#also then after i said thank you she sent me a second text! which was even longer!

[coquelicoq]

Hi sweetie i hear you are sick i am so sorry! love grammy

text from my grandmother i thought was sweet, and then i discovered her cellphone has multitap texting, and now i think it's REALLY sweet. because this is what she had to "punch in" in order to send me this message:

44 444 0 7777 9 33 33 8 444 33 0 0 444 0 44 33 2 777 0 999 666 88 0 2 777 33 0 7777 444 222 55 0 0 444 0 2 6 0 7777 666 0 7777 666 777 777 999 0 555 666 888 33 0 4 777 2 6 6 999

and like if you've ever used multitap, you know that you have to get the timing perfect so that the phone knows you're trying to do, for example, "hi" (44 [pause] 444) and not "ggggg" (pauses between each 4). and she hardly ever texts anyone so it's not like she's super proficient, so it must have taken a lot of effort! i am feeling very loved right now!!!

[harstyle]

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 

“Of course.” 

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

--

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

[meangirls-imagines]

Hey this is a little different I guess but can you do a regina x fem reader where reader is so genuine and thoughtful about loving regina that Miss queen bee sometimes gets overwhelmed because when has anyone treated her like that when they didn't want something or her want something from them?

Used To It

Description: Regina is used to putting all of the effort in her relationships. She starts dating Reader and gets overwhelmed by the amount of love and effort she's shown. Reader helps her realize what she deserves.

WARNINGS: none, fluffy as fuck

Regina George was not used to love.

I mean, sure, her parents loved her. But, they loved her because they were her parents. It's kind of a requirement to love your kids.

She thought Aaron loved her, but he just loved what dating Regina gave him. Popularity, status, friends. Same thing with Shane, he loved her because she was good at sex.

She never really felt love.

She had always heard about it, seen it in movies, read about it, but she had never experienced it.

She thought dying for 15 seconds would finally get her the love she had been chasing her whole life. Turns out, it doesn't. It just makes everyone feel pity for you.

After completely healing from the spinal injury, and neck brace free, Regina came out to the whole school. Most people were surprised but some people kinda already knew.

A couple of months after coming out, Regina started talking to a girl in her Physics class.

Y/N Y/L/N.

She was very sweet and charming and always knew how to make Regina feel better. After a few dates, Y/N asked Regina to be her girlfriend, to which the blonde said yes.

Now, a couple of months into their relationship, Regina felt overwhelmed. In a confusing way.

It's not like it was Y/N's fault. It wasn't.

The girl had been nothing short of perfect to Regina. Taking her on spontaneous dates, buying her gifts, pda, the whole nine yards.

She wasn't used to it.

She was used to taking control in her relationships but this, this was different from any relationship she had been in. This was....healthy.

The blonde didn't know how to bring up how she felt to Y/N. She had talked to Karen and Gretchen and even though they weren't much help, they were right.

"Be honest with her, Regina. She'll understand."

The blonde had texted Y/N to come over so they could talk. She had to let her know that it wasn't anything bad, so she wouldn't freak out. Fifteen minutes after she sent the text, Y/N showed up.

She had stopped and gotten Regina her usual from Starbucks. Regina's heart melted at the gesture and thanked the girl with a kiss. She led Y/N into her room, for more privacy as the girl made herself comfortable.

"So, what's up, baby?" Regina took a deep breath and sat at her vanity, facing Y/N. "Umm. I don't know how to say this." The blonde began to fidget as Y/N looked at the girl with a comforting smile.

"Take your time baby." Regina took another deep breath. "I've never been in a relationship that's so...healthy. And it's overwhelming." Y/N nodded, allowing Regina to go on.

"I've never been around a relationship that showed me what love was supposed to be. My parents, Aaron, Shane. I've never been exposed to stuff like that and you have shown me more love in these few months than anyone and it's very overwhelming. I don't wanna mess anything up because I'm happy for the first time in my life, but I also don't wanna hold back."

Y/N nodded and stood, walking to where Regina was sitting. "Regina, first off, thank you for being honest with me baby. Listen, I just wanna give you the best. I know your past relationships haven't been the best, but I'm going to make up for the sucky parts by treating you like the princess you are."

Regina's eyes filled with tears at the girls words. "I don't want to overwhelm you but I also don't want you to feel like I'm going to treat you like your other relationships did. This is a team, Regina. Not an individual thing. I'm going to be there for you, just like you're going to be there for me."

Regina nodded, tears running down her face. Y/N wiped her tears and kissed her gently. "I'm so proud of you for telling me, Gina. I know it wasn't easy. But please, for the future, know that you can come to me for anything, baby. I won't judge."

The blonde nodded, burying her head in Y/N's neck. Y/N kissed her head and guided her back to her bed. Y/N laid back and pulled Regina into her arms. "I really care about you, Regina. All I want is for you to be happy."

And as Regina fully relaxed in Y/N's arms, she felt true happiness for the first time in her life.

Yeah, she could get used to this.

[w2soneshots]

Oh Haz -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: angst, commitment issues.

summary: Harry freaks out and bolts when you tell him that you love him, so he has to figure out a way to make it up to you.

notes: hello loves! I have a few requests to write but I thought of this fic all by myself🙊 (for once😅). I hope you enjoy!!💘🫶🏼

"So you told him that you love him and he just... left?" Talia asked in disbelief as we ate lunch. I nodded. "What a prick! Did he say anything?" "No. He stuttered for a second then got up off the bed, grabbed his coat and made a b-line for the front door." I replied. Me and Harry have been seeing each other for almost four months now and I've known that I love him for over a month. I decided to wait a little while because I didn't want him to freak out but it seems I should've waited even longer.

That night, after talking things over with Talia, all I could think about was him. Worried in case I'd completely fucked everything up. Eventually I decided that it wasn't my fault. If he wasn't ready to commit after a whole four months then maybe he didn't like me as much as I thought he did. I just wanted him to text me because I wasn't sure what was going on. The last time I spoke to him was the night he left, I've heard nothing since then.

The next day I got up and got ready for work. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, pinned my hair back, applied a little bit of makeup then got dressed into a matching skirt and blazer suit along with tights and some black heels. After quickly eating some breakfast I grabbed my bag and drove to the building in which I work.

The day dragged on and so I couldn't wait to get home, get into my pyjamas, order a takeout and watch some trashy tv. Once I was finally finished I said good night to my boss and headed home.

My heels clicked on the tiled floor as I walked towards the front of my apartment. My brows furrowed as I noticed something on my doorstep. Once I was a close enough I realised what it was. I picked up the bouquet of white flowers then unlocked my apartment door and went inside.

I set the flowers on my kitchen counter and walked into my bedroom to change into some comfy clothes. Once I was finished I took a closer look at the roses. A note was placed inside. I pulled it out then opened it. The note read: "I'm sorry about the other day. Can I make it up to you with dinner tomorrow night? -Harry x" I smiled. He could've just sent me a text but this was way cuter and meant a lot more.

I sent him a quick message: "thank you for the flowers. Do you wanna meet at our usual spot at 7 ish?" He replied quickly, "yeah, that's perfect. See u then." I set my phone down and enjoyed the rest of my night but not before I called Talia to tell her about what had happened in the past twenty minutes and she also thought that the flowers were adorable.

After getting a good sleep I woke up in a great mood. Thankfully it was also my day off so I went to run some errands before I came back and began getting ready for mine and Harry's date. I took a warm shower, took time to do my hair and makeup then slipped into a cute dress that I had brought earlier that day. Once I was finished I left my apartment and drove to the restaurant me and Harry always go to; since we both love it and it's where we had our first date.

I parked my car then headed inside. I was quickly met with a waitress who took me to a quiet table at the back. Harry hadn't arrived yet so I sat patiently on my phone while I waited.

"Hey." I looked up to see Harry. "Hi." I stood to greet him. We shared a quick hug before both sitting down. "How are you?" He asked. "Good. You?" It was awkward, which is what I expected. "I feel awful, you know- because of the other day. I owe you an explanation." He began seriously. I smiled lightly at him since I could tell he was very nervous.

He took a deep breath. "I uh- my last relationship was really fast and it ended quickly as well. I think I freaked out because I um- I didn't want the same thing to happen with us 'cause... I love you, like a lot." He didn't look me in the eyes until he said the last sentence. My features softened. "Oh Haz, I understand. We can take it as slow as you need. And I'm really relieved that you feel the same." I replied.

The mood changed quickly and we enjoyed our night like nothing had even happened. Harry invited me over to his apartment afterwards and as we lay together on his bed, my head rested on his chest and his fingers gently playing with my hair, I felt so happy.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Your lips | Pt. 2

(A/N) Good god, I love the scottish translator. Also, thank you for all the notes on Part 1. 🥺

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregnancy, kissis

Synopsis: Simon makes sure to take care of you. Especially when a certain someone comes back into your life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Two steps out of your house and you almost dropped your decaf coffee. Not that that wasn’t a common occurrence, not since the baby had started kicking and you started getting Braxton Hicks contractions. But this time, you almost dropped it because of the man standing in your driveway. The man and the car behind him.

“Simon?”

He wasn’t wearing his standard uniform, instead sporting grey sweatpants, which hung dangerously low on his hips, and a very, very, very tight black compression shirt. You couldn’t decide if he looked as if he had just rolled out of bed or as if he had just gotten done working out. Secretly, you hoped it was the second option.

“How long have you been waiting for?”

As quickly as your state allowed you to, you walked towards him, but ever the gentleman, he met you halfway and immediately grabbed the bag from your shoulder, before offering you his arm, just like the day before.

“Only a few minutes.”

(He had been standing in that one spot for almost 40 minutes, waiting for you to come out.)

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow once he turned his head to look at you as well.

“Already told you, you shouldn’t be on your feet this much.”

He quickly turned his head, instead focusing his eyes on the car he was leading you to, but you would swear on your life that you saw a little bit of pink peeking out from behind the mask he was wearing. Your lips pulled into a smile as you felt your own cheeks heat up.

Within ten minutes, Simon parked the car right in front of the clinic doors. You frowned slightly, watching Simon round the car and open your door to help you out.

“Don’t worry, I just want to get you inside, then I’ll leave.”

You chuckle as you link your arm with his.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Once you realized what you just said, you slapped your free hand over your mouth.

“I-I mean I…ahm…I mean thank you. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to get rid of you. Not after everything you’re doing for me.”

You could tell by the crinkles surrounding his eyes, that he was smiling.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not trying to get rid of me.”

You grinned at him, ignoring the stares from your colleagues as he slowly guided you to your office. Once inside, he made sure you were sat down and had everything you needed before he bid his goodbye and swiftly left.

Within seconds of his departure, one of your favorite colleagues entered the office, a stupid grin on her face. But you held up your hand before she could say anything.

“No, nothing is going on between us. He’s just being nice and taking care of a lonely, pregnant lady.”

You stopped for a second, looking her in the eyes before a grin took over your lips.

“Do I wish something was going on? Definitely.”

This caused your colleague to squeal in excitement as she rushed towards you. On her way, she grabbed the stool on wheels, sitting down midway and using her momentum to slide and stop right next to you.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

So, you spend the hour you usually took to prepare for the day, recounting everything that had happened so far for her. She listened as if you were telling the most amazing tale, asking questions at the perfect moments and nodding along.

Once it was time for your first patient, you had to usher her out of your office, promising to tell her more during lunch break.

A few days later

You smiled at your phone, a new text from Simon popping up.

“Got a long lunch break. Anything you’re craving?”

You quickly typed your response, naming a few items from your favorite fast-food restaurant. Simon sent back a thumbs-up emoji and you couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up in your stomach. Or was it butterflies?

But before you could focus on lunch, you had one more patient. Although you didn’t know who it was, you knew that it was a check-up for an old injury. All you had to do was check it out and either prescribe further treatment or give them the clear for duty.

When the awaited knock sounded out from your door, you called out to enter without looking up from your screen. You heard the door open and a few steps, before they stopped abruptly. Confused, you lifted your head and locked eyes with a person you thought you’d never see again. Your name left his lips as a whisper. A few months ago you would’ve smiled, jumped to your feet, and hugged him, but now, hatred filled you instead.

Slowly, you got to your feet, never taking your eyes off of your ex.

“Leave.”

He repeated your name this time louder and took a few steps in your direction.

“Stop. I said leave. Go.”

He shook his head.

“Please…I’ve been trying to reach you for months. It was a mistake to leave you, I-”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about your stupid excuses. The fact is, you left me. You left me knowing I was pregnant with your child.”

His eyes immediately flickered to your swollen stomach. He started moving in your direction again, his hands held out as if he wanted to touch your stomach.

“I said stop-!”

Before your ex could take another step, he was pulled back by the scruff of his shirt. A dull thud echoed through the room as his body hit the floor, Simon quickly pinning him down. While the man on the floor struggled to throw Simon off, he just looked back at you, brows furrowed with concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, but Simon noticed the way your body was shaking. He needed to get rid of that prick, so he could take care of you. While keeping your ex pinned to the floor, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number, raising the device to his ear.

“Got a muppet causing trouble, can you come in here and take care of him?”

