

You burst into laughter, loud enough that it stops Maeve for a second. But only a second; she’s right back to toddling over toward you, throwing herself at you, giggling along with you for a moment there. “One of these?” You call Mat out, and he joins you in laughing, as Maeve uses your arm to pull herself back up and starts walking again.

Mat shrugs it off laughingly. “You know what I mean.”

You do. “God, I used to not even imagine being able to have another one of her, but god, if another one meant they could entertain each other; I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’d have five more if it meant we didn’t have to chase her like this.” Mat pulls Maeve back into the room, a small noise of protest coming from her until he puts her back on the floor.

You give him a look. “You can find someone else to have five more with.”

When Mat smiles at you, it’s softer, not his usual bright beam. “Alright.” He says. “We won’t have five more. Two or three more.” You side-eye him, trying to gauge how serious he is, but he must take your silence for agreement, because then he does beam.

-----

10 Months of Maeve: You Like: patty cake, waving, causing chaos You Dislike: bananas, apparently, even though you loved them last month

“Tito!” You gasp excitedly, only just remembering to pick Maeve up and bring her with you, ignoring her fuss in favor of Mat and Tito walking in the door with something much more exciting. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting a dog?”

Luckily, she’s easily swayed by the dog, eyeing the wriggling puppy in Tito’s arms. She still doesn’t look like she’s 100% certain about it, but it certainly captures her attention; she stops moving in your arms entirely, blinking at the dog, unmoving.

“Uhhh.” Tito says, in response to you, looking at Mat and then back at you. “Not exactly what happened.”

Mat grins. “So you wanted a dog, right?”

Your jaw drops and the next words are out before you can even think about stopping them. “Shut the fuck up.” And then you immediately wince, because you’ve been on Mat recently about watching his language around Maeve, who’s soaking up words now like an absolute sponge.

But Mat only laughs, reaching to pull the puppy into his arms, and stepping closer to you and Maeve slowly. “Her name’s Blue, but we can change it.”

“Boo!” Maeve repeats, which really ices the cake on that one, and brings a smile to both of your faces. She’s reaching out for the puppy as Mat steps closer, and you prepare yourself for the worst, but Maeve bursts into happy giggles the second her hand touches the puppy.

Blue sniffs her tiny little hand tentatively, and then licks it happy, and Maeve giggles even harder as she does. “I might cry.” You announce. “This is the greatest day. I thought you’d never cave.”

Tito snickers. “He was worried he’d come home one day and you’d brought a stray home.”

“I considered it.”

“Thought this was better.” Mat agrees. “At least I got to screen for a good one.”

“All dogs are good dogs.” You state firmly. “Let’s put her down and let her explore a little.”

“Come on, Menace.” Mat takes Maeve from your arms, who goes happily, reaching for his hair as she does, but you’ve both caught onto the move by now, so he intercepts her hand with his thumb. “Let’s go follow your new best friend.”

-----

11 Months of Maeve: You Like: baby dolls, baby doll stroller, your fancy new cup, Blue You Dislike: puzzles- you’re not really about toys you sit for anymore

“How soon,” Mat starts one night, when you’re getting ready for bed, both child and dog already asleep in crib and crate from an exhausting evening of playtime. “Is too soon, do you think, to bring Maeve out for a skate?”

You’ve got a mouth full of toothpaste, but you think you still manage to convey what you want with a look. “You’re asking me this question?”

“Good point.” You rinse your mouth out and join Mat in bed. “Maybe we’ll start with mini-sticks and a soft ball.”

You burst into laughter. “You think she’s ready for that?”

“Oh she’s got this walking thing down now.” He brushes that off. “My girl’s an expert.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, we knew that was coming.”

Mat grins. “Work on that hand eye coordination now.”

You give him a look, trying to decide how serious he is, and then when deciding that he’s absolutely 100% serious, you press a kiss to his shoulder-the nearest spot of him that you can reach. “Please don’t kill our baby.”

Mat’s already scooting in closer to you, already half asleep because this asshole somehow manages to fall asleep like the second his head hits the pillow basically, and he throws an arm over your waist. “Mmm, kay, promise.”

-----

It was a mistake to sit down, you knew that before you even did it, but you’re exhausted from the day. Between spending your morning getting ready for Maeve’s birthday party, playing hostess throughout the afternoon, and then starting the clean-up process, you honestly think you could fall asleep right here against this wall that you’re leaning against.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you slip it out-it’s another message from Molly, probably just more pictures that she took throughout the afternoon-but it’s the instagram tag from Mat that really catches your attention.

The app opens to a picture of the two of you standing on either side of Maeve and her smash cake, both wearing happy parent smiles, as her hand brings another fist of icing to an already-covered face. There’s a picture with the three of you standing with his parents and sister; another with Maeve, Tito, Molly, and Brian; and the last one, just you and Maeve, sitting on the floor and her trying to play with the party hat Molly had put on your head, right after you’d fixed the bow on her headband.

1 Year of Maeve: Happy Birthday to our favorite girl! It’s been an entire year with you already and your mom and I can’t wait to see what comes in the next one

You can’t help but smile at both the caption and the pictures, unable to settle on one and still scrolling through the post when you feel Mat sit down next to you. “Somebody’s getting sleepy.”

The same dopey, fond smile is definitely still on your face as you turn to look at Mat and Maeve, who’s curled in his arms in a way she only does now when she’s absolutely exhausted. But she’s fighting it for sure, eyes fluttering shut and then popping back open again. “Big day.” You agree with him. “And it was a nice day. But I’m happy it’s just us now.”

“Yeah.” Mat says, and it almost sounds like his thoughts are completely in another place for a second as he shifts around on the floor for a second. “It was a great day.” It was; it truly was, and even though there’s still a mess to be cleaned, you’re perfectly content to just sit here for a while longer with Mat and Maeve. When he settles, you lean your head against his shoulder, reaching your hand out to rest it on Maeve’s tiny little wrist. “Hey.” Mat says gently.

“Hmm?”

“Marry me?”

“What?” You laugh, until he brings a hand out to you and opens his fist to show off a diamond ring, and then suddenly you’re not laughing at all. “Oh my god.”

“I just-I want a million more days like this with you,” Mat smiles. “I want forever like that. Marry me.”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, god yes, of course.”

And immediately, Mat’s kissing you, or well, trying to, because you’re smiling and kind of crying, and he’s still holding Maeve in his arms, so you both pull away pretty quickly. “I love you. God, I know I don’t tell you that enough, but I do. So much. It-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off. “I really can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mat beams at you and you reach your left hand out, biting your lip to avoid giggling as he fumbles a little, one-handedly sliding the ring onto it. But he succeeds, and you admire the ring on your finger, as you lean back against Mat’s shoulder.

The silence that follows is comfortable; the only sound the slight wheeze of Maeve’s breathing. “I think she’s finally out.” Mat says quietly, after a moment. “I’ll take her up?”

“Nah.” You clutch at his arm. “Just-let’s just stay here for a while.”

Mat smiles against the side of your head before he kisses it gently. “Okay.” He kisses it again. “But you know you’re stuck with me forever now, right? Not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his arm. “Not stuck.” Mat beams. “Well, I guess I might feel differently in a month or two.”

“Brat.” Mat says fondly.

“Yup.” You grin and then throw his own words right back at him. “But you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Never stuck.” Mat says, and it sounds like such a promise that you can’t help but lean over and try to kiss him again.

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