He quickly hung up and a few seconds later, the door to your office opened and a man with a mohawk entered. As soon as he caught sight of you, a low whistle escaped his lips.

“Ah see whit ye'r talking aboot L.t.”

“Johnny.”

“Right, sorry.”

With practiced ease, Simon pulled your ex to his feet and handed him off to the other man.

“Wha would've guessed? a recruit o' ours. Ah will tak' him tae Price.”

Simon nodded, watching until Johnny and your ex left the room. Then he quickly closed the door, before crossing the room to reach you.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You started to nod before reality came crashing down and you started to shake your head as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I-I thought he was gonna hurt me. And the baby.”

Simon gently pulled you into a hug, holding you as tight as he could without squishing you. You leaned into his touch, the shaking slowly subsiding as Simon gently stroked your back.

“It’s okay. I got you.”

You stayed, wrapped up in his arms, until you calmed down. Well, actually your feet started to hurt and you wanted to sit down. So, you slowly peeled away from Simon, before grabbing his arm and leading him over to the bed, where the two of you sat down next to each other.

After a few moments, Simon asked you to wait for a second, before he got to his feet and left the room. Alone, your mind kept flashing back to your ex. He looked just as he had when he left you. Like a coward.

With a dry chuckle, you wiped the tears off your cheeks. He would and could not affect you like this. Not anymore. You stood up and started walking back to your desk when the door opened again and Simon walked in.

“What are you doing?”

You frowned.

“Getting back to work?”

Simon shook his head and walked up to you, pressing his lips to your hairline, through his mask, before pulling back to look at you.

“Just talked to your supervisor. You got the rest of the day off.”

As if nothing just happened, he walked around you and packed your bag, before throwing it over his shoulder. Once he was done, he walked back to where you stayed, rooted to the ground. He looked confused, waving his hand in front of your eyes. You snap out of your stupor, your eyes finding his.

“Can you do that again? Kiss me?”

Your cheeks heated up under his slowly darkening gaze as your words sank in. Your bag hit the floor with a quiet thud as Simon leaned down until his face was right in front of yours. With one hand, he gently grabbed your chin, lifting it slightly, while he used the other hand to pull his mask down.

And then his lips met yours.

When you were a child, you read all these books where kisses were described to feel like fireworks going off. But when you had your first kiss and felt…nothing, you were disappointed, thinking that all these books just lied. But now, here, you felt it. Fireworks going off in your stomach as your lips moved against Simon’s.

All too soon, he pulled back and your eyes fluttered open. And for the first time, you saw his face. All of it. You couldn’t help but reach out, gently tracing over a scar that ran from his chin to his cheek. Simon closed his eyes, a shaky breath escaping his lips as you carefully touched him.

“Sorry, I-”

Simon shook his head and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back and moving his mask back over his mouth and nose.

“Don’t worry, love. Nothing to be sorry for.”

You nodded with a small smile and watched as he picked your bag back up, before threading his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“Now, let’s get some food in you, huh?”

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @brinteylovesaliens @m3ntally-unstable

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[papaya-twinks]

It's me again (the anon who asked for the Short fic of Lando) 🤠🤠🤠

I'll identify myself as Lia (I don't post openly because I'm embarrassed, but I already consider us great friends ❤️ haha)

About a sequel to this story, I can only say "YES PLEASE" (I would ask anyway 😂)

I was thinking that for the reader's first victory, Lando would be amazed by her beauty on the podium, after taking a champagne bath, her golden glow after the victory etc. And that will make him crazy and very horny for the reader. However, our reader is keen to play with Lando. she will "run away" from him all day claiming to have meetings with the team after the race and at night, despite them being together at the same party, she makes a point of not talking to him and always being involved in a group with more than one person so he can't talk dirty to her or something.

This makes Lando even more thirsty for her but they only manage to have a moment alone in the elevator, returning to the hotel room. Lando wants to punish (not with violence) her and please her at the same time for being so stubborn during the day and so beautiful and seductive, so he gives the reader multiple orgasms with his fingers and mouth. The reader even thinks that she won't be able to get to the part where he uses his member, but she does, and OMG it's the best sexual experience of her life.

That's what I thought for a second part 🤭. I apologize for the length of the text and for any mistakes, I'm Brazilian and not very good with English. (Feel free to change anything if you're not comfortable writing about something I sent).

Eagerly awaiting the continuation 🫶🏻✨

Warnings: Smut, 18+, teasing, kinda breeding

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - firstly I don’t judge requests <3, but also, I’ve heard of someone else on here called Lia. Are you alright with messaging me or something? Also making part 2

Lando’s words rang out in your ears for ages afterwards. What happens after you win a race. It was like motivation, a fuel of some sorts, driving you forwards to win. Which is exactly what you did the following week. “And Y/N Y/L/N has won her first Grand Prix here in Canada!” the commentator yelled as you screamed and cheered through the radio. 

As you thanked the team, all you could think about were Lando’s words. “Wow, Y/N,” the interviewer smiled, “what a victory! So close to Lando,”. You smiled at the words, “Yeah, Lando was really close, it was hard keeping him off,” you laughed, “but yeah, a win’s a win,”. Lando congratulated, evidently impressed, his hug lingering a little longer than usual. 

“And in first, Y/N Y/L/N!” you ran onto the podium, beaming as you locked eyes with Lando on his second place step. “Well done,” he whispered as the anthems begun. You held the trophy aloft, Lando’s eyes tracing your movements like his life depended on it, his own trophy limo at his side as he watched you. And the podium music began, Lando was his signature bottle slam, as he immediately sent the spray to you. 

You shrieked, feeling the bubbly liquid coat you, your skin radiating with the golden glow. Lando had to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees right then. You were gorgeous. Oh what he’d give to just bend you over right then and there. “Remember our promise?” he said, subtly whispering into your ear as you took the podium picture. “Might do,” you shrugged, a small smile on your face. 

“Team debrief,” you said, following the man who collected the trophy as Lando watched you, disappointment etched on his face. “After,” he said. And when the debrief finished, you told him you had another PR meeting. “Done, finally?” Lando asked, seeing you emerge from your motorhome.  “Mhm,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his neck, “oh, wait, I have another meeting,” you said, blinking innocently at him as he groaned 

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Lando grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away, “you’re being a brat on purpose,”. You looked at him, as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t give me that,” he said, eyebrow raised at your expression. “And here I am, trying to reward you for winning. Now you’re gonna get punished,” your eyes widened at his words as he took your hand, pushing you back into your room. 

Any of the real meetings you genuinely had were gonna be missed. 

“Lando,” you gasped as he tugged at your team shirt, clawing it off your chest, your baggy trousers coming off with it. “What?” he said, eyebrow raised as he pushed you against the wall, his hand twisting the lock of the door. “Fuck,” you gasped as he nipped at your neck and collarbone. “Feel good?” he asked, lifting your legs up, onto his waist, his hands firmly on you ass. 

Your lips met, a warm, passionate kiss filled with lust and desire, as he moved one hand to your hair, the other one tugging your panties down. “Fuck” he pushed you onto the bed, “you’re soaking, y’know?”. You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips as he threw your legs onto his shoulders, your hands tugging at his curls as his mouth came to your folds. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, his lips pressing featherlight kisses to your pussy, your wrists in his hand, your breast in his other. “Lando feels s’good,” you gasped, tugging at his locks, your hips pressing against him as he groaned, pushing you down. He moved his hand down to your stomach, holding you down, his mouth staying on you as you wriggled. “Fuck, Lando!” you shrieked, your orgasm was like heaven. 

He moved away from your core, his wet, warm lips trailing up your abdomen, his lashes clinging together with your wetness. “Feel good, doesn’t it?” he asked, your body shaking a bit from your high, “Doesn’t it?” he asked again, voice more demanding. You nodded, a small whimper leaving your lips as he took one of you tits into your mouth, swirling his tongue round the sensitive bud. “Lando, fuck” you gasped, his finger running through your folds again. 

Oh he meant punishment. You moaned again as his finger pushed into you, your hips bucking into him, his lips still sucking. “Lando don’t stop,” you rolled your hips against his hand as he pushed his middle finger in, curling inside of you as gasped, the sensation was heavenly. “Oh god, fuck,” you felt another high coming up. 

Your eyes rolled at the sensations, cheeks fiery red as you moaned - at this rate, you wouldn’t be able to take his actual dick. “Lando, Lan…” your voice trailed off, filtering into mewls and moans as you felt another orgasm wash over you. “So good f’me,” Lando mumbled, pulling you onto his lap, your body tired against his, “looked so good on the podium, y’know?” he cooed, pulling his own joggers down. 

One hand pumped his length, the other with his fingers deep inside of you, pumping slowly. “Gonna give me one more, okay?” he asked, lifting you up, before letting you sink onto his cock. “So fucking tight, Y/N, always so tight f’me,” he groaned, bouncing you softly on his lap, his hand coming to circle your clit. 

You were already sensitive from your last two orgasms, the knot building up quicker…faster, as his pace deepened. “Lando, Lando, I’m close,” you whined, your head on his shoulder as he bounced you. “That’s it, yeah? Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, one hand dangling in your hair. “One more, okay?” Lando said, still bouncing you gently. 

You moaned again as he didn’t stop, your body tightening round his as he groaned. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna cum in you,” he mumbled, “gonna fill you up good,”. His words were what sent you over the edge, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he rode out your high for you, before he followed. “Oh fuck, Y/N,” he groaned as you tightened round him, your body against his chest. 

“So tight, fuck,” he gasped, “gonna fill you up, fill you right up,”. You felt his warm, hot cum shoot in this ropes inside of you, his head thrown back, resting his weight on his arms, which were shaking, his eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. “Mmm fuck,” you groaned, eyes shut again. “Feels s’good,” you whined. “I know,” he said, a kiss to your cheek. 

[writeandsurvive]

Author's note: just a little Gibbs idea I've had in mind. Maybe I'll get back to writing for him more... :) maybe it's because I'm binging NCIS from the beginning again. I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, hope I did well. Also, it's not proofread and I'm not a native English speaker.

Summary: you're babysitting your brother's twins by yourself and ends up calling for help.

Warnings: age gap, I guess?, talk of near death experience, taking care of babies, reader not wanting kids, siblings banter

Babysitting ~ Leroy Jethro Gibbs

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Seriously? It's the fourth time you're asking. We're gonna be just fine!" You reassured your brother, as you're sitting on the play mat your ten months old nephew and niece. If you were completely honest, you were a bit anxious about babysitting the twins all by yourself as it was the first time. But you couldn't let your brother know that, as he was already struggling to leave.

"All you have to do is feed them, change their diapers at some point and put them to bed." He got down to pick up his daughter, finally saying goodbye.

"I promise they will be alive and in one piece when you come back. Hopefully, tomorrow morning." You grinned at him before grabbing your nephew and gentle holding him on his feet. "Now go daddy, have fun." You said with a baby voice, like it was your little dude saying it. After one more kiss to his girl, he put her down and did the same with his son.

"It's just a work thing." He told you for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, but the beautiful single mom from your office will be there."

"She left just a month ago. I'm so not ready to jump into anything." He couldn't bring himself to say the name of his wife and mother of his children. One day, she just decided that being a mom and a wife wasn't for her and she took off. Which is why you were babysitting that night.

"Don't jump into anything, just jump on her."

"On those elegant words, I'm out. Bye babies, I love you!" He sent them kisses as he was walking towards the door. "What are you doing?" He asked when he noticed you were following.

"Going to a party of course!"

"Don't leave them out of your sight! Even for one second!" He scolded.

"They are on their mat, playing!"

"And your niece is starting to crawl!"

"Just leave and bang someone."

"And you wonder why you're still single..."

He finally left but not without holding his shoulder after you punched him.

"Okay babies! We can do this, right?"

Turned out, you couldn't. Or at least, it wasn't going as smoothly as you thought it would. Shortly after your brother left, your niece started to cry her heart out, wondering why daddy wasn't there, for sure. Then, your nephew decided that he wasn't going to eat. The food didn't seem yucky to you but it was to him, and he thought throwing around and at you was funny. So did your niece. By this time, your brother had already texted you twice and you obviously lied. The little boy being covered in soft food, you decided to give them both a bath, hoping it'd tired them a bit. But they both were very much against the baby shower gel, and your niece pooped in the tub. Which made everyone almost throw up.

After a (very) long struggle, they were finally in their PJs, clean and ready for bed. You thought a break was coming, but your niece had a meltdown. Which caused your nephew to have one too. You didn't know what was wrong, you tried everything you could to calm them both but nothing was working. You contemplated calling your brother several times, but it was his first night out since she left and you didn't want to ruin it for him. After over an hour of struggle, you did call someone.

"Gibbs," he answered.

"How much do you love me?" You immediately asked over the crying. You barely heard him chuckle.

"I'm on my way."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you one!"

You didn't know how long it took your team leader to show up at your brother's house. But somehow, as you were trying to soothe the twins on your brother's bed, you felt a presence behind you. "How did you get in? You know what, I don't care. Help me, please, I don't know what to do."

Whether or not the twins noticed that there was someone else in the room, they weren't stopping. Gibbs got closer to you, look down at the twins. "First, you're gonna take a deep breath."

"They are crying bloody murder!" You exclaimed.

"The more frustrated and anxious you get, the more they'll cry." You felt his hand on your shoulder and his gentle squeeze. You closed your eyes, tried to block the noises and took a deep breath.

"Now, are they fed? Changed?"

You wanted to give him a snarky comment as you always do, but didn't have the patience for it. So you just said yes.

He grabbed your niece into his arms, "Grab this little guy and do what I'm doing." You followed his instructions. Holding and bouncing your little man a certain way. After the eventful evening, you almost missed how incredible Gibbs looked with a baby in his arms, how gentle and soft he was. Such a natural. You nearly stopped everything when you heard him starting to sing a lullaby. It was quiet and you could barely hear him above the crying. That's when you realized that only your nephew was still crying. "You stopped." He warned you. "Don't get frustrated, hon. Sing to him."

You took another deep breath and did as told. Slowly, your nephew was calming down. It was magic.

"Lead the way to their bedroom." He whispered.

He put down in the little girl in her crib, and helped you putting down the baby boy, as he noticed you were too scared of waking him up. You stayed there for a moment, silently looking down at them, Gibbs right next to you.

"It's official, I do not want kids."

Gibbs chuckled and slid his hand in the back of your neck, bringing you to him so he could kiss your hair. You took the opportunity to go for a hug and he gently returned it. It suddenly became much easier to breathe.

"Is the baby monitor on?"

You checked, and grabbed the part you were supposed to keep with you.

"I need to change." You said after leaving the bedroom.

"You can take a shower."

"Do I look that bad?"

"You look like you need to relax."

"True. Will you be there when I get out?"

"Yes, give me the monitor." You did and felt shivers all over your body as his long fingers brushed against yours.

"Grab anything you want from the fridge. I'll be quick."

"No rush."

It was one of the most amazing shower you've ever had.

You knew you didn't want to have children most of your adult life, but it just got confirmed. You didn't want this to be your daily life. You loved kids, and you loved the twins more than anything in the world, but you didn't need one of your own.

When you reached the kitchen, it was sparkling clean. The big mess from dinner was gone. The toys were put away. Gibbs had his back turned to you as he was doing the dishes. "I don't know if I want to scold you or kiss you." You regretted the last words as soon as they got out.

Gibbs looked at you over his shoulder with a smile. "You're welcome."

"Seriously, you didn't have to!"

"No problem! You accepted to babysit twins after the crappy days we've had at work."

"Yeah," you sighed, remembering the awful case the team dealt with and only closed a few hours ago.

"How you feeling?" He asked, turning off the water and drying off his hands.

"How you feeling?" You retorted, earning a shy smirk from Gibbs.

"I'm fine." He reassured you, or at least, tried.

You got closer to him, grabbing the hand towel for him to put it away, and locked eyes with this man you've been in love with for a very long time. "You almost got killed, Gibbs." You said barely above a whisper.

"It comes with the job." He just said.

"Doesn't make it okay when it's such a close call." You could see the scene again. The bullet rushing so close to his head. A few centimeters to the left and Gibbs wouldn't be anymore. That thought hurt. It scared you more than anything else. And you couldn't control the tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm okay." He said one more time, knowing that you needed to hear it. So did he.

You felt his arms slowly wrapping around you, and before you knew it, your face was buried in his neck, as you inhaled his unique scent deeply. You held onto him tightly. "I can't lose you. Not you. Ever."

But you would, one day. Him being older than you, you knew that and Gibbs definitely knew it too. Which is why he never acted on his attraction and feelings for you. He knew you were feeling the same, he knew you were in love with him - even though he couldn't understand why or how. He could easily have given in, and enjoy whatever moments with you. But he refused. He couldn't do that to you, nor to himself. Everyday in this job, he could lose you too. That bullet could've been for you and not miss. Losing Shannon - and Kelly - was the hardest thing he's ever had to go through, and he couldn't bare the idea of losing another partner, especially you.

Which was why he tried to get you to leave NCIS several in the past few years. At first, it was pointing out how this job sucks - he loves it but he's a bit of masochist -, how you'd be better off doing something safe. Then it was introducing you to someone who had move on from this job and never felt better. And lately, it was asking Vance to find you a desk job you would actually enjoy. But nothing worked. You were still there, by his side, in harm's way.

Would it hurt to give in just this once? He wondered as he felt you clutching onto him. You fitted so perfectly in his arms, you smelled so good. You were showing your vulnerability, which you rarely do, with anyone and Gibbs found it very appealing.

He was looking down at you, you were looking up. He could lean in a few inches and his lips would reach yours. He started to, very slowly. But before it happened, your phone went off. You rushed to it, not to answer but mostly to shut it down, after it would wake up the twins, despite them being upstairs.

"Seriously!" You said after picking up.

"Just wanted to check in. Are they safely in bed?" You rolled your eyes.

"Of course not, I told you we were having a party. Can't you hear the music? Do they prefer scotch or bourbon?" You saw Gibbs smiling.

"You suck."

"So do you. Go back, and enjoy your night out, idiot."

"Hey, wait. Are you--sure it's not too soon for me?"

"She left, bro. Screw her. Whether it's a one time thing or more, as long as you're happy with it, just go for it. You deserve some fun."

"Says you, who can't move on from her boss, even though nothing ever happened. I mean, I tried to introduce you to some nice pe--" you hung up before he could finish. You knew Gibbs hear the entire thing.

"I'm, uh, gonna check on the twins."

But he held you back. "They are fine." He whispered.

"You already knew, didn't you?" You could look into his magnificent blue eyes. "That's why you've been trying to get rid of me?"

He sighed and brought you closer. His nose in your hair, his lips against your forehead. "I can't lose you either." He whispered, returning the vulnerability you showed earlier.

Hearing those words, you didn't think twice. You lifted your head up and crashed your lips on his. Gibbs didn't have the strength nor will to fight it. He intensified the kiss quickly, backing you up against the wall, where it happened for the very first time.

First of many.

[frosted-hyacinth]

You have a bad day

Feat. sae itoshi

Tags. fluff

cw. near-death experience (if there are any more, please let me know)

        You practically collapsed on your chair after you finished the huge mountain load of work and documents. After how tiring and mentally draining your day was. You'd almost gotten hit by a car that screeched to a halt after seeing you in front of it, crossing the road. It was a green light so you proceeded to walk across the road, looking around to check if there were any cars around. After making sure that there were none, you crossed the road only to be met with headlights in your face and the loud noise of brakes. You were shocked, after all, you almost got killed on your way to work. You stood there stunned before seeing the flashing red numbers on the traffic light and ran towards the sidewalk. You were expecting to continue on your way to work peacefully, continuing on your day like you hadn't almost died but just before you could take a step forwards, the driver of the car decided that this incident was entirely your fault and logically, the only thing they could have done was to open their car window and start screaming at you.

        They thought that it was because of your carelessness that they could almost have been sent to prison yet the driver was the one who almost ran a red light. So you just sped up and walked to your work building. As you finally arrived at the building, you set your stuff on your desk and sat down on your chair, opening your computer screen since you were preparing to pick up on the work you were doing yesterday. Before you could open the document, your co-worker tapped you on the shoulder. You didn’t notice but she had been silent walking behind you while you got your things prepared.

        “The boss asked for you.” She said, a smile on her face.

        “Thanks Mika.” You replied with a similar smile then took your laptop with you to walk towards a glass covered room. These types of rooms made you nervous, not only because every time you came into these types of rooms you were going to have serious conversations but also because the room itself felt scary. Sometimes it could be claustrophobic and feel like the perfect environment to have panic attacks but this time, you were seeing your boss. The one that helped you keep your job but also the one that could fire you at any moment. You couldn’t just break down in front of them, that could make you risk your job that you’d worked so hard on finding! You walked into the room with some non-existent confidence that was made last moment, taking a deep breath before your eyes were met with the very direct eye contact of your boss.

Her eyes were still on your but she gestured for you to take a seat on the chair in front of you, an order to which you easily complied to. The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds that felt like hours. If you had to sit there any longer in silence, you felt like you would suffocate. Thankfully, before you could die mentally, your boss spoke up.

        "I have been... Watching your work that you hand in, and I've noticed some things about the pattern that you give me your work. You tend not to finish you work as fast as other employees and to try to make your adaptive skills better, I have decided to assign you an amount of work that you must finish today." She said while reaching under her desk and handing you a pile of papers and documents.

        You nodded slowly then was motioned to get out of the room and resume your activities with the workload that your boss had just given you.

        You walked as quickly as possible out of the room as an attempt to get more time to work done.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

        You sighed, clicking off your pen and shutting down your laptop. You were finally done. When you walked into the elevator, you heard a small ding sound coming from your phone so you turned it on.

Sae: When are you coming home

        When you saw that text, you let out a small chuckle as you realised that you forgot to tell your boyfriend that you would be coming home a little bit later than usual due to the work that you had to quickly finish. You stepped out of the elevator once it had reached the floor you needed then you replied to the text that Sae had sent you with some explanations to why you were late but not much else other than that. You didn't send him the time that you'd get home since it was dark out. When you sent the message to him, it had the symbol that it was sent underneath the text and just as soon as that appeared, it was read by Sae.

Sae: Do you need a ride

        You looked out of the building. It was snowing. So it was cold, slippery and dark outside... Not the best combination, not the safest either... You responded with a quick and straight forwards, yes.

Sae: I'll be there in five

        And now you were set to wait five minutes before your ride arrived. 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

        Sae's car arrived in front of the building, you saw so you walked out of the warm building towards the car. Just before you entered the car, a large gust of wind caught you off guard, making you shiver and stumble backwards before opening the car door and entering the car. You slid swiftly into the front seat of Sae's car, when you made contact with the seat's leather, a large and fluffy jacket was placed over your body, covering your head as well. You pushed the jacket off your head and smiled at Sae, buckling your seatbelt. When you smiled at him, he saw a glint of stress in your eyes but right now, it seemed like all you wanted to do was go home. He'd ask you about it later but for now he'd focus on driving.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

        You and Sae changed into a comfortable sweater, you having stolen a hoodie from his closet. When you finished changing, he quickly pulled you to the couch, on his lap, making sure that you were comfortable then he looked directly into your eyes.

        "Did anything happen today?" He asked, tone dead serious. "..Yes'' He continued staring at you, initiating a silent request for you to tell him what happened. You were hesitant to tell him but continued anyway, listing everything that happened, from almost getting killed by a car on your way to work to getting overwhelmed with work. When you were done saying everything, you asked him if he could watch Howl's Moving Castle with you to unravel from the day, he silently agreed then proceeded to turn on the tv, playing the movie you mentioned. For half the movie, you watched with your head nuzzled into your boyfriend's chest until you dozed off.

        He stayed in this position with you for a few hours, almost falling asleep in the process but he managed to somehow stay awake. He quietly crept out of your grasp, grabbing his phone and wallet from the table, getting ready to use any and all contacts he possibly could to try and fire your boss and make the life of the person who had almost killed you, a living hell. So don't be surprised if you wake up to find that your boss has been fired. It shouldn't be shocking if you have a boyfriend like Sae.

-I don't actually have a job so... This is probably inaccurate. I also don't know how this ended up this long but... Also, I don't have much on Sae's personality so he might also be a little out of character. 映

[imagineinside]

Star-Like Encounters (Hugh Jackman x Fem!Reader) Chapter 3

Previous Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760895461984976896/star-like-encounters-hugh-jackman-x-femreader?source=share

A/N: Heheheh I had so much fun writing this little Cinderella-esque chapter. I hope you guys have equal amount of fun reading it! :) (Also, as always, I do not know these people nor is this meant to be an accurate representation of them.)

Description: You begin your first semester at a prestigious university with a mix of excitement and chaos. After a frantic start involving a late arrival due to your roommate’s Hollywood-related detour, your day takes an unexpected turn when you meet Hugh Jackman, your roommate’s boss, at a movie studio.

Hugh, intrigued by your expertise in physics, invites you to consult on a film project aiming for scientific accuracy. Balancing your new academic responsibilities with a potential Hollywood cameo, you must navigate your dual interests. As you face your own feelings, you discover that the lines between your professional and personal worlds are more intertwined than you imagined.

Currently Applicable Tags: Sexual themes 18+, Fluff, cocky Hugh Jackman, flirty Hugh Jackman, age gap (55 and late 20s), so much pining, mutual pining, reader under alcoholic influence, grammatical errors, more to come.

The day of the debut event arrived faster than you had anticipated. Hugh had arranged for you to meet with him and his stylists six hours before the event officially began, which you thought was quite an extensive length of time. But then again, you had never gotten ready for an event like this before. 

Hugh had been texting you pictures of various different red and yellow dresses, sent to him originally from his stylist. You think the last time you had worn an evening gown like that was to your high school prom. It had taken a while, but you had all settled on a strapless red gown that would be tailored to your form. What had really caught your attention about the gown was the small trane in the back and the slit up the front left leg. It was simple enough that you wouldn’t draw enough attention but still beautiful enough to match the rest of the attendees.

Hugh had promised to pick you up from your apartment, and as you sat on your couch waiting for the text saying he had arrived butterflies of anxiety flew around your stomach.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Ashley said as she walked into the common room with her lunch in her hand.

“Jee, thanks, Ash,” you snapped back.

Your friend raised her hands in self defense, “I didn’t mean bad by it. You’ll be fine tonight, you don’t need to worry. Hugh’s a good guy.”

“I know that. Just how would you feel if your celebrity crush asked you out to attend the debut of a movie you’ve been eagerly awaiting to arrive in theaters?” Your knees started to nervously bounce now.

“If Jennifer Lawrence asked me out I would make it a night she never forgot. So good that we would run off into the sunset together to live the rest of our lives together,” your friend said dramatically as she scanned the horizon with her hand.

You rolled your eyes, “Sure you would.” Just then your phone vibrated in your hand and a text from Hugh illuminated the screen.

Yup, that was the text saying he was here. You stood from your seat just as a second text came through.

You smiled to yourself at that, at least you weren’t the only person who was nervous about tonight. You thought that he would be accustomed to events like this after so many years in the entertainment business.

Going out to the car, you waved once you spotted Hugh parked on the side of the street. He was waiting outside the front of his car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed over his massive chest. Something about seeing him waiting for you like that made your heart soar.

His eyes lit up once he saw you, a crooked smile forming on his face, “Y/N, it’s great to see you.” If he was truly nervous, he didn’t seem to show it.

You gave him a polite smile, “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

“It was my pleasure,” He said and opened the door for you to slide into the passenger seat. His raw manliness is even more attractive paired with his manners and the way he seems to prioritize your comfort and presence.

The car was merging onto the road when he asked you next, “So, are you nervous?”

You let out a small laugh, “Me? Nervous about being photographed by hundreds of people? With you? And possibly also meeting some of your castmates? And seeing my photos go up online?” You swallowed and squeaked out a quiet, “Yes.”

Hugh laughed and something about the soft baritone made you feel a little better, “You’ll do great. You get to play the part of my sexy arm candy for the night… help to distract them from this old mug.”

You know he mainly meant it as a joke, but you were reeling with which to respond to first: his compliment (which like oh my god, did he just call you sexy?) or the fact that he views himself as anything short of the hottest man on Earth. “I don’t think anyone will pay me any mind, Hugh,” you said with a raised brow and a teasing smile thrown his way. “A fifty-five year old Wolverine never looked so good.” Were you flirting? Maybe just a little…

You weren’t sure if it was the change of lighting as you drove under a tunnel, but you thought you saw a slight blush creep up to his cheeks. “I’m glad you think so. I was slightly nervous at the start of the movie production being able to pay tribute to my old character.”

“Hugh, even if you weren’t still super hot and muscular, I don’t think there could be anyone else to play Wolverine.”

“You think I’m hot, huh?” He asked with a playful smile as he turned down an alleyway to the venue parking lot.

Despite feeling your own blush creep up on you, you decided to try to play it off, “I’m pretty sure every girl in the whole of the world finds you hot. I am far from the only one.”

You let him breathe a moment as he reversed the car into the parking spot, his hand coming up to the back of your headrest–and holy crap his bicep was right there. You barely resisted the urge to bite it.

“Maybe so,” Hugh finally replied as he gathered his belongings and paused for a moment to look you in the eye, “But right now you’re the only one that matters.”

* * *

The two of you were separated into different rooms when you arrived. Apparently it wasn’t going to take as long to get Hugh ready as you, so he was going to be working on other things. His stylist was a sweet, older woman who had years in this field. You gave her full liberty on your hair and makeup, she knew much better than you what would be appropriate.

“My daughter looks so much like you,” she had said sweetly while working on your makeup. “Of course, she never lets me do her makeup like this.”

Brenda, you found her name was, had given you a more subtle look. Nothing too flashy. More a sultry, smokey eye look with a matte red lipstick to match your dress.

“I do prefer to keep my hair up,” you had told her. You found it just bothered you if it hung in front of your face.

“We can work with that,” she said with a small giggle.

She ended up deciding on the very ageless french twist hairstyle, but without the necessary claw clip in the back. About midway through you had lost count of the amount of bobby pins she was hiding in your hair. Finally you were able to change into your dress, and with a couple finishing touches, such as earrings, a necklace and a bracelet, Brenda said you were “red carpet ready!”

It felt like you were living a real-life Cinderella fairytale. 

For one night only.

“Hugh is just through that door,” Brenda said with a knowing smile and a wink.

“Oh, Brenda, there’s nothing going on–”

She cut you off, “I’ve lived enough years on this Earth to know when there is a deeper connection, even if the other people try to deny it.”

Clutching the black handbag she had given you, you turned away from her and opened the door.

You didn’t look up right away, not sure what to do with yourself. You had never gotten this dressed up in your life. Pantsuits were more your style for work, not… this. Not that you didn’t completely enjoy it, though.

A breathless “wow” caught your attention and your eyes snapped up.

Hugh was standing across the room, seemingly in the process of applying his cufflinks. Though something had frozen him in place. 

No, not something… someone. You. 

His chest was moving quickly with his breaths, as if the wind had gotten knocked out of him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you as he took you in, as if his hands were there instead, trailing every curve and flowing line.

Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you gave him a quick spin, “What do you think?”

The next thing you knew, he was moving to you from across the room, cufflinks disregarded on a nearby table. Every step he took echoed through you until he came to rest before you. His hands hovered midair between the two of you, as if he wanted to reach out to you but came to his senses. 

You wanted to tell him to “Do it.” The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them.

Then his hands were on your waist and tugging you closer. You didn’t even realize you had begun to shake until you raised your hand to rest on his chest.

“You look absolutely stunning, Y/N,” the words left his mouth like a whispered prayer.

His hands seemed to move on their own as one trailed further south over the curve of your ass, and the other came up to your chin and tilted your face to meet his. You didn’t tell him to stop.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you whispered to him as you shared the same air. You could feel the puff of his breath across your lips–

A knock at the door had the both of you jumping away. It was like you had just been caught making out at your parents house for the first time.

“Oh, Huuuugh,” a sing-songy voice called from the other side of the door. You could recognize it anywhere, you had seen the Deadpool movies. “I’m comin’ in so you better not be naked.” And just like that the door swung open for Ryan Reynolds to enter the room. 

His eyes did one quick scan before stopping on you, and you weren’t sure why, but you held your breath. “And who is this lovely woman?” He said with a grin and began to approach you, “I’m Ryan, and who might you be?”

“I’m Y/N, the astrophysics Professor helping Hugh with his next film.” You said and shook Ryan’s hand.

“Well he did not say you were such a smokeshow, dear goodness. Don’t tell Blake I said that, she’d kill me,” you couldn’t help but laugh at that, knowing it was all just a joke. “Listen, they need us out there in like 20 minutos, can ya do that?”

20 minutes… your heart felt like it was in your throat. That little episode with Hugh had really distracted you from your nerves, but not anymore.

“Yeah, we’ll be right behind you, just give us a minute?” Hugh asked and gestured for him to leave the room.

“Ah ah ah, no not before a picture of you two, c’mon now,” Ryan said and practically shoved Hugh back towards you.

Something told you that Ryan wouldn’t give up quietly and Hugh gave you an apathetic look. You gave him a small smile and mouthed “it’s okay.” The next thing you knew, Hugh’s giant hand was back around your waist and you were posing for a picture. Once Ryan was apparently satisfied he put his phone down and began walking out of the room.

“You two look great! Trust me, you’ll thank me for the picture later.” With a click of the door, he was gone as fast as he had arrived.

A heavy silence fell over the small dressing room once Ryan had made his exit. You weren’t entirely sure where to pick up after what you had gotten interrupted from. Were you guys seriously about to kiss? For some reason you have a hard time believing Hugh would want to kiss you of all people. He could have literally anyone he wanted.

Distantly, you heard Hugh ask you a question. Something about a photo, maybe? You were so in your own thoughts that you just mumbled a “yeah” and didn’t give it much thought.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” Hugh asked, his hand appearing on your shoulder.

You blinked yourself out of whatever trance you had put yourself in, “Uh, yeah, sorry.” You paused for a moment, perhaps this would be the best time to be honest with Hugh. “Listen, I don’t know if I can do this…”

“What do you mean?” concern etched itself between Hugh’s eyebrows.

“I’m going to probably be asked questions I don’t know the answer to out there. I don’t know the first thing about posing in front of a camera. I am not star material, I spent nearly my entire graduate years inside my dorm room. I kid you not, I was so pale I scared my roommate ‘cause she thought I was a ghost one night.”

Your last comment made Hugh burst out laughing, the worry on his face disappearing almost immediately. You smacked him, not hard, with your black clutch purse. “Stop it!” You exclaimed, now beginning to fight your own laughter, “I’m actually nervous here!”

“Sorry,” he giggled, hand coming up to block his mouth as if that would stop his laughter, “I can just picture it so well–”

“Ah, jee, thanks. That makes me feel wonderful.”

Hugh wiped tears from his eyes and turned to look at you sincerely, “You are wonderful. But if you don’t want to go out there, then you can just skip the red carpet and go straight to the theater.”

You blinked up at him, “You promise?”

“I will pinky promise if you would like.”

You thought for a moment, “Yes, that would make me feel better.”

Hugh let out another laugh, “You don’t stop surprising me.” He linked your pinkies together and squeezed tightly, “I pinky promise you.”

Then, with a tenacity that surprised you after his hesitation earlier, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him until your chests were flush together. “Though it would be their loss not getting to see how absolutely amazing you look tonight.”

The air was beginning to feel heavy again as tension crackled between the two of you. You weren’t sure you would stop yourself if it came to another moment like before, and it didn’t seem that Ryan was going to come swooping back in. So, to save yourself from any future embarrassment, you playfully shoved Hugh away, his grip on your waist releasing, and you said, “You better get finished up there. Don’t want to be the one to make us late now would you?”

Hugh then finished putting together his suit, which was an all black ensemble but with a red handkerchief to presumably match your dress.

“How do I look?” he asked and gave a quick spin, mocking what you had done earlier.

“Very dashing,” you said and threw the magazine you had been flipping through to the side.

Before you could push yourself to a stand, Hugh was there with his hand outstretched in front of you. You smiled shyly at him before placing your hand in his and allowing him to pull you up next to him. “As I said, you can still leave the carpet if it gets overwhelming for you.”

As the two of you approached the door, your left hand rested on his bicep as he held you close up next to him. It was definitely worth standing so close, his bicep felt like a rock beneath your hand. “Thank you, Hugh.”

He gave you the most genuine smile you think you have ever seen before he leaned down and placed a quick kiss to the top of your head. And just like that, you were walking out for your very first red carpet event.

* * *

Walking out onto the carpet for the first time was even more overwhelming than you thought it would be. The immediate flashing of cameras had you recoiling and gripping onto Hugh’s arm even tighter. His other hand came up to rest on yours as another form of reassurance. Then he leaned down until his lips brushed on the crest of your ear to whisper, “Show them how beautiful you are.”

Lifting your head back up you squinted your eyes into the flashing of the cameras and gave Hugh’s arm a thankful squeeze. There was so much talking and photographers yelling around you that you weren’t entirely sure where to go or what to do, so you followed Hugh’s lead.

It was slightly mesmerizing to watch Hugh be in his element on the carpet. The way he moved into poses with you almost automatically helped you feel more confident, and you would pause every few paces to let photographers get their desired pictures. Later down the carpet, Hugh got pulled into a few interviews with Ryan, but that gave you a chance to talk to Blake Lively for the first time. You had absolutely loved her “Lady Liberty” look a couple years ago at the Met Gala. The two of you had actually exchanged phone numbers in the hopes of staying in contact.

“You doing alright?” Hugh asked when he and Ryan walked back over to you and Blake. His hand slid across your waist and stayed there, notched around your back, as if it was his favorite place to be.

You smiled up at him, “Yeah, I’m actually really enjoying this.” You settled a hand on his chest and looked at him in his soft, brown eyes. “Hugh, thank you for this experience.”

He smiled back at you, the crows feet forming in the corner of his eyes, “I’m not sure if this night was more for you or for me.”

You were about to ask him what he meant when Ryan exclaimed you guys should go get your seats in the showroom before everyone else got there first. You had agreed it was a good idea, and the two of you followed after Hugh’s costar.

The four of you got seats all in a row, with–of course–Ryan and Hugh sitting next to each other. You couldn’t believe that you were really going to get to see the movie with the two starring actors sitting right beside you. You would have to be careful to keep your fangirling to a minimum.

Watching the movie felt like a spiritual experience, or maybe that was just because the waiters kept coming by and handing you more champagne which you were definitely getting tipsy off of. Either way, it was amazing. It was everything you had ever wanted all wrapped up into one two hour length film. The comic accurate Wolverine had you bursting out laughing and asking Hugh how they had made him so tiny. Getting to see all the old mutants from the X-Men was also such a great experience. The Honda Odyssey fight scene would go down in your mind as one of the best choreographed fight scenes of all time. And don’t even get you started on comic-accurate Blade, Elektra, and Gambit. Plus X-23 coming back had you crying tears of joy on the inside.

Now you were watching the final scenes of the movie when Deadpool goes down to stop the machine from destroying his world. You didn’t even try to stop the tears from falling down your face at the noble sacrifice.

Hugh must have heard your quiet sniffles as you tried to hide your embarrassing emotions over fictional characters you had grown so attached to. “Hey,” he whispered, “it’s gonna be alright.” His hand fell to your thigh and his thumb began rubbing soothing patterns against your skin.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice watery from crying, “It’s just so beautiful. I wish I wasn’t ruining my makeup right now though.”

Hugh let out a low chuckle, “You still look beautiful to me.”

When you looked back up to the screen, it felt like your world was coming to a standstill. Right there, with Like a Prayer by Madonna playing in the background, was a very ripped, glazed Hawaiian roll looking Hugh Jackman all over the big screen. You didn’t even realize your jaw had dropped open until you heard laughter from beside you as Hugh took in your reaction. Deadpool’s reaction in the movie was also totally warranted.

“I don’t know if I’m turned on or still sad that now Wolverine and Deadpool are both going to die,” you whispered to Hugh beside you who gave your thigh a playful squeeze.

You watched the remaining moments of the movie at the edge of your seat, wishing that it would never end.

“Wow,” you said as the lights turned back on and people began filing out of the showroom. “That was…That was better than sex.”

“Amen,” Ryan replied as he helped Blake put her jacket back on. “Catch you later, Hugh.” You waved Ryan and Blake goodbye as they left the theater.

“I think that was the most jacked Wolverine has ever been in any movie.”

Hugh laughed and flashed his bright smile at you, “I definitely didn’t get that fit without a whole team to help me do it.”

You gave him a soft smile in return, “You did great in the movie, Hugh. I think that will go down as one of the best MCU movies, like, ever. I don’t think that was the worst Wolverine, I think he was the best one.”

Hugh tilted his head at you, “What makes you say that?”

“Because he had so many demons following him. He lost everyone. Yet he still found a new purpose to do better. You can’t be the worst version of yourself if you do that.”

“You look for the good in everyone don’t you?” He said with a smile as he stood from his chair and extended a hand to help you up. Ever the gentleman.

When you went to stand, your feet wobbled beneath you and fell forward like a damsel in distress. Strong arms held you upwards and you heard a laugh rumble up from Hugh’s chest. “Sorry,” you mumbled and righted yourself, “I think I had one-too-many glasses of champagne. Just hopefully I don’t throw up,” as soon as the words left your mouth you cringed at yourself outwardly. 

“Sorry, that was gross. Very not ladylike. And you are always such a gentleman. It’s like you were born to open doors for me and help me up from a chair. Sorry, I’m drunk. Don’t hold anything I’m saying against me tomorrow.” You mumbled into your hand as you realized you were rambling on. Jeez, that must have been some strong champagne.

“Maybe I should take you home?” Hugh offered as he held one arm around you and the other in your left hand, helping to steady you down the steps towards the exit.

“No, God, I’m sorry. I’m really making a fool of myself–”

“That’s not it.” Hugh cut you off, “I just want to make sure you get comfortable tonight and do whatever you need.”

“You’re so nice,” You said and looked up to his heartbreakingly handsome face, tears forming at the edges of your eyes, “I’m an emotional drunk, you can’t be that nice or I’m gonna cry.” Hugh laughed at that, at least he was able to find you humorous in this state. “Ashley also texted me and told me she was having a girl over tonight… I don’t want to walk in on her again.” You shivered, “We barely got past it the last time.”

Hugh seemed to cringe at whatever mental image he had pictured as well, “Alright, then where were you planning on going tonight?”

“I asked our friend Janet but she didn’t respond. Oh no!” You exclaimed, “I’m going to be homeless!”

Hugh laughed and guided you outside towards the back parking lot where his car was surely still waiting for the both of you. “You’re not going to be homeless. If you need to, you can spend the night at my apartment.”

“Nonononono,” you hurried to say, the words slurring together, “I can’t stay at your apartment. I cannot see where the magic happens.”

“Where the mag–What are you saying, goofball?” Hugh laughed again as he opened the door for you and you did not slide into the seat gracefully, as much as you tried.

“You’re so hot. There’s no way I can spend the night at your place. I want to too much.”

Hugh began driving out of the parking lot and the motion of the vehicle made your head spin even more. “Why not just try to get a little shut eye, it’s a thirty minute drive to get there from here.”

* * *

You didn’t even realize you had passed out in Hugh Jackman’s car until you heard the hum of the engine come to a stop and the lights flick out. You had drool sliding down the side of your mouth which you tried to slyly wipe away.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Hugh greeted and reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You reveled in the light graze of his fingers as they floated against your skin. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

The nap had actually helped to sober you up a lot, though you would never admit that he was right, of course. You were able to walk up to his apartment without any assistance in not falling over, though Hugh still stayed behind you in case you lost your balance. Once you got inside, your jaw felt like it fell to the floor. This one apartment was probably four times the size of the one you shared with Ashley, and it even had a staircase up to a second floor. So there wasn’t just one floor for one apartment? This was an entirely new concept to you.

And there was an entire wall of windows. You basically dashed over to them as you looked out to the sea just West of you and the city lights scattering the Southern coastline.

“Wow,” you breathed, your breath fogging up the glass.

“I know,” Hugh said from behind you, “once I saw the view I knew I had to have this place.” He reached forward and placed a gentle hand on your lower back. “Why don’t you go wash up in the master bath, I’ll get some clothes laid out for you.”

You blushed and mumbled a thank you before following Hugh up the stairs. The master bedroom alone was the size of your apartment, though you didn’t want to say anything. You’re sure Hugh isn’t the type to rub his financial status in other people’s faces, and therefore he probably doesn’t like people making comments on it either.

“Use whatever you need,” Hugh said with a smile as you worked on taking your heels off on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you blushed, embarrassment flooding over you. “I’m really sorry about getting so drunk, Hugh. I don’t want you to think that’s normal for me.”

Hugh waved you away and came to sit next to you, the bed dipping from his weight as he sat down, “Tonight was about you enjoying the experience and the movie, which you did. I’m glad that you were there with me.”

“Did I say anything too unhinged? My memory is a bit fuzzy right before I passed out.”

Hugh appeared to give it some thought, “No, just that you think I’m hot.” He said with a mischievous smile.

You rolled your eyes as a smile grew on your own face, “Well I thought that was already obvious.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, duh, I’ve only had a massive crush on you since The Greatest Showman,” the second the words left your mouth you realized what you had said. 

The smile dropped from your face almost immediately as you grabbed a nearby blanket and threw it over your head to pretend you could simply disappear. You guessed that while you didn’t feel drunk anymore, your filter was still working on coming back. 

“Y/N,” Hugh called and tugged at the blanket but you fought to keep it in place.

“No, I’m never coming out of here.”

“Sweetheart, let me see your face,” something about the way he said it made you allow him to peel the blanket off of you. You weren’t ready to look at him again, though it felt like his eyes were looking straight through you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For what, sweetheart?” Hugh asked as his hand lifted your chin until you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“For ruining whatever friendship we had the possibility of creating.”

“Baby,” he purred, his voice like silk, “this was never going to be only a friendship.” Then his lips were on yours.

The kiss wasn’t frantic or steamy like you thought it would be. It was soft, and gentle, like he was just testing the water to see if either of you would get burned. You opened up to him, becoming pliant under his strong hand that was still on your cheek. A deep moan echoed up from his throat to urge you on, the sound making you squeeze your thighs together as you gripped around nothing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hugh whispered, sounding absolutely breathless as he broke the kiss, only to come back for more.

You opened up for him when his tongue requested entrance and it was like neither of you could get enough. Sharing the same breath wasn’t enough anymore, you needed to be closer. You pushed against his chest, to which you received very little resistance before he laid back on the bed, all spread out for you. Something about seeing him flushed and breathing heavily because of you really messed with your head.

Before you had a chance to overthink it, you swung your leg over him and settled over his abdomen. Your hips grinded down on their own accord, though it rewarded you with a satisfying groan from the man at your mercy beneath you. You would do that all night if it meant you got to hear him make those noises.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Hugh gasped and his hands shot out to your hips with a grip you were sure would leave bruises in the morning.

“I think I do,” you whispered, “because you do it to me, too.”

Both of you moved at the same time, lips crashing together. You didn’t even mind that your teeth knocked together as he ravaged you. His left hand came up to grip at the back of your head, holding you right where he wanted you. You felt him rut up against you in search of friction, and God you wanted it so badly too, but–

“Hugh,” you pulled away, breathless and lips red from kissing, “I think we’re getting carried away.” He stayed beneath you, chest heaving, as if he was still trying to process your words. “I don’t… I think we should talk once I don’t have any alcohol left in me.”

Hugh nodded, his mouth parted as if he was still contemplating whether to kiss you again or not. “Alright, sweetheart, I’ll let you get washed up. I’ll get you some water and a Liquid IV as well.”

“Thank you,” you said and placed a small kiss on his lips before sliding off of him as a reminder it wasn’t over.

You hadn’t realized the extent to which you had affected him until you looked back to see a tent in his dress slacks as he sat up. You quickly averted your gaze and strutted into the washroom.

Once you were done, just as promised, Hugh had left (what you would assume) was one of his shirts laid out on the bed, as well as water and a Liquid IV on the nightstand. Alongside it was a folded note that read: I’m sleeping in the guest bed, I don’t think I would be able to control myself with you tonight. Sleep as long as you need, I’ll have breakfast ready in the morning. ♥️

You went to bed that night with a surge of hope in your chest.

Bonus, Hugh’s Instagram Post:

Taglist: @corvusmorte, @chinchie, @reinabxitch, @shortnloud, @nizem8, @rexmeshlasblog (if you aren't on this last but want to be let me know!)

[tomscocksleeve]

The Older Neighbor ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Tom kaulitz x female Reader

Warnings: some smut, age gap, male (rec), smoking, drugs, possessiveness, angst to fluff

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Monday morning at 7:30 you were getting ready for school and doing your makeup. Your vanity was right by the window that also happened to be your neighbors window. You and him always had some sort of little thing but never actually engaged with each other like a real conversation or texted or even spoken at school. While you were doing your mascara he purposely left his curtains open and he took his night shirt off revealing his muscled body and you messed up your mascara because you ended up distracted. He winked and giggled at the mascara that was on your nose. “Fuck…” you said in embarrassment.

Finally you were ready and you grabbed your bag and you saw your neighbor. Today was different he walked over to you with a smile and he held onto your school bag stopping you from walking. “Wait… we lived next to each other for years and never talked. Hello, I’m Tom.” The boy spoke with his heavy German accent. You smiled at him and you told him your name and his smile was absolutely precious. His teeth were super cute and his lip ring complimented his lips perfectly. You and him walked to school and you noticed he kept looking at you almost the whole time. “What is it? Is there something on my face?” You asked worried you didn’t get all the mascara off. He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re just pretty.” He said. You were always told that by many people so you just said thank you without giving it a second thought. Once you arrived to school the girls glared at you since you walked in with Tom. You knew Tom always received attention but it’s not like this was your fault it was his idea.

You rolled your eyes at the girls before you were going to head to your locker. Tom grabbed your wrist before you could leave him “wait… there’s a party tonight so take my number Kay?” You couldn’t even reply with a yes or no. You took the piece of paper and just nodded and walked off. Later at your locker one of the bitchy girls stopped you and was being a brat. “Do you think you can take MY Tommy from me?!” She said in a whiney tone. You rolled your eyes and she pushed you against the locker. “Back off slut HES mine!” That set you over the edge. A slut? Seriously? You punched the girl in the face and she fell back ending up with a bloody nose. “Fuck you.” You said before walking away.

In second period you were called to the office and they said you were suspended for a week for violence on school grounds and you were so pissed off. You grabbed your bag and left the school walking home. At your house you were watching T.V in your lazy outfit which was just shorts and a sports bra until you received a text.

Unknown:

Heard you got sent home.

Do you want me to bring u notes?

You:

Who is this?

Unknown:

It’s Tom silly 😜

You:

Sure.

You completely forgot to text him and you looked at the piece of paper with his number and crumbled it away. Your friend must’ve given it to him. He’s so persistent it’s sort of cute? Yet annoying… you smacked yourself grossed out by your thoughts.

In the afternoon Tom came over and you lead him up to your room. He smiled and he gave you the notes. As you copied them down he looked at you the entire time, it caught your attention so you looked up into his dark brown eyes. “What is it?” You ask. And he just shook his head implying nothing and it was just silence. After you were done he finally spoke. “You’re pretty, truly pretty.” You thought he was just causally saying it and you had replied: “yeah, I’m told that a lot. Thanks.” “You heard it, but do you truly know it?” Him saying that caught you off guard and you looked into his eyes again with a mixture of confusion and a bit of annoyance??

He leaned forward putting his hand on your cheek. “May I kiss you? Please?” You leaned into his hand and nodded. It felt right in the moment. He smiled and leaned in kissing you softly. You closed your eyes as you felt him caress your cheek and his lips were so soft and sweet. You both had a small make out session before he broke the kiss. “So the party tonight? Are you going?” You nodded and he kissed your cheek.

You both had fun for a while before he went home to get ready for the party.

Timeskip-2 hours later:

At the party your hair was curled, you wore a short black dress with black heels had dark makeup on with red lipstick and red press ons. You went straight for the drinks and poured a shot of vodka to get the party started. They started playing your favorite song and you got so excited and you danced with some other people that crowded the area. As you danced you felt hands grab your waist and you turned to see who it was and it was the host of the party. Since you just wanted to have fun you smiled and talked with him introducing yourself to him and such. Tom did not like that. He walked up to you both and he grabbed your wrist before holding your waist glaring at the host. “She’s taken.” He said coldly. You looked into his eyes and he seemed so pissed it was so unsettling.

He pulled you into one of the extra rooms before closing and locking the door. “What the hell?!” He said pissed off. You were so confused why he was so mad. But him mad was sexy. “What’s your problem?” You said loudly and he leaned closer so that his chest was pressing on yours. “You are mine. My date. You can’t just flirt with that sleaze bag in front of me!” You were feeling a little turned on. “Maybe.. I’ll just have to show everyone that you’re mine.” He started kissing your neck and leaving marks and it felt so good to even push him off. He sucked and licked the bruises before kissing your jawline. You started feeling wet that it felt like it was dripping down your thigh.

He leaned you against the bed and he pulled your dress down marking your chest and collarbones and he kissed your lips hungrily. “Scheiße, du bist so sexy” he whispered into your ear. You wrapped your arms around him and he started pulling your dress off completely. He noticed the wet spot in your panties and he chuckled. “Excited now are we?” He said and you just nodded craving his warm touch. You couldn’t believe you were going to do this with him… ybut you wanted to live young and you kissed him. He ran his hands up and down your body and he pulled your panties off.

He wasted no time into putting his erection inside of you and groaning at the warmth he felt when he was in you. So tight and perfect. As he fucked you, you moaned out his name and he smiled as he went faster and faster. “Such a good girl f’me taking me in so well.” As he was about to cum he pulled out leaving you empty and you groaned and he put his dick inside your mouth. “Take it all baby.. suck it.” You happily did so and tears streamed down your face as you sucked him dry. He came inside your mouth and you swallowed most of it but some left your mouth and he smiled gently and wiped it off.

He placed a kiss on your forehead praising you for doing such an amazing job.

Timeskip-a week later

By now you and Tom flirted a lot yet you both haven’t had sex except for the party. What Tom didn’t know was that you had a bit of a drug addiction. The host at the party was your dealer, and you were in the park and you were paying him for some heroin as you grabbed it and started walking back home Tom had followed you and yanked the heroin from you. “What the fuck y/n?! This stuff is dangerous.” You jumped surprised that he was behind you and you could tell he was hurt and angry he grabbed your face harshly and yelled at you causing you to cry. “You can’t be doing this stuff! It’s not safe I care about you? Don’t you care about us!?” He let go dropping the heroin on the ground and you picked it up putting it in your pocket before following him. “Tom wait please I’m sorry.. I was gonna tell you!” “You have been doing this for a while!?” He said angry. He felt upset and he kissed you before walking away and you cried.

When you went home you noticed he had shut the curtain and he hadn’t texted you, you decided to go to his house and knock on the door. He answered and he looked like he didn’t want to see you but before he could close the door you stopped him. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” He said in defeat. You nod before saying “I’ll quit okay? I want something more with us.” “I will be here and help you every step of the way.” He kissed you and kissed your head before letting you inside.

For hours you talked and opened up to him about everything and why you started doing drugs and he grabbed your hand. “Please be my girlfriend.” He said and you smiled kissing him. “Of course I will.”

◌•·················•·················•◌ ◌•·················•·················•◌

I won’t be posting tomorrow unless I’m truly bored so I hope you guys enjoyed this!!

Also little voting thing. Should I start posting and writing on Wattpad again?

[kxmisato]

♡ AUTUMN — DAN HENG

↳ characters : exbf!dan heng x gn!reader

↳ genre : fluff, like a pinch of angst

↳ synopsis : after receiving a text from your ex-boyfriend’s little sister asking to hang out and accepting, you go over to their house. there’s no way you’d see him again, right?

↳ note : opera house by cigarettes after sex (he is so bf, so autumn time bf, so fall time.)

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis): 

y/n are you busy

i miss you a lot

can we hang out

you:

hi bai

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

hi

you:

i miss you too and no i’m not busy, i’m on fall break

idk if we should hang out though,

i don’t want to make dan heng uncomfortable

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

who cares about him !!

i’m talking about you and me

not him

he STINKS

you:

LOL

ur so cute bailu

but you shouldn’t say that about ur brother

he cares about you a lot

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

ya but

i’m mad at him

bc you guys broke up

you:

we both agreed to break up bailu

we just got busy with midterms

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

do you still love him?

you:

dang

right into the deep questions, huh bai?

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

IM SORRY Y/N

you:

LMAO

it’s okay dw

yeah i still do love him

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

then will you get back together?

pls get back together

i miss you

you:

i would like to get back together but i don’t know if he wants to

i miss you too

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

can we please hang out

we can do it when he’s not home

i will text you when he leaves the house

i think he’s going to the library today

okay?

you:

okay bai

but i think you should tell him before i come over

bailu ♡ (dan heng sis):

fine

i will see you soon !!

i’m sooo excoted !!!!

excited* !!!!

you:

me too!!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

though bailu said that she would tell her older brother, she in fact did not. about half an hour after she had sent ‘he’s gone !!! come over FAST !!!’ and made your way over, you heard the front door to the house unlock. 

internally you were hoping it was their mom coming home from work, but a sliver of you also hoped it was dan heng. 

even though your break up was a mutual one, it still stung, bad. the two of you agreed to try and avoid each other on campus, thinking it would make things easier for you but instead it made you feel emptier.

someone who you had talked to everyday for 2 years had become a stranger in the matter of seconds, he was a part of your routine and you were a part of his, the sudden removal of each other made it hard to accept.

which is why you were hoping it was him walking through that door. then when it was, that pinch of excitement you had quickly faded into anxiety as your stomach dropped when his face came into view.

it was the first time you had seen him in 7 months, he looked the same. same blue eyes, same beauty mark on his neck, same brown hair, but a bit shorter, did he get a haircut?

“oh.” is the first thing he said when he seen you. 

oh? really? ‘oh’ is all you’re going to say?

“bailu, you said that you told him that i was coming over?” you turned to the girl.

“o-oh… i did? i must’ve forgotten to ask…” she stumbles out, pink flush creeping it’s way up the back of her neck to her cheeks. “i was going to ask him but he was already in his car when i was going to…”

you sigh, “it’s okay bai, i’m not mad at you. i think i might just leave though.”

“what?! no! please don’t leave, i’ve missed you so much, y/n.” there’s a tremble in bailu’s voice. “please.”

“you can stay,” dan heng interrupts. “i don’t mind.”

“you’re not uncomfortable?” you ask, looking up hesitantly. though you’re exes, you still care and respect him.

“yeah, it’s okay.” he gives you a quick smile. “i’ll just be in my room.”

“oh, uh, okay, thank you.” you sputter, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“no problem.” he says, and as you turn back around to look at bailu, you hear his feet pad heavily down the hall.

“you can’t do that again bailu, okay? i’ve missed you too, but it’s not fair to dan heng to have me be here without him knowing.”

“okay… i promise i won’t do it again. i just really missed you.” she mumbles.

“i’ve missed you too,” you sigh lightly and then change the subject. “so what movie did you want to watch? i think you’d like the princess diaries.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

during the first half of the movie, bailu was enthralled by it. but once you had been watching for half an hour, bailu let out her first yawn. then five minutes later, she let out another one, and then ten minutes later, she was passed out on her end of the couch.

you looked over and smiled at her sleeping form, then got up and covered her with the throw blanket you were occupying.

you stretched lightly, feeling the need to straighten out after lounging in the same position for a while, then picked up your empty cup of tea on the coffee table and made your way to the kitchen.

everything in the house was the exact same, considering how long you and dan heng have been broken up for, regardless if it’s felt like longer than it has been.

family photos litter the walls, photos of bailu and dan heng when they were babies, wedding photos, and dan heng’s graduation photo. you were in that photo, wearing a matching cap and gown with him and cheesy smiles.

making your way into the kitchen, you rinse your empty cup with water and think about why that picture was still up. 

why didn’t they change it out?

too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear dan heng’s footsteps head towards the kitchen until you heard his voice.

“oh. sorry, i’ll just come back later.” he says, and goes to turn around.

“no! sorry, no it’s, um, it’s okay. i was just putting my cup in the sink. besides it’s your house, i’m just a guest in it.” you rush out.

“ah, okay,” he replies, making his way past you and grabs a glass out of one of the upper cabinets. “you know you’re not just a guest, right?”

“what do you mean?” you turn and ask, wanting to look at his eyes but breaking eye contact as soon as his eyes met yours.

“my mom and bailu love you, you’re basically family to them.”

“oh, but aren’t you uncomfortable?” you ask, though you wanted to also know what you were to him. were you family to him too? does he still love you?

“no. i’m not.” he says matter-of-factly.

“really?”

“really.”

“...”

“...”

the silence between the two of you was deafening but oddly, it wasn’t uncomfortable. it almost felt like the two of you had never broken up. like you were just talking in the kitchen during winter break as you had before, and it not being 7 months since the last time you talked.

“...i–” you start.

“can we talk about something?” he interrupts.

“yeah, what is it?” you ask.

dan heng gets up from where he was leaning against the counter, making his way over to the sliding glass doors to the backyard. “do you mind if we talk out here?”

“no, not at all.” you say.

dan heng motions for you to head out first, and you mumble a quick ‘thank you’ as you step out of the doors, with him following close behind you. 

as you walk out, you’re met with the crisp autumn air. the coolness brushes against your cheeks as your eyes settle on the falling leaves of trees in his backyard.

he closes the doors as you sit down in one of the lounge chairs on the deck, then he makes his way over to sit in the one across from yours.

“so…” you play with the hem of your sweater, “what did you want to talk about?” 

does he want to talk about us?

“i.. uh…” he starts. “how have you been?”

how have i been? that’s what he wants to ask?

“i’ve been fine, i guess? what about you?”

“i’ve been,” he clears his throat. “fine too. how were your midterms?”

“they went okay…?” 

this is weird, you think.

“that’s good. i’m glad they went well.”

then the same silence from before is back, but this one is awkward, deafening. it takes up the air of the conversation and feels suffocating.

“so, what did you want to ask me, dan heng? or did you just want to catch up?” you question.

instead of answering your question, dan heng remains silent, his eyes meeting yours and then immediately looking away.

you let out a sigh as you stand up from where you were seated. that slightest bit of hope you held onto for the conversation about your relationship quickly dissipated.

“i think i’m just going to go, it’s getting late anyways and bailu has school tomorrow, right?” you say and walk to the sliding doors. “could you let her know that i paused the movie when she fell asleep? i don’t want her to wake up and get upset thinking that she missed the rest of i–”

“i’ve missed you.” he finally says.

you turn to look at him again, his back is facing towards you and his head is hanging low.

“what…?” you mumble quietly.

“i’ve missed you, and i think that we should try again.”

“really?” you say in disbelief. he had seemed so unbothered when he seen you for the first time earlier today. you had thought that you were the only one affected by seeing each other for the first time in months.

“i’ve been thinking about you non-stop since we broke up. and not being able to talk to you, see you, touch you, was horrible.” he breathes out. “i tried to stop thinking about you, but wherever i go, i get reminded of you.”

you walk back over and stand in front of him. 

“i’ve missed you too. so much.” you admit.

“i’ve wanted to call you so many times, i’ve wanted to see you so badly. see your mom, bailu, you. i missed you so much, dan heng.” you croak out, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes as you try to hold them back.

dan heng stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. he rests his head in the crook of your neck, refamiliarizing himself with the smell of your perfume. 

vanilla and cashmere, like always for the fall time he thinks.

when his arms crept around your waist, yours wrapped around his neck and you melted into his warmth again, it contrasting to the cool air of fall.

your hands play with the bottom locks of his hair as he pulls you impossibly tighter against him, afraid that if he lets you go, you’ll never come back.

when you pull back, you study his face again. the same blue eyes, same pouty lips, same beauty mark on his neck. the same dan heng. 

“i like your haircut by the way” you giggle and a light smile spreads across his lips.

“yeah?” he says. 

“yeah, it suits you.”

[stubz]

"I think Glip and Kal don't like me."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, we just don't talk. Like it's fine when your here or Quip is here but when you guys leave we don't really talk."

"Have you tried? Like making small talk?"

"Yeah but its really awkward and short." Max sighs leaning back in his chair.

"Hmmm...oh my god Piper! Take that off Marl!"

He watches as his friend and co-worker runs off to deal with Piper running off with Marl, treating the youngling as a stuffie to dress. Marl cackled as they were carried off by the human.

"Too bad you don't talk to them like my Mapa, they are a chatter bug."

"Your Mapa is a chatter bug? Really Dali?" he found it hard to believe that Calis would be chatty. The ever so serious and stoic first mate.

"Yeah but only when Pomo gets them talking. Usually about go-sip."

"Gossip huh?"

.

"He sent the email to everyone. Everyone! He sent all the texts and messages between them to everyone to show them what she said about us."

"Oh my god what a power move...this dude is my hero." Quip nods in agreement.

"Want me to read em?"

"Max I would kill you if you didn't."

"Seconded."

..

"-I feel unsafe in this hostile environment. You told me it was fine, that I could go whenever."

"Go whenever? ...she left like a day before the wedding! A day! She had 3 goddamn months!! And hostile??? Says the woman who tried to call the cops on her own roommate for being 'too loud'!!" shouts Quip crushing the drink in his hand.

"It gets better."

"HOW?!" cries Kim

"Hold up! Pause! I need a new drink!"

"Oh get me one too will you?" the humans call out.

...

"-I'll be changing the locks and hereby request to you all who I have sent this email to to not contact her or respond to her. Thanks for reading and Tiffany, I'm willing to talk to when you come back from your trip. Bring your keys."

"Oh shit its done! She's dumped. He's dumping her as soon as she comes home!"

"I need a copy of this or just you to read it to me again and again for a month."

"Oh with pleasure, I love reading this. It never gets old."

"Thank you for sharing this. This was the best gossip I've had in years. Come on, desert on me!" she shouts grabbing her friends arms leading them back to the cafeteria.

....

"Hey Max!" he looks up from his lunch and sees Quip with Kal and Glip.

"Hey guys."

"I was telling these two about the shipwreck you told me and they won't stop hounding me about asking you for a copy of the email or in depth detail so here." he shoves his two embarrassed partners forwards to the human

"I'd love to hear it again but I gotta return something before the place closes. I'll be back in an hour, have fun!" he calls waving to them

"...so how much do you guys know?"

"...a bit but could you start from the beginning?"

"Like when she said she hurt her back a week after flaking on doing her part of the wedding planning."

"Gotcha. So she says that she hurt her back a week after going to the gym, which makes no sense because back injuries hurt right after or hours after the thing you did!"

"Oh she's lying."

"Did they kick her out of the wedding planning?"

"No, because they don't want to cause drama about this. Like its hard to subtlety make a person prove their back is hurt. Also the job they gave her was the smallest thing so."

"What was her job?"

"Making sure there was enough napkins and balloons."

"Get a hint Tiffany!"

"That's so sad."

.....

"So I heard you're gossip buddies with Kal and Glip?"

"Yep. Spent 3 hours sharing gossip."

"..."

"You wanna hear it?"

"Yes!"

"Thought you would. Wrote down the key notes of each story."

"This is why we're best friends!!"

[jjwantsme]

I Wanna Be Saved!

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

summary: in which he finally saves his favorite hoe. (part II to ‘Captain Save A Hoe’)

warnings: nsfw, lowercase intended, cussing, kiara still lowk being mean😭, slutshaming, promiscuous!reader, mentions of smut, kinda short

authors note: i love this little theory sm 🥲🥲🥲 thank yall for reading

masterlist

JJ looked zoned-out while John B went on about some stupid theory, a theory that he frankly didn’t care about. how could he care when hours earlier, his girl walked out on him?

okay, alright, she technically wasn’t his girl. but, in his mind, he was certainly her boy.

“JJ, are you even listening?” kiara looked at him with a face of annoyance.

“yeah, you were like, just straight up ignoring everything we said,” pope said in his monotone voice, only aggravating the boy in question even further

“everything is fucked, bro!” the blondie huffed, standing up off the couch as he shocked the other three teenagers. “y’all are confusing and annoying the shit out of me with this dumbass mystery thing, as if we’re in a fucking tv show! this is real life, okay?! we’re not gonna find fucking gold. listen, my favorite fucktoy walked out on me, okay, how the fuck am i supposed to pay attention?! also, i haven’t gotten high in, like, 25 hours and i’m getting withdrawals.”

the room stayed silent for a solid 6 seconds once JJ finished his stressed rant, the other teenagers looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. what the fuck was he talking about?

“uh, okay, let’s disregard the gold thing for a few minutes- what do you mean by ‘fucktoy’?” pope interrupted the silence, kiara nodding slowly in agreement to his statement.

JJ sighed and sat back on his spot on the couch, resting his forehead in his hands, “y/n, bro-“

“you fucked her?!” kiara exclaimed, her eyebrows furrowing in a mix of anger and confusion. “i literally told you that she was a bitch!”

“yo, don’t talk about her that way,” he lifted his head off his hands, “she’s actually cool, alright? i really, really like her.”

“so, then…what’s the problem?” john b shrugged slightly with raised eyebrows.

“that is the problem, dude! she’s pissed ‘cause we agreed on no actual feelings involved, but of course, i fucking folded.”

“such a bitch,” kiara mumbled, making JJ roll his eyes.

“i’m confused,” pope narrowed his eyes.

the boy groaned, “jesus, pope, how slow are you? she made me bust a couple times and now i’m ready for marriage!”

“woah-“

“look, J, you’ll get over her. there’s hundreds of hot girls on this island, you’ll be fine. now, can we please stay focused on becoming rich?” kiara spoke louder this time, cutting off pope’s shocked reaction to JJ’s explanation.

“whatever,” JJ mumbled as john b took the opportunity to plan out the next step to finding the mind-boggling gold.

they just didn’t get it.

maybe she is a hoe, JJ thought. maybe he was just another check off of the promiscuous girl’s list of dicks to suck. but, if she is a hoe, she certainly is his favorite.

y/n groaned as she woke up in another man’s bed.

after leaving JJ, she was desperate to find someone as good as him- but, she had been failing miserably.

they never made her feel as good as he did, and probably never will. JJ was different.

sex with these men was just boring. sure, they weren’t bad, but none of them were the best. it was just plain old sex. but, with JJ, it was like her pussy was made for him.

she couldn’t keep entertaining all these other boys anymore. she needed a man, she needed her man.

so, she swallowed her pride and typed up a text. ‘missing the taste of you’, she sent to him.

she was shocked when her phone dinged shortly after. ‘yeah? i’m missing the feeling of you’, he replied back to her.

yeah. that settles it. her pussy was made for him.

the teens continued their back and forth vulgar texts for the rest of the week. photographs of his dick being sent to her, voice memos of her cumming around a sex toy being sent to him.

‘i wanna see you again’, y/n said one day, and JJ would be idiotic to decline.

they agreed on a place and time. 2:00 AM in y/n’s bedroom. they clarified that there wouldn’t be much talking involved, they just wanted to feel each other’s bodies again.

he wanted to feel her juices pour onto his tongue as he pleasured her. she wanted to feel his cock stretching her out, she wanted to feel the mix of pleasure and pain.

so, there JJ was, exactly at 2:00 AM, in his favorite girl’s room.

there lips molded together in a heated makeout, his hands going down to grip her ass as they slowly moved towards the bed.

“wait, stop, wait,” JJ gasped out as he pulled away from the kiss when he felt her warm hand travel down his shorts. “we can’t do this, i’m sorry, but we can’t,”

“what? why?” she pulled her hands back as she looked at him with a face of confusion.

“because i still like you, y/n.”

her face fell as she sighed and stepped back, sitting on her bed. “yeah, i figured.” she sighed and looked down.

“look, y/n,” he situated himself in his shorts, trying his best not to focus on his raging hard-on, “i know that you have a boyfriend, but-“

“we broke up.” y/n cut him off when the words slipped from his mouth, making JJ’s heart stop.

“…what?” he breathed out, “really? wh-why?”

“i mean…sure, he was an okay boyfriend. but, he just…he just wasn’t you.”

JJ sucked in a breath at her words.

“i think i like you too, J.” she told him, just above a whisper.

“oh.” was all he could say, although in his mind he was celebrating her reciprocation.

“maybe…maybe we could go on a date or something?” she asked as she stood up again, walking towards him again.

“yeah, i…i’d like that,” he spoke quietly, cupping her face.

“i take back what i said,” he said, pecking her lips, “we can definitely do this.”

the couple spent the night making love, one round after another.

her moans were music to his ears, it felt like a reward for every good thing he’d ever done.

he’d do a thousand good things if it meant he’d get to fuck her everynight.

they stayed in each other’s arms all morning long, tracing shapes on one another’s bare skin.

“JJ?” y/n whispered into his neck as the sun shined on them through her window.

“yeah?”

“thank you for saving me.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hi! I don’t really know if this is considered an emergency request so feel free to ignore this since it’s way less urgent compared to other emergency requests.

Recently I have been having problems with asking myself whether or not I deserve an apology whenever I feel offended by my friends. I don’t really know how to word it so I’ll try my best here. I’m that ‘therapist friend’ in my group of friends of 4 (including me) and I always help solve the fights between our group which is mostly the same 2 friends fighting. I’ve never been in a fight with them more than 3 times and those times it barely lasts a day. Out of the 3 of my friends I’m really close to 1 of them (I’ll call her Kay) kay and I often play games together like Minecraft, cod, fall guys, etc. while playing these games she couldn’t talk so i was the only one talking while she was texting me back her responses, at one point she said something along the lines of ‘Jesus you sound like those annoying little kids that spit out a bunch of questions.’ Or something like that. I’ve been very insecure about my own voice and my child-like personality and the doubt in my head that I annoy my friends with my blabbering mouth(my friends don’t know this tho) I just responded with ‘oh’ and stayed quiet for the rest of the call which was silent. I excused myself and just went offline to think. I’m not sure if I was being over dramatic over something so small but that really hurt me and I tried to make it obvious it did hoping she’d approach me about it and tell me she didn’t mean it or basically anything but she never did. She just went about it like it didn’t even happen and I’m too scared to bring it up since it happened already a while ago and it’d be weird to. And this happens sometimes too, it doesn’t happen often nor does it rarely. I just need a second opinion on how to go about this. Could you give me some advice abt this along with sanji and law reacting to their s/o with this kind of problem?

I’m also the same Anon who sent the emergency request abt wanting to die instead of experiencing a loss of someone close, That really helped me overcome that feeling! I haven’t fully but I’m improving! Thank you so much and I hope you have an amazing day! (So sorry if this whole request is confusing and sorry for all the grammar mistakes)

I’m sorry if this isn’t considered an emergency request so feel free to ignore!

Hi sweet heart! I'm glad you're doing better about wanting to die. don't worry about being fully better. You're getting better, that's all that matters. It's okay to take your time. I'm sorry you're going through this. I sort of know how this feels, I was kind of this person in my group. Unfortunately, I eventually realized that, to those people, I wasn't a friend. Not really, anyway. I was just, admittedly, too afraid of being alone and abandoned to leave them. I suppose that's a pretty common fear. People don't really want to be alone.

Warnings: GN!Reader (I hope, let me know if I made any mistakes on that),

Word Count: 1800

     Chewing on your lip, you stared out the window. You deserved an apology for this, didn’t you? After all, it was rude, mean, and hurtful, so it wasn’t like it was an unreasonable request, right? The two of you in particular were pretty close too, so she’d know that she should apologize, right? Even still, you couldn’t help but wonder if you really deserved an apology. Surely you deserved it, you were always solving fights between them and rarely started any arguments yourself, so it wasn’t like you were constantly causing needless drama. It was one apology. If it were any of your other friends, you’d talk to both of them, try to smooth things over, and usually they’d work things out and apologize on their own after that. So being on the receiving end of that meant that you deserved the same courtesy… right? Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if you really did deserve one. What if you were being over dramatic? Or perhaps you were blowing all of this out of proportion. She and the others would be pretty upset if you asked for an apology you didn’t deserve and you really didn’t want to cause a fight. Maybe it would be fine if you waved it off? It’s not like it was a particularly common thing. Yeah, it happened from time to time, but it wasn’t like they were constantly putting you down.

     Getting up, you ran a hand through your hair. Maybe a shower or bath would calm you down and help you think. The warm water might help you relax and think clearly and a lot of people did their best thinking in the bathroom. If nothing else, it was worth a shot. Stepping in, you let the warm water soothe you, let it ease the tension in your muscles. Granted, it was hard to get yourself to relax into the water when you were this wound up, but eventually the warmth worked its way into your body, calming your mind. You were always the one solving all the problems, the one the others went to when they needed to talk, the one who helped everyone else, so what were you supposed to do when you were the one who needed help? Needed someone to talk to? Would the others hear you out? Just because you weren’t as close to the others didn’t mean you couldn’t talk to them about this. At least… hopefully. Despite how the water eased your body and calmed your mind, your thoughts still swirled like a whirlwind. You lost track of how much time you spent in the bathroom, how much time you spent trying to work out your thoughts before the water turned cold and you were forced to step out. Putting on some comfy clothes, you curled up on the couch, holding one of the couch pillows close.

Sanji

     Walking into the living room, Sanji’s smile fell. The look on your face was so despondent, so downcast. He hated seeing you like this.

     “Mon amour, what’s wrong?” the blond asked, kneeling on the floor next to the couch, reaching up to caress your cheek. Looking up at him, you debated on what to say. You really didn’t want to worry him, especially over something so… trivial. He had enough to worry about. Yet the look in his eyes begging you to tell him, to talk to him. The young man was always telling you that you could talk to him about anything, to come to him if you were ever feeling upset.

     “Do… Do I deserve an apology?” your heart ached as the words finally left your lips, a look of alarm crossing Sanji’s features.

     “Darling, what happened?” Sanji was immediately moving to the couch as he pulled you into his arms. Though he wanted to know what happened, he didn’t care if you were in the right or wrong, you were hurting. Taking a deep breath, you told him about what happened with your friend. Told him what she’d said, your insecurities, your feelings, everything. His hold on your tightened, holding you closer as he listened, one hand running up and down your back soothingly. Once you were finished, Sanji sat there for a moment, simply comforting you as he thought about what to say.

     “My dearest love, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You’re so amazing, so kind and caring. You don’t deserve to be hurt like that.” Sanji’s lips met your forehead, making you smile slightly as you snuggled further into him, “Which of your friends is this? Perhaps I can speak to her about apologizing. She should know she hurt you. I doubt she meant to hurt your feelings, but all the same, she did. If nothing else, perhaps you can work things out. Even if an apology isn’t given, perhaps you can get her to understand your feelings. But please, don’t bottle this up, don’t let it eat at your heart." His words made you smile as you nuzzled shyly into his chest. He always seemed to know what to say, what to do. He had a point, at very least, if you could work this out, then it wouldn’t happen again. If you could get her to understand your feelings, understand how hurt you were, if she made sure not to hurt you again, perhaps an apology wouldn’t matter. Her actions would apologize for her, she’d be better and your friendship would be stronger. A thought dawned on you as you glanced back up at him.

     “And if she refuses to apologize? If she thinks she didn’t do anything wrong?” you asked worriedly, biting your lip again.

     “Then they don’t deserve you and you need new friends, my love.” Sanji said softly, putting his thumb on your lip, forcing you to stop biting it, “Don’t be afraid to leave those who don’t deserve you in an attempt to find those who do. You won’t make real friends if you don’t try. Whether you become better friends with her or you find better friends elsewhere, it’s better to find those who appreciate you.” His words make your heart swell as you rested your head against him, feeling infinitely better. You’d talk to her tomorrow, if all went well, she’d apologize and if she refused, you’d find those worthy of your friendship.

Law

     It was a while before Law stumbled into the living room, clearly exhausted from a long day doing rounds at the hospital. The surprisingly young doctor’s brow furrowed as he looked at your dispirited form. Normally you’d greet him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Sometimes you’d have a snack or dinner ready for him, other times, you’d have started a hot shower for him. It didn’t take a genius for him to see that something was very clearly wrong. Taking a moment to think, Law finally pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you.

     “Tell me what’s wrong.” He said simply, already putting a hand on your head so you’d rest against his collarbone. Swallowing hard, you tried to gather your thoughts. You knew there was no hiding it from him. Of the few times you’d tried, he always knew you were lying and coaxed it out of you sooner or later. 

     After another moment, you began to tell him what had happened, occasionally stopping as you began to worry that you were babbling again. Each time, Law would tell you to continue, reassuring you that it was fine, even if you apologized for rambling. Of the many things he’d never admit, he actually liked your rambling, liked your babbling and childish nature. It was the yin to his yang. You were bright and sunny, offsetting his rather serious, aloof personality. And while you were bright and sunny, you weren’t annoying about it. You weren’t some bimbo with an empty head who flounced around talking about the most shallow, inconsequential, idiotic things. Not some superficial pretty face with no cares in the world. There was more to you than that. He found you beautiful, yes, and you were bright and you blabbered, sure; but you had more than two brain cells, you weren’t shallow, you cared very deeply. A little bright, cheery, slightly child-like actions were a welcome change in his life.

     You soon finished telling him what was wrong, followed by a million apologies for being over dramatic and annoying. After about 10 seconds of apologizing, his hand met the side of your head in a light ‘smack’, though said smack was more like a light tap of his fingers meant to shut you up and stop your endless apologies.

     “Stop apologizing, I asked what was wrong and kept telling you to continue. You don’t need to apologize. Your friend’s the one who should apologize. I really don’t care about what happened or why. She hurt your feelings, she made you question yourself, you need to talk to her. Even I apologize if I hurt Bepo, Shachi, or Penguin. She needs to know she hurt your feelings and work it out with you. You realize this’ll just keep happening if you don’t talk about it, right? She won’t realize she hurt you and she’ll just do it again. If you want this to get better, say something, ask for a damned apology. If she doesn’t give you one or says you're overreacting, leave. You need friends who will listen to you and try to understand you, not ones who’ll make you feel bad just for wanting to express how you’re feeling.” Law sighed and tilted his head back. Despite his advice, he really wasn’t good at this. The way he handled things and the way you handled things were completely different. 

     “What if it starts a fight? What if I lose them? I really don’t want to lose my friends.” you asked, giving him a worried look.

     “Then they aren’t friends, they’re people who are taking advantage of you. You really think I treat the others the same way? It’s basic respect to acknowledge a person’s feelings and try to right things. To improve your relationship by being better.” His words weren’t exactly soft or gentle, but as always, you could see right through him. You saw the care and love behind them. You nodded as you took a deep breath, letting him continue to hold you. 

     “Alright, I’ll try. Just… Please, take that day off. I want someone to comfort me if this starts an argument or they say they don’t want to be friends anymore.” you pleaded, making him nod.

     “Of course. Just… just know that if they want to end your friendship over something instead of just saying a few simple words, then they don’t deserve you. It’ll hurt, but you deserve better.” Law said softly, continuing to comfort you.

[agendabymooner]

odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later. 

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts.  Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much. 

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic. 

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken. 

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus. 

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right. 

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from. 

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level. 

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule. 

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing. 

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice. 

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman. 

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him. 

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?” 

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!! 

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him. 

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot  But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them. 

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver. 

So much for a good situationship. 

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?” 

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.” 

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open. 

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it. 

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy. 

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market. 

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo. 

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?” 

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.” 

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why. 

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly. 

Her eyes remained on the letter. 

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter. 

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?” 

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment. 

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with. 

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way. 

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates. 

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest. 

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth. 

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.” 

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!” 

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!” 

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.” 

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care. 

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other. 

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet. 

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.” 

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!” 

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.” 

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move. 

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA. 

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea. 

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her. 

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!” 

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to. 

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call. 

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!” 

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.” 

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other. 

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch. 

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow. 

The Frenchman sighed silently. 

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad. 

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool. 

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look. 

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers. 

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?” 

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.” 

Don't care how long it takes,  My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

[loveandmurders]

I love your Sinclair daughter AU sm. I loved the second one on the list as a teen she's just like me fr🤭. With that in mind can we get the Sinclair brothers finding out their daughter reads fanfiction about the slashers. Omg it would be so cute. They'd find her giggling and squealing because of some fluff. Her screaming because her request got filled, and them rushing to the room to see if she got hurt. And her having to explain why she's always smiling at her phone (God forbay they thought she was texting a bf/gf) Omg it would be so cute!

Hello darling, thank you so much for your kind words and this request! It was really fun to write for, so I hope you'll enjoy reading it <3

I LOVE SLASHERS, AND SO WHAT?

Warnings: no proof reading, reader wants to kill people, mentions of violence and murders, a few strong words, confused parents.

As a teen, thanks to Bo, you discovered the universe of the slashers and of horror movies. And because it looked a lot like your own life, you instantly loved it.

You preferred when slashers won at the end though, and it was rare, which was annoying you quite a lot.

Your dads always found it quite endearing to see you supporting the worst of slashers on screen. It really made the twins happy to realise that you weren’t afraid (of them) and that you actually enjoyed this.

Bo and Vincent were indeed worried that one day you would realise how awful the situation was and that you would run away from them and never come back.

Vincent was also really concerned you wouldn’t want to keep the family business going.

They never told you anything about it. 

Truth to be told, you just wanted to kill people.

For now, you could only fulfil your bloodlust through horror movies.

And then you discovered that on Tumblr, there was a great community of slasher fuckers.

Even better, some people were drawing, writing and creating stories for your favourite characters!

You discovered this as you were on the couch by Bo’s side and you quickly exclaimed out in excitement. When Bo sent you a quizzical glance, you shook your head to your father “Ya can’t understand” you said before going upstairs, back into your room where you could enjoy this on your own.

Bo wasn’t too sure what was going on and he had to resist the urge to chase after you to know what just happened.

Your obsession only grew now you had found people able to fuel it.

You were so happy.

At first, you were mostly reading fluff.

You were happily humming, and giggling and kicking your feet when your favourite slasher was telling you how much they loved you.

More than once, Lester found you sitting somewhere outside squealing in excitement. 

And each time he smiled at you, before asking you why you were so happy.

You didn’t want to answer at first because it was your secret, but also because you thought your parents would find this very stupid.

At some point, you answered Lester, because you trusted him to not judge you. And you asked him to not tell anything to the twins because you really thought they wouldn’t understand. 

Lester was a little bit surprised that you were obsessed over bad people, but it made sense in a way and he tenderly kissed the top of your head.

“One day, ya’ll be your own slasher” he murmured to you and you looked up at him with stars in your eyes. 

You really hoped he was saying the truth, because you would love that very much. And you would be the head of the Sinclair family, with someone by your side. And you would kill people and keep running Ambrose. 

It sounded so perfect to you.

After fluff, you discovered angst/comfort fics, and you realised you also really enjoyed that. You loved the drama, you loved when the reader had to kill someone to protect the people they loved, you loved to have tears in your eyes.

But Bo found you the face glued to your screen, quite concerned about what was going on.

Lester had refused answering him, and now he was certain you had met someone and you were chatting with them. Gosh, he was already thinking of finding that fucker and to kill them for flirting with his precious baby daughter.

When he started to ask you questions, you gently pushed him out of your room.

But he couldn’t let the subject go. Especially when you started to scream while looking at your computer, and then happily dance.

You were certain your parents couldn’t understand the joy to have a request being fulfilled by your favourite artists.

Lester tried to appease Bo by telling him it was very innocent of you.

Vincent was watching you without commenting.

He noticed that something new happened in your life and he really didn’t know what it was. He was curious like Bo, but he didn’t want to scare you off by asking you non stop what it was.

You sometimes stumbled onto spicy fics and you mastered the art of reading them with a poker face in the same room as your family. They really didn’t notice anything, thankfully for everyone.

You grew so obsessed that Bo started to threaten you with screen time and the twins really had to fight with you for you to come to the dinner table without your phone or computer or tablet.

“Alright, what’s the big secret? With whom are ya textin’ all the damn time?” Bo was fed up

“No one” you shrugged, which was the truth, which Vincent could see. And it was making him wonder even more about it.

“Y/N” Bo groaned and you rolled your eyes

“Ok, ok. I’m readin’ fanfics. Happy?” you grumbled

You had to explain to the three men what “fanfics” were. The twins still didn’t get it, so you had to add that it was about slashers and horror movies.

Bo was relieved you weren’t talking with anyone.

But he was also a little bit confused on why you would enjoy reading about those characters. Or characters in general. But it seemed innocent enough for him to drop the subject.

Lester still found it very endearing and he thought that it was an harmless obsession for the moment.

Vincent was the only one to fully understand what all of this meant. He got that you loved violence and blood, as much as he did. He understood that he and his brothers couldn’t prevent you from killing for so much longer. He understood that you loved the way of life they gave you and that one day, you would continue the family business.

It really reassured him.

Bo started to tease you about reading such things. You knew he would and that was also why you didn’t want to tell him about it at first.

But one day he realised that it could be talking about sexuality. And it worried him. 

He sat you down one evening to remind you of all the “rules” you had to always have in mind before having sex with anyone.

The 3 rules were: “I don’t have sex if I don’t want to / I don’t have sex with someone who isn’t nice to me / I don’t have sex with someone my father wouldn’t approve of”

“Ya won’t approve of anyone” you said

“That’s the point, love.”

Lester was eager to talk about anything with you, and he liked to share fun facts with you about your favourite characters. He knew a lot more about you than Bo in a way, because you always felt like you could speak about anything to him.

He was also the one able to find you merch about your favourite movies. He always had the best birthday gifts, which was driving both the twins completely insane.

Lester never tried to stop you from doing anything. He was just following your mood.

Vincent thought it could be a good opportunity to have you creating, even digital art or through writing.

As an artist, it was really important for his daughter to be one too. It was your legacy in a way. And so far, you have been “lazy” about it.

He asked you if you didn’t want to also be part of the people producing for the fandom (You taught him all the right words and he learnt very fast because he saw an opportunity with this new obsession of yours).

Of course you did, and that was how you also started to post.

You were drawing quite a lot now, which Vincent enjoyed.

Even better, you often went to ask him how to improve your creations. You started to spend a lot more time in the basement, by Vincent'side.

And one day, the masked twin hoped you would fully take his seat